#its not.. but.. what if a group jerking session made it happen.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

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sun in the shadows (03)

word count; 12,706

summary; trying to make some headway on the study leads to an interesting revelation, and progress in your friendship with noah.

notes; if this part is a little sucky, I apologise. it was a last minute addition that I created because I realised I wanted to include some extras.

warnings; brief mentions of panic attacks/anxiety, but it’s very mild.

The weather was improving, the drizzle of the winter and the grey skies overhead were getting lighter, the showers of rain were getting less frequent and the winter was moving on. Spring was making itself known, bulbs of daffodils were finally taking root in the soil, and green was sprouting from the earth that had been frozen over and dead only a couple of weeks ago. The watery floors were drying up, limited ice was fading away, and graduation was sitting right on the horizon for you all.

Your fingers flexed around the strap of your bag, rooting through the contents to find a place to slip your file inside, all your notes for the class you’d be having were inside, and there was a blank page for your next session waiting to be filled out. Once it had its place, albeit getting a little bit crumbled against the other content, you removed your wallet, a few coins jingling in the bottom, and you hoped it was enough for two coffees.

There was a coffee stand not too far away, and you were hoping an extra shot of coffee before you went in might get your brain working a little faster. Only a couple of feet ahead of you was a face you recognised, a dark jumper to match dark denim jeans, a pair of boots for motorbike riding that were beginning to scuff along the edges and the toes. He was hanging over his money, a brown bag holding a pretzel and a tall cup, the tell-tale tag of a teabag hanging over the edge, and he walked away.

Joining the back of the line, you watched him go, sitting not far across the quarter with his headphones on, settling on one of the recently repainted memorial benches. He pulled the tab on eh coffee back, opening it up and a cloud of steam left the drink, curling up into the air that still held a slight chill, drifting away to disappear as he blew against the surface of the drink. In his other hand was his phone, scrolling aimlessly on it as a way to keep himself disconnected from everyone else around him and prompt nobody else to join him. His bag was out on the bench too, pushed a short distance from his body in an attempt to take up the rest of the space to deter company.

Ordering a simple set of black coffees, and finding you had just enough change for a muffin too, you waited patiently for your order, an assortment of condiments and the double-chocolate treat you’d paid for being handed to you first. There was a grinding, the slight screech of the machine as it crushed the beans to create two black coffees for you, plastic lids sealed on and two cardboard jackets fastened around them.

Balancing the load between them all, you headed over to him, using your knee to nudge the bag up the bench until it bumped his leg, and he jerked slightly, looking up to see you. Offering him a beam, his narrowed eyes lightened a little, and he sighed. Putting down his phone and moving his bag to the floor, he lifted the headphones away from his ears, and let them hang around his neck. Sitting yourself down, he slumped back into the wood, and you scooted up to sit closer to him, placing the spare coffee you’d bought for Stiles on the floor away from your feet.

“Hey, Noah!” He gave a short nod, still a little uncomfortable, and he turned to face you more. “So, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”

“How did you know I was here?”

You shrugged, opening up the bag of extras and searching through for a couple of sweetener packets, and a wooden stirrer. “I didn’t. I was just gonna’ grab a coffee before class and head to my hall early, because, y’know, studying at home is distracting.” Your hand waved off the statement, finding the packets you wanted, and clutching your cup between your knees for stability. “So, anyway I was going to text you when I got there, but then I saw you, so I figured I’d come and say ‘hey’!”

“Right.”

“So, hey!” You waved a little before taking the top from your coffee, and leaving it on the bench beside yourself. “I ask once again, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”

“Well, since I am the most popular guy at this college, I’m pretty busy.” He smiled a little at his own joke, particularly when you gave him a laugh, and your brow raised.

“Oh, he’s got jokes today, huh? I like it, I can roll with that.” Tipping the sugar into the cup, you added a couple of packets, before stirring it slowly. “I take it you’re free, then. I was hoping we could squeeze in some study stuff this afternoon. I have a class in a couple of minutes, but I wanted to see if you were free?”

“Well, I’m free all day. I had a six AM class.” His face screwed up at the idea, and you could feel his pain, having spent the entirety of your sophomore year with a teacher who held lectures at six AM so she could avoid her morning sickness before class, and rush home for it afterwards. Professor Anderson going off on her maternity leave was the best thing that had happened to your education that year.

“Great, I’ll sort it with Stiles, and we’ll text you the details.”

“Sounds like a thrill. I can hardly wait.” He smiles, the sarcasm just like his brothers as it came through, and you repaid him for the joke with a chuckle. While the two of you had made progress, you could tell he was still a little unsure around you. You were polar opposites and he didn’t take well to that, the atmosphere that you brought with you could be a little too much for him to handle sometimes, you couldn’t stop the guilt that was eating at you a little. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a look on your face like you want to talk about things. Just warning you, I’m not good at that heart-to-heart stuff.”

“Yeah, I’ve witnessed that.”

“Shut it.” He teased, sticking his tongue out at you childishly, and you grinned cheesily in reply to him. “You can tell me, though. Can’t promise I’ll help, but..”

“It’s nothing weighing me down. I just wanted to apologise. I clearly interrupted your free time. You got yourself a little pretzel to eat in silence, and everything.” He offers you a blank look at your slight dig, and you only winked, waving the muffin in a bag that you’d bought, and taking a sip of your coffee once the lid was sealed back on. “People usually like it when I stop by to see them, I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, really.” His words were strained, the response bringing you no relief as he forced them out, and your frown remained. “I’m serious, okay? It’s alright.”

You were trying your best but learning the lines with Noah was different to you. Upon starting college you’d been thrown in at the deep end of socialisation and a whole world you’d never quite had access to before. Coming from a smaller town that had always limited your expectations was tough, and you’d taken it differently from the way Noah had. You’d had so many experiences, becoming legal to drink and venturing beyond your comfort zone, truly leaving home and facing the idea of having your life laid out before you, the first time truly having your heartbroken, and being too far to simply collapse into the arms of your mom or dad for support when things got messed up.

“When does your class start?” You jumped, lost in your thoughts as you slumped back into the bench, and you sat up straight again, turning to find that Noah was already looking at you, eyes scanning over you slowly. It was a good reminder, time had been slipping away from you and in the ease of his peaceful and quiet company, you could have sat there for hours.

Checking your watch, you sighed, lifting your bag strap back up onto your shoulder more securely, and packing everything you had with you inside, leaving you to hold a coffee cup in each hand. “In about ten minutes.”

“How about I walk you?” He picked up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder, and you nodded, a warmer feeling at his offer blooming where cold guilt had been. Standing up and making sure not to spill any of the scalding coffee onto your hand. Peering around the busy campus quarters that was more filled now than it had been for months, the lighter weather tempting groups to come out of their dormitories and the cafés to gather outside instead.

He fell into step beside you, toes scuffing occasionally on the slightly uneven stonework of the quad, before it fell away into smooth concrete pathways on the way to your lecture. The grass alongside each path was growing greener, dull colour fading away into something brighter. Paper crinkled beside you, the cup of tea in his hands being finished and the cardboard cup was crushed between string fingers, knuckles even paler than usual as he crumpled it up, and as you approach the closest bin, it was disposed of.

Your fingers flexed around your coffee cup, almost having forgotten that it was there as the heat from the two began to fade away a little. Taking a sip, the refreshing burst of sweetened caffeine was like a spark to your system, and you revelled in it. “How do you take your coffee?”

You lower the cup from your lips, swallowing your mouthful, and you couldn't stop the rise of your brows once you turned to look at him. “Creamer, usually. I like a caramel flavoured one. But, since I’m not big on creamer in packets or from street vendors, this one just has sweeteners.”

“Cool.” He nodded, and your lips pressed together tightly to try and contain the smile you wanted to let free, silence forming between you both for a moment, a further gathering of steps as the two of you went on, your building coming into sight again. “Did you watch the news last night?”

“Is this small talk?”

“It’s an attempt at small talk.” He winced, and you chuckled, a small smile on his features as the fear of judgement or humiliation washed away, and he gave a sigh.

“Okay, let's try this.” Your mind spun, searching for a track of something to talk about, and a thought clicked into space. “If you could watch one genre of movies for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Comedy. Like, comedy-action. You know, ones like ‘Jumanji’ or something?” He was quick with it, certain about his answer, and you nodded.

“Yeah? That was quick. How come you’re so sure?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, one hand coming up to hold his bag strap, swinging it to the side to be able to get inside, and fish out the paper bag with a pretzel inside. “I guess I just think they’re good for you. Good for the soul. They have action and it keeps you a little on the edge of your seat, but it’s funny. It's easy-going, when you’ve got anxiety, or you’re having a bad day, or you just want background noise, they’re perfect.”

“Alright. Fair enough. Okay, tricky one.” his eyes narrowed a little, but an amused look passed over his features while he waited. “If you had to choose specifically between comedy and action, which is it?”

“It’s got to be action. Because comedy usually means Adam Sandler or Seth Rogen, and some of their comedies are good, but some are jus-” He paused, jaw dropping a little, and his hand came out, pausing in front of your to bring you to a halt too. A smile curled on your lips, and he looked shocked. “Holy shit, you’re good!”

“Ask a basic question that people are passionate about, it always leads to more options, and everyone always wants to talk about something fun.” His head shook slowly, as though he was in disbelief, and you took a dramatic bow, trying not to spill the coffees in your hands as you giggled. “Give it a go, I bet you can do it.”

The paper in his hands crinkled, your footsteps taking up again, and the two of you were making your way towards the building once again. Taking a bite from his pretzel, a piece torn away with his teeth, he thought it over. “Does your family have any secret or ‘famous’ recipes?”

“Oh, that’s a good one. Kudos to you, Noah.”

“Thank you. I thought about it for, like, eight whole seconds.” He grinned, the joke moving away from you both as you left it behind, and you thought about his question.

“Maybe it’s not my family recipe, just a personal one, but I’m great at making lasagne.” He scoffed, and you nudged him with your elbow. “I’m serious! I make a great lasagne!”

“You don’t seem like a cook to me, is all! You seem like the sort of person who’d manage to burn a pit of water.”

“You can’t burn water, an.. oh, I just got it. You jerk.” It was a joke, your nose screwing up as you stuck your tongue out at him, thanking him a second later as he held the door open for him. The bright lights of the outside changed to artificial lights in the halls, not as much coming through the windows as trees outside managed to cast shade into the building. “Well, I can cook. I love to cook, and I’m good at it. Especially lasagne. My family are generally the only ones who have ever had it, and thanks to that insult, you’ll never have it.”

“Oh, woah, no! You have to let me try it now. Prove me wrong, or I’ll be forced to believe you’re bluffing.”

“You’re sneaky.” You scoffed, students filling the hall and filtering in from different sides of the building, lectures in different halls all waiting to take place, and you stepped to the side of the corridor once your doorway was within reach. “If you’re lucky.”

“I’m betting on that.”

Glancing back, Stiles was already inside, as expected. Stiles Stilinski had never once been on time, he was either twenty minutes early or twenty minutes late, and since he’d spent the night with Derek, who was an early bird, you’d figured which one today would be. His head was slumped on his hm half-asleep and on the verge of drooling as he sat there, and you chuckled, turning to Noah. “Thanks for walking me. Also, thanks for small-talking with me.”

“Thanks for the advice on small talk.”

“I’m gonna’ head inside, but, I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded, confirming the times with you, and lingering a moment longer. It was quiet, but not so tense, and he rolled on the balls of his fete, the half-eaten pretzel in his hands was seemingly abandoned as one hand tucked into his jeans pockets, the other hanging limply while holding the delicacy by his side.

“Thanks for sitting with me. This wasn’t so bad. It was almost fun.”

“You know, one day, you’re gonna’ tell me you had fun with me. I look forward to that day.” He smirked, your head tipping to the side at the expression.

“If you’re lucky.” He was repeating your own words back to you, and you beamed at the chance. Backing away from him slightly, you fixed him with the cheekiest glance you could as you walked through the doorway.

“I’m betting on it.”

You could hear his laugh once you were gone, into the classroom and beginning to take the steps up to a seat beside Stiles that he’d reserved for you, his bag sitting on it. He’d already gotten his equipment out, notepads and pencil laid out in a somewhat organised mess on top of the desk.

Placing the two coffees down, you moved Stiles bag to the floor, tucking it behind his chair and a soft snore made itself known from him, the boy not doing well with early mornings but he never had, not once in your years of knowing him had he handled it very well, so it was no surprise.

“Opening up your bag, you dropped your notebook down onto the surface with a loud ‘slapping’ sound, and he jerked upwards, flailing as he did, and almost knocking the coffees over. Blinking quickly and shaking sleep away, he looked around, eyes wide as he finally focused on you.

“Jesus Christ, don’t do that.” He chastised you, leaning back in his seat and holding a hand over his heart. “I was dreaming about high school, I thought you were my lacrosse Coach waking me up for falling asleep in class again.”

“Maybe I am.” You winked, slamming a hand down on the counter. “Drop and give me twenty, Stilinski! Right now!”

“Don’t do that, it’s eerily accurate.” He cringed, shuddering a little, before a wide smile replaced the horrified expression that had morphed, and you pushed a coffee over to him. “You brought me a coffee?”

“Yes, I did. It’s bribery.”

“Oh? What am I being bribed for?” He was curious, rooting through the bag of condiments for it and taking the plastic lid from the cup, steam curling out into the air. Taking an ungodly and certainly unhealthy amount of sweetener and sugar packets to load into his coffee.

“Your free time this afternoon. I’m thinking about getting some of my study done, I can get all the work for the next couple of sessions sorted now, but how do you feel about being asked some later?” He tipped them in, a drop of coffee flying up over the edge and landing on the desk as he stirred his drink with vigour, that same hyper excitement that he always had.

“Can’t I just fill them out now?”

“It’d be better if I could get your responses with Noah.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and making a scene of it, but there was a smile that told you he already agreed.

“You should have brought me two coffees, but fine.”

You let out a victorious ‘aha!’, and shook the little brown paper bag that was still sitting on your half of the desk at him. “I also brought you half of a muffin!”

“Only half of a muffin?”

“Well, it was none, but since I didn’t eat it yet and I’d feel bad eating it in front of you, I decided to share it.” You tore it in half, pushing half across the scratched and vandalised wooden surface to him. Crumbs were left along the surface, and Stiles pressed the pad of his finger along them to gather them all up.

“Oh, right. Well, in that case, what I meant was; wow, a full half of a muffin!” He cheered, much more enthusiasm, and you nodded.

“Much better.” At the front of the classroom, your tutor entered, door slamming behind him as he kicked the wedge out from underneath, and his case was placed down on the desk. The room began a hushed quiet, save for the loud slurping of Stiles with his coffee beside you.

“You know,” Your best friend didn’t understand the concept of a whisper, everything he did was more like a dramatic stage whisper on a Broadway show, and a few dirty looks were sent his way. The professor was used to this, a year of experience and advice from previous tutors guiding him to ignore Stiles’ fidgeting and chatter. “You’re going to have to convince Noah to do this.”

Slumping down in your seat a little more, you turned your head to him, nibbling on your half of the muffin. “I already did.”

“What?” This time he was hushed, the man standing at the front near his desk, trying his best to give extra advice to everyone and answer any common questions that he’d been emailed. You’d have to catch the after-class notes in your emails. “When d’you do that?”

“This morning before class. I saw him while getting coffee for you and we walked over.”

Stiles huffed, his brows being pulled together slightly. “Okay. Damn, he was my last free shot at getting the afternoon off.” You grinned, pinching at your friend’s cheek, and he smacked your hand away. “Quit it, I’ve told you not to do that before.”

“In case I pinch your moles off?”

“That's where my power is. My funny is in my moles.” He hissed, only making you laugh more, and you covered your mouth with your hand over his silly superstitions.

“Whatever, freak.”

“Hoe.” He snarked back, and you grinned, punching at his shoulder as best you could from this angle, and he reached up a hand to rub at it. “So, if we’re doing this, I at least want to do it at my place. I’m going out this evening, I gotta’ be ready. Derek’s sisters are coming up to visit.”

“It won’t take long, don’t worry.” He hummed, pulling out his phone and keeping it ducked from view. He was texting his brother, letting him know to be ready, and at what time your class would be ending, giving him a little time to prepare. Opening your book up and flicking to the page you had marked, it was a journal written about the study of the ways that twins raised in different households could grow up similarly, and you were hoping to adopt some of the content for your study.

“So, what’ve you got done so far?”

Stile sighed, flicking open his notebook, and you were shocked by the fact that he was already at the end of it. There were pieces of paper stuck in, a list of book references on one of the tabs down the side of a page, and only a few blank pages left at the back.

“Oh, wow, okay.” You stared at your notebook, barely reaching a quarter of the way through with the notes you’d been making, and it looked like Stiles was ready to start making progress towards a conclusion for his hypothesis. “So, you’ve got a whole lot done, then.”

“Yeah, well, I want to spend as little time in a prison as I possibly can.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, the pages crammed full of information as he flicked through to find a blank one. “Plus, I didn’t want to go and interview inmates on my own, so I wait until Derek has free time to go with me, and I get as much done in those sessions as I can.”

“You’re gonna’ be done weeks before I am.” You pouted, your pen twirling at the top corner of a page, drawing a collation of pretty flowers to form a border, and he chuckled.

“I have easier test subjects than you do. They’re already guilty and behind bars, they’re more than happy to open up. You’ve gotta’ deal with Noah.”

“That’s true.” You grinned, thinking back on the conversation you’d had with the other twin that morning. When he was alone, it wasn’t so bad, he talked more and he wasn’t so worried about judgements, but as soon as there was someone else who might hear, he completely closed down.

“Hey, seriously, we have ages left. You’re gonna’ be just fine.”

“I’m just freaking out a little bit, because this is the last hurdle, y’know?” He nodded, and you could see whatever it was he was thinking practically swirling in his eyes, because Stiles’ emotions were open to read like a book.

“It’s terrifying. It’s, like, what the hell are we supposed to do when we finish?”

“I don’t know.” Your head dropped to your hands, fingers soothingly rubbing at your temples. A large hand landed on your back, rubbing in comforting circles. “What I do know, though, is that if I don’t get on with coming up with some more content, I’m never gonna’ finish this study in time.”

“Well, put your headphones on and come up with some questions.”

You did as told, plugging your earbuds in and choosing some classical music that would make it easier to concentrate. Opening one of your survey works back up to the page you’d left off at, your eyes began to flicker over the pages, picking out the useful information. Once you had a list built, you had a foundation to work from, questions to create and organise into groups, different sessions being able to come together.

Beside you, Stiles’ hand never seemed to stop rising, a constant dialogue with your tutor as he checked his work and ironed out any kinks in his study. He was also full of chatter and laughter, getting along with everyone around him and asking about their works, making you turn your music up several times just to be able to concentrate. But, by the end of the session, when Stiles was tugging your earbud out and telling you your class was over, you had a solid three pages worth of questions that had been split up into sessions, and ready to be worked through.

“Pack up and get ready to go. I have plans to get ready for.”

Stiles already had his bag in his arms, notebook tucked inside and pens and pencils put away, two empty coffee cups and a muffin wrapper sitting out, which he quickly gathered up, once his bag was on his shoulder. He was gone, walking past you and down to the waste bin at the front of the hall to dispose of them, his fingers tapping idly on his thigh once he was done.

You gathered your belongings, packing them away and curling the wire of your headphones back up neatly, making sure everything had its correct place in your bag, before following him down and out of the steps.

The halls were filled once again, the two of you navigating through crowds to the outside of the building, and you followed him in his diversion across the pathway, all the way to his car. Some students had already left, spaces beginning to empty out as a bottleneck effect took place at the only entrance and exit to this carpark.

“Where’s your car?” The dirty blue jeep was one of the only ones left in the parking lot, Stiles looking around for your vehicle, and you sighed.

“Don’t get me started on that hunk of junk.” You growled, stomping a foot on the floor as Stiles laughed. Opening the driver’s side door, he hopped up inside of it, legs dangling from the chair. “I’m trying not to use it as much. It splutters when it starts up and I have to try it a whole bunch of times, so the less I use it, the closer to graduation we can get before it eventually taps out.”

“You ever think about just getting it fixed?”

“Oh, big words from the man whose engine is held together with duct tape.” Your hand rubbed over the hood of the car, a slightly dusty layer that made you cringe, and you wiped your hand off on your jacket to stop it.

“Touché.” Stiles only smirked. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride to my place. I’ll be waiting for hours if you walk.”

He slammed his car door once his legs were inside, leaning over the centre console to pop open the passenger side door as you rounded the car, and he was sparking up the car before you were even fully inside. Slamming it shut, he was reversing from his spot as you clipped in your safety belt, swinging his car around, and you gripped onto the edge of the door. “Easy there, fast and furious.”

“Oh, relax. Nobody is around.”

“Except for me, and I’d like to live until graduation.” His eyes rolled, hitting the brakes and flicking on the indicators as he was leaving the parking lot, moving out onto the main roads. There weren’t so many other cars, the mid-afternoon meaning the other students were mostly in class, in bed, or eating their lunch. College was a weird time, and while you’d loved it, you couldn't wait to regain some kind of normality. “Can we swing by my place? I need to swap out my books. I don’t want to carry all these around.”

“Okay, but be quick! I have to be ready by six and out the door by six-thirty. Derek will kill me if I’m late for this.” His fingers were tapping on the steering wheel as he changed direction to head to your place instead of his own. The space between you both was filled with the radio, the simple tunes of classic 70s anthems, the songs Stiles had grown up with, his dad’s favourite records and he played them constantly. He knew all the words, mouthing along and banging his head, pausing occasionally to check the mirrors and the roads between dancing in his seat.

Rolling the window down as he slowed in his approach to the building, afresh air swept into the carbon of the car, the slightly musty smell of the older car was something you’d miss when it was gone. The shade of the concrete cover overhead was chillier than the sunny roads, and he swung himself haphazardly into a parking space.

“I’ll turn the car around and wait here, cool?”

“I won’t take long, promise!” Hopping from the car and closing the door, you leant on the open door frame, and Stiles slouched in his seat, as he usually did. “Lydia and Ally should both be out, so there’s nobody for me to even talk to.”

“Good, because you’re chatty.” He teased, and you flipped him off, a quick walk as you headed away from him to the stairs. Once you were there, you were taking a quick jog up the sets of stairs, headed for your floor, and balancing your books in your arms carefully. Rooting through your bag to find your keys, they were at the bottom, jingling tantalisingly for you to find.

Leaving your books on the countertop of the kitchen, you shifted through them, taking the notebook you needed and leaving the rest, piling them back up and taking them to your bedroom Abandoned on the desk, you rushed to change, throwing on a bigger and warmer jumper to get through the rest of the day, phone in your pocket and a bag on your arm. Passing back through the kitchen, you were ready to grab the notebook and bag you’d left there, keys hanging in the back of the door, and you eyed the freezer.

You’d made a bet, a point to prove, and you were certain that buried somewhere deep in the bottom, you had a frozen lasagne from the last time you’d made it for Allison and Lydia. You had a few spare moments, and so you moved over to the freezer, opening the door and crouching to scan over all the shelves.

Running your fingers over frozen plastic, you searched for the right one. Tinfoil crinkling in the back, behind a bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets and a tray of alcoholic ice cubes, was a tray of lasagne. Pulling it out, the cold chilled your arm, even through the layers of your hoodie, and you used your foot to close the freezer while wrapping the tray in the nearest tea towel for an extra layer.

Placing your notebook over it and holding it in both arms for security, you clicked the latch onto the door, keys in your pocket and bag on your shoulder to let it swing closed behind you.

Stiles saw you coming, his head snapping over to the metal door between the stairwell and the parking lot when it fell open, backing through it and his brows raised. Opening up the passenger side door, he took the lasagne from you when you handed it over, climbing back into the vehicle.

“This is cold. What is it?”

“Lasagne.” You settled it onto your lap once your safety belt was on, folding the towel underneath to keep your lap from getting chilled and painful, and he nodded. The engine was still running, and taking off the brakes, he was pulling out of the space again.

“So, not that I don’t love a home-cooked meal, but I’m going out for dinner. Why the traybake?”

“I have a point to prove to Noah.” You were looking out of the window, but you could feel his gaze on you, making you a little uncomfortable, and you turned to face him. His eyes were flicking between you and the road, brows furrowed, a stare like he was trying to figure you out, before he let it go. “He told me I looked like I couldn't cook, and it’s a battle I’m going to win.”

“Well, alright then. Save me leftovers?”

“We’ll see.” You winked, and he grinned, eyes flicking to the tray in your lap, before back to the road.

It was only a short journey, the distance between your place and Stiles’ building was short for a walk and even shorter in a car, on the edges of campus and conveniently placed, and it had been one of the building blocks of your friendship with him An easily accessible study partner, somewhere to hang out with, someone to walk home with you after a night out, someone to share a cab with, or simply knowing there was a friend so close to you.

“It’s going to be weird not living around the corner from you in just a few months.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He sighed, pulling into his one building sparking area and it didn’t have the luxury of being covered or underground, it was exposed each flat having allocated parking spaces, and Noah’s bike was parked underneath the shelter, you could see it from here, with a clamp around the wheel and covered from the impending and risky weather of the early months. “I have a feeling that you’ll end up living next door to me someday.”

“You do?”

He parked the car, arm behind your head as he reversed into it, ready to make a quick getaway on the next morning, or this evening, when he would invariably be late. In true Stiles Stilinski style. “Yeah. Especially after I rock whatever gown you want me to wear for being your maid of honour, someday.”

“Lydia is going to fight you for that role.”

“I will fistfight her for it.” He challenged, and you grinned, clambering down from the car as Stiles had parked a little too close to someone else on your side. With your bag on your shoulder and lasagne in one hand, you tried to squeeze around the door without scratching someone else’s paintwork.

Stiles’ arm was slung over your shoulder as you set off toward the building, the elevator being fully functional, and it was a refreshing change not need to take the stairs up to your place, or risk your life in a rickety elevator.

Throwing his keys down on the kitchen counter, they slid all the way across and to the other side, hitting the floor, and he grimaced when you turned to stare at him. “I’ll pick those up later.”

“Uh-huh.” The sounds of video games and music were coming from behind Noah’s door, though it wasn’t fully closed, only pushed halfway, and you hoped that was a sign that he was still in a good mood. Leaving your bag on the edge of the couch that was facing away from you, your hands rubbed together, glancing around at the environment you were still getting used to. “You should put this lasagne in now, so that it’s ready for after the study. Medium heat, leave the full-on tight.”

“Where are you going?”

“To say ‘hey’ to your brother.” Stiles’ face scrunched up, a mumble of ‘good luck’ as he picked up the tray, lifting it over his head to look in at it from underneath. Wandering toward the sounds coming from the hall, you knocked on the edge of the door, pushing it open a second later when you heard the game pause, and the music following it. Leaning on the doorframe, Noah turned to face you, brows raising slightly, and he shifted in his chair. “Hey.”

“Hi. It’s, uh, time for the study stuff, then?”

“Yeah. You okay?” He shrugged, turning back to his game and closing it off, leaning forwards from where he was sat on his bed enough to turn the console off.

“I didn’t realise we’d be doing it here. It feels more personal, somehow.” He had a large hoodie on, comfortable in his own clothes as he wore a baggy and warm outfit, the same way you often had when everything started to feel overwhelming.

“Well, this study is going to get pretty personal.”

“I know that. It’s just that right now, it feels a bit like I’m naked, y’know?” You chuckled, a momentary smile on his face flashing past, and you were glad to see it. “I just feel exposed.”

“This study is gonna’ do that, but I promise that I’ll try and make it as easy as I can. I’ll break it up, I’ll make it comfortable for you, and we’ll stop whenever you’re getting overwhelmed.”

“That’d be great, actually.” His hands rubbed together, sleeves hanging slightly down over his palms, and he looked a whole lot less terrifying right now than he did with the armour of a bike and a leather jacket. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Good, because I need you in high spirits. I brought a lasagne and I have a point to prove.”

You backed out of the room as he advanced toward you, the door closing and leaving you both standing in the hall, and he smirked down at you a little, a disbelieving expression. “You really brought that?”

“You bet I did. It’ll be ready by the time we finish.”

“Then I guess we’d better get started, huh?” He hopped over the back of the couch, settling in beside his brother, who scowled at him as his drink spilt down his shirt from the impact. Taking a seat on the other side of them both, your legs folded underneath yourself in the armchair, finding a glass of water laid out for yourself on the table, courtesy of Stiles.

They looked so different and yet so similar in this moment. You could understand how people may have confused the two of them before their styles became so radically different. In the beginning, before Noah turned to leather and a sleeve tattoo, when they both wore hoodies and band tees and had clean pale skin. With the sleeve of tattoos covered, and the pair both wearing hoodies, one with an etching across the front and the other with a faded logo from being washed one too many times,

Laying out your books, it was more of a note you’d keep to yourself, and following from that was your recorder, coated in the front pocket of your bag so as not to get crushed. Switching it on at the side, the red light flashed on to green blinking once to let you know it was active. “Can you guys do your confirmations for me while I get set up?”

“Surely can.” Stiles sat forwards, leaning down a little with his forearms braced across his knees, as opposed to Noah, who slumped back into the cushion. “Stiles Stilinski, happy to be recorded.”

“Noah Stilinski, aware of being recorded.” Stiles rolled his eyes at his brother’s dead tone, clearly not having as much fun as Stiles was, but you didn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, why don’t you guys tell me what it’s like to live together at college.” There was a beat of silence, and then a set of matching laughs from both of them, the two starting at one another. There was a look between them, one you didn’t quite understand, and it seemed like some kind of twin-telepathy communication.

“It’s, like, exactly the same as when we were in high school.”

“Uh, what?” Stiles interjected, and Noah turned to look at him. “It’s nothing like high school!”

“Yes, it is!” Noah insisted, and you smirked, picking up your water and taking a sip as the two stared in shock at one another. “We lived together in high school, we played video games, I did all the cooking and you did all the cleaning while dad was at work. The only thing that is different is that we can’t cheat from one another’s homework anymore.”

“We don’t drive to school together anymore, we’re on opposite sides of campus!”

“That so doesn’t count.” Noah scoffed, and Stiles twisted on the couch, his hand gestures much more emphasised than that of his brother’s and you watched the debate go down. “You can’t name any more than that.”

“I take that as a challenge.” Stiles’ head rolled side to side. “Our schedules don’t match up anymore, and we haven’t had our usual movie nights in almost six months now. I can’t bring Derek over because your room is right across from mine-”

“My room was across the hall from you at home. You just didn’t date in high school or have anyone to bring home.”

“Low-blow. Unlike some people, I didn’t want to traumatise my brother in high school by bringing someone home, for that.” Stiles reached out mid-sentence, swatting at his brother’s shoulder, before continuing; “Uh, let's see. Oh! We don’t talk anymore, you didn’t ride your motorbike so much at home, you used to ride in the jeep with me. It’s like a totally different world now.”

“I didn’t know you felt like that.” There was a palpable kind of feeling in the air, something between them that was sizzling with electricity, before Stiles sighed.

“It’s no big deal. The difference is just that we’re both so busy now.”

“That was really good, actually. Thanks.” The two seemed to have forgotten you were there, both flinching and turning to face you again, matching sets of honey-coloured eyes in varying shades were fixing on you again. “Speaking of what you said, though, does it ever make it hard for you guys when your class times are so different?”

“Hard to do what?” Stiles squinted at you, face set in a frown that his twin normally wore.

“Hard to hang out, talk, have that whole brotherly bond going on.” Your clarification did little for Stiles, his brows still pulled tight and frown never moving, but Noah’s face smoothed out.

“Oh.. well, I g-”

“Totally.” Noah pressed, and once again, Stiles’ head whipped around to look at his brother. “Don’t look at me like that. You basically said it, anyway. We don’t talk so much anymore. We barely know each other. You don’t even tell me about your podcast, anymore.”

“You never listened!”

“You used to tell me your problems, not broadcast them to the world with jokes and humour! I missed two episodes, and you just stopped keeping me updated on it.” The moodier twin crossed his arms over his chest, and you swallowed thickly at the environment you had unwittingly created. “I don’t know. Just feels like we used to talk a lot more.”

They both went silent, and Noah shot you a pleading look, but there was something darker behind it. It almost felt venomous, angry or defensive, as though to say ‘I told you so’ about it being more personal now that they were home. Stiles was occupying himself with pulling a loose thread on their couch cushion out and making it that much worse, distracting himself from it all. “Well, how about something a little bit lighter. Just some questions about hobbies. Stiles, what inspired you to first start a podcast?”

“Well, as you know, I never stop talking.” He smirked, Noah laughing beside him, and just like that, the awkward air between them both was completely evaporated. “I had a lot to say, I had a lot to get off of my mind. At first, it was just to get my thoughts out there. It was kind of like a recorded journey for myself, and to share with my friends from back home. But, then other people started listening. I thought it was going to be the end of my college social life, a social life that I was developing for the first time ever, and they liked it. I was just talking into a mic and getting things off of my chest, making no sense while telling stories and bitching about my homework and suddenly I had friends. It got a whole lot of followers and I made new friends,”

He paused, offering you a wink for the comment, and you beamed.

“-and I was going to parties, I met my boyfriend at a pep rally, and everything just kinda.. blossomed. The more I got out of it, the more inspired I was to keep going. I ended up making multiple videos a week, all differently themed. Sometimes movie reviews, sometimes songs, sometimes just talking. That’s how ‘Mischief Mic’ was born.”

“Alright. That was awesome.” Stiles bowed as best he could from sitting on the couch, and reached over to take a sip of his drink. “Okay, Noah, have you got any hobbies that you didn’t have in high school that you found when you came to college.”

“Not really.”

“Not even one?” You pushed, and the arms folded over his chest tightened, his gaze going to the floor, socked toes pushing into the twist cable rug. He took his glass, swigging all of it, the water draining from the glass in nervousness, and you could hear the crickets inside your mind chirping to fill the silence that had formed.

“No. Not really. I’m going to get more water, feel free to continue.”

“Uh, okay.” You pressed your pen down into your paper, drawing a line through the question on your paper as you realised you’d have no answer to that question when you listened back on the tape at a later time. “Stiles, back to you, then.”

Your next question came, and went, and Stiles was more than happy to answer them. Occasionally, Noah would answer a question, you’d be able to pin him down long enough to get a straight answer out of him, but there seemed to always be something that he needed to mess with, or fix. Almost half of your questions for him had a line drawn through, and you would have to ask them another time, and get a whole extra session in without Stiles, dragging the study out.

It was going to take you twice as long to get through it all if every time you had to ask them separately, and had to spend your time trying to force him to sit and answer. You were missing half of the information that you needed to be able to compare to Stiles’ answers, you couldn’t answer without them.

The clock ticked by, leaving you with all of your questions for Stiles answered. On a blank page, while Noah had once again been tinkering with something in the kitchen, you’d rewritten up all over the crossed out questions that would still need answers. You had doodled on the corner again, waiting for him to come and sit back down, a collection of hearts and flowers, the occasional bee or ladybug, even a couple of misshaped stars, forming a banner across the top of the page.

When he finally came to sit back down, he huffed, eyes moving to the clock as though he was waiting for this to end just as much as Stiles was, and you gave up.

“Okay, how about we just finish this up?” You had reached the end of your tether, not even bothering with the rest of the questions that were written down for him. “We got almost two hours in, that’s perfect.”

Noah sighed, something like an apology in his look as your eyes met his and he shrugged lightly. Stiles only nodded, eyes flicking up to the clock on the wall, and he was grinning when he came back. Tearing a page out of your notebook for each of them, you passed it over, blank paper sitting before them, and you searched for a pen or pencil in the bottom of your bag for each of them. Placing your pen down before Stiles and a pencil in front of Noah, they both leaned forwards, picking them up. Switching off your recorder and packing it away, you were left with the two staring at you expectantly.

“Okay, Stiles, come fill yours out in the kitchen. You can’t discuss these ones.”

“Oh, some mystery. I like that.” He picked up his paper and pencil, heading over to the kitchen counter, folding the sheet in half as he did, and you nodded. Standing from your place behind the coffee table, your bag slumped a little more from where it had been propped against your leg.

“Okay, I want you both to try self-diagnosing yourself.” Stiles gasped, a little excitement lacing it, and his pencil was already moving over the paper. Noah, however, looked a little lost, looking to you for guidance. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to use professional terms, just, describe what you think, I’ll be able to figure it out, and if I can’t, I’ll ask you about it at some point.”

He nodded, pausing, not quite as eager to get into the activity as Stiles was, before the pencil finally met the paper, and the slow scratching of graphite over paper filled the silence.

Moving away to the kitchen, you searched for plates, and a dish, laying them out on the counter before moving to the oven. A wave of hot air into your face once you pulled the door open, and when it cleared, you search for the kitchen towel you’d brought with you. Wrapping it carefully around the edges of the tray inside, you pulled it out, resting it atop the oven and closing the door back up.

Flicking off the handles, the light inside went dead, and Stiles loomed up behind you. “Smells good!” He presented a piece of paper to you, your eyes flicking over what he’d written once you’d taken it from him, and everything that he’d written about himself seemed completely accurate. It wasn’t a surprising self-evaluation, Stiles had spent almost four years studying this, just like you had, and so it was bound to be accurate and professional. Even if his handwriting looked a little bit like chicken-scratch.

Noah was still working on his, and Stiles was picking at the edges of the tinfoil, trying not to touch the glass of the casserole dish and burn himself, and as soon as he had some foil pinched between his fingers, he was pulling it back. “Wait, Stiles, watch out for the-”

“Fucking steam! Oh, my God, that’s so fucking hot!”

His hand snapped back, half unpeeled as all the steam from inside clouded in the air, and his hand was clutched to his chest. He was glaring at the pot, before moving away and running his hands underneath the cold tap at the sink, his thumb rubbing over wet skin to soothe it.

A second later, Noah was appearing, placing his paper face down on top of Stiles, which now lay on the kitchen counter. “Well, now that I’ve been scalded by pasta, I’m going to go shower and get ready.”

“M’kay.” He backed away, and Noah leaned on the counter beside you.

“Looks good, but does it taste any good, is the question.” The twin you were left with was teasing you, your eyes finding him, and you raised a brow.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get me something to serve it up with, alright?”

He smirked, pulling open the drawer behind him and searching for a serving spoon. Slicing it into pieces, you dished it up for him, a large slab on a plate, still steaming with cheese that had only just stopped bubbling. He grabbed a fork, and one for you too, waiting patiently as you served yourself, and put whatever was left into a dish for Stiles, covering it back up and leaving it to cool.

“Okay, prepare for the best lasagne of your life.”

Picking up the papers and your plate, the two of you moved back to the couch, sitting opposite one another, and you waited with excitement. Taking a piece off of his plate with the edge of his fork, he raised it, blowing cold air over it for a few moments, before taking the bite. There was a tense few moments, while he chewed, face unreadable, before he was swallowing the mouthful.

“Well?”

You couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, a smile on his face at the desperation you showed for his answer, and he gave in. “Alright, alright. This may actually be the best lasagne I have ever had.”

“Yes!” Your hands went up in the air, cheering excitedly and he laughed at your reaction, holding his hand up when you forced him to, palms slamming together in a high-five. He was tucking in again, and you reached for your plate, excited for the meal you had made, Taking a large piece on the tip of your fork, you tucked in.

The sound of Stiles’ shower was running in the background, and he was singing loudly, a song that you were certain was a TV show intro but you’d never seen the show, and there was a chance it was something from Disney Channel. Picking up the pieces of paper again, you turned Noah’s around to face you.

You’d had an expectation, you knew what you thought he was going to write down, and yet you were somehow surprised and entirely not surprised at the same time. It was what you expected but with a twist. He had confidence in what he’d written about himself he was sure of it, and while there were definitely elements that you’d disagree with, there was a lot of truth to it, and you frowned, reading it again.

Noah was watching you do so, the scrape of forks over plates as the lull in chatter came back, and you place the two pieces of paper into the front of your notebook, making sure that it was all sealed tightly away. “Is it alright?”

“It’s just not what I expected from you. But, it’s perfect.”

“That feels like a backhanded compliment.” He smiled softly, but he looked nervous, and you shook your head.

“Not at all, it just means that you have a better grasp on this whole thing than I thought you did.” It was the truth, and while you didn’t want to reveal so much to him about it all without compromising your work, but it made sense. “It just feels like with the way today went, like you weren’t really so interested in it, so I didn’t expect such an accurate self-diagnosis from you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighed, pushing what was left of his food around the plate, and you copied him, appetite dwindling. “It’s just that when you’re here, in my apartment, and you’re asking questions about what changed and making me confront everything, it feels like real therapy. You said it was going to be casual, and this didn’t feel casual.”

“I get it. I really do, and it’s okay. I can just email you the questions you didn’t answer, and you can get around to them whenever you feel up to it, alright?” He nodded, shaking off the evening’s stress. He continued to eat, polishing off the meal that was laid out before him and settling his hands over his stomach once he was finished. There was a satisfied smile on his face, and your empty plate was soon stacking on top of his own. Leaning forwards a little, you caught Noah’s eye, and one of his brows arched up. “I can try to make it more informal, in the future.”

“That would be great, actually.”

You smiled, the consolidation made between the two of you, and your ears picked up on another sound. “Hold on, is Stiles blow-drying his hair?”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed, head turning to the closed bathroom door where his brother resided. “He thinks it makes his hair fluffy.”

“He gels his hair, though! Why does it matter if it’s fluffy?”

“He’s insane. Don’t you know this, yet?” Noah scoffed, and your giggles carried you back into the rest of the chair as you settled back into it. The evening was still waiting to come in fully. Comfortable quiet fell between you both again, and Noah moved away to take the plates to the kitchen. He left them in the sink, water running to wash them up, before storing Stiles’ lasagne in the fridge.

The aforementioned boy moved from the bathroom to his bedroom, skidding on the floors a little and clutching the towel to his waist as he hurried, making himself late with the extra-long shower and the blowdrying of his hair. Noah was washing up the plates, leaving them to dry on the draining rack, and you took that as your cue. The night was over, that much was clear, and you’d be willing to bet that he was more than eager to get back to his alone time.

Taking your bag and double-checking that you had everything, you swung it up onto your shoulder, and made your way toward the door. Hearing the shuffling of your feet, Noah turned, drying his hands on the towel beside him. “Are you going?”

“Feels like I should. Stiles will be going soon, anyway. I’m sure you have things to do, too.”

“I don’t have anything to do, if I’m being honest.” He cringed at his own words, pulling down the rolled-up sleeves of his hoodie and making his way over to you. Undoing the catch on the door, he pulled it open, leaning against it and you linseed in the doorway.

“Since you’re not doing anything, do you wanna’ get a coffee with me?”

His eyes narrowed, just for a second, and his fingers tapped anxiously on the wood of the door. “As a study subject, or..?”

“As friends.” You confirmed, his lips a thin line for only a second, before pulling up at the sides in a smile.

“Then, yeah. I’d like that.” He looked down, sweatpants and mismatching socks on his lower half, and there was a tint on his cheeks when he looked up. “Just give me two seconds to go change, alright?”

He darted away before you had a chance to reply leaving you there with the words frozen in your throat. Stiles was clattering around behind his own door, and Noah’s door slammed shut, leaving you alone in the doorway. Your hands tapped against your thighs as you waited, bag swinging on your shoulder, and only a second later, one of the doors was opening.

To your surprise, it was Stiles, flapping the flannel on his body to shake out any creases, and he stood before you. Doing a little twirl from where he stood, he began to button it up down his front, looking somewhat smart. It was a nice black and white one, no rips or tears or stains like most of his other ones, and the black stood out prominently against the white, thick patterns with flecks of grey within it.

“How do I look, then?”

“You look great, Sti. I’ve never seen you wear anything so plain before. There’s no colour.”

“Yeah, well, this is a new flannel. It’s my best one, and the skinny jeans are Noah’s. All my skinny jeans are blue or red, it was this or khakis.” He was nervous, resisting the urge to mess with his freshly-styled hair. “The place we’re going to is kinda fancy, but I don’t feel fancy enough for it. I’m gonna’ do something stupid like drop my glass and smash it or make a joke about something dumb.”

“Haven’t you met his family before?” You teased, and he huffed, searching for his keys, and finding them under the counter where he’d never bothered to pick them up from.

“No, not really. I’ve met his mom because she comes to visit a lot, and of course, his little sister, because she’s a sophomore here. But, he has a lot of family. His extended family are coming to graduation, but this is his older sister and his dad, and his uncle, and I’ve never met them before.” His keys were tucked into his back pocket, and his phone followed, your gaze moving over him.

“You got a blazer, Stiles?”

“Uh, yeah. One that my dad made me promise to bring, I wore it to my senior prom.” He shrugged, hands smoothing over his front. “You think I should wear it?”

“Go get it, show me.” He nodded, moving back to his bedroom, and you were waiting for something with orange and blue stripes to come back out, which wouldn’t surprise you. In fact, you’d always imagined Stiles going to his senior prom in a Beetlejuice suit. Noah emerged from the other side of the hall, hangers scraping over their post in a wardrobe as Stiles searched for them. “Did Stiles go to prom in a Beetlejuice suit?”

Noah paused, rolling the edges of his hoodie up, charcoal grey skinny jeans that were only a few shades lighter than the ones Stiles had stolen from him on his legs, and a pair of his usual scuffled boots. “What?”

He was laughing, loudly, shaking his head to hide his grin. “It’s a legitimate question! I have this mental image of it!”

“Unfortunately, he did not. My dad made us both go in three-piece formal suits. He saved up to have them custom made. Said that every man should have a smart suit.” He shrugged, crouching to start tying the laces on his shoes and Stiles reappeared. Over his shoulders was a dark black suit, crisp collar and pressed edges, and it was a beautiful piece of tailoring.

“You look good, Sti. Very smart, but casual. Like a polished version of your usual self.”

“Yeah? Good enough to meet Derek’s family?” His voice shook, and you wished you could ease him more.

“Totally. You look great.” He thanked you both, and Noah grabbed his wallet from the side, and his house keys, letting them both hang in the front pocket of an oversized hoodie.

“You ready to go?” He offered, hand on the top of the door, and Stiles’ head snapped up again from where he’d been checking his phone, presumably looking for texts from Derek.

“Where are you two going?”

“We’re getting coffee!” You beamed, and Noah nodded, stepping a little further out of the door with you.

“Oh, well, have fun. I’ll text you updates about how it goes. I might need bathroom-break pep-talk during the night.” You waved to him as you went, wishing him ‘good luck’, before the two of you were wandering down the halls. Thumbing the button for the elevator, the doors popped open, and you were stepping inside along with Noah.

“So, you wanna’ show off those new small talk skills to me, then?”

“Okay, okay. Let me think of something.” He hummed under his breath, glancing up to the top of the elevator and looking around at the posters on the walls for inspiration, and he seemed to find one. Turning his attention quickly back to you, you prepared for what he’d found. “Have you listened to any of the student bands? There’s been a lot of them growing, lately.”

“I’ve noticed that, actually.” There were several posters up around the inside of the elevator, different coloured flyers, some on shiny paper and some on smooth matte, varying fonts and designs, it was dizzying. “I haven’t, I’ve never been to see a student band. I should do that before I graduate, though. Have you?”

“I’ve been to a couple.” The door clicked open, the two of you stepping through it. Out into the setting chill of the evening that was threatening to break its way in. He chose the direction you’d be going in, heading toward the coffee shop on the side of campus that had been the first the two of you had met at when beginning the study. “Some of them are good, some of them are kinda’ average. They usually play at the bars on the edges of campus or in the places in the city, the less well-known, kinda’ alternative places. They can be fun.”

“You going out optionally to a night on the town? I’m shocked.”

“Uh, no!” He protested, grinning at you. “I’ve never been for a ‘night on the town’, and I never will. However, going to one of the few small bars around here that aren’t practically a nightclub, to listen to covers of good songs and get a pint without worrying about anyone bothering me or mistaking me for my brother, that’s nice.”

“Okay, well, maybe I’ll go to one sometime.”

“You should, I think you’d have fun.” The two of you weaved between other students, the small talk keeping up between you both as he did his best, and while it was sometimes a little stuttered and stalled, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. It wasn’t until the two of you had entered the coffee shop that he fell into tight silence again. The crowds, the rush of chatter from other groups gathered around the tables, and the friendly greetings of baristas whose chit-chat diverted to him due to his allegiance with you.

“What are you drinking? My treat.”

“Uh, just a black coffee.” He choked out, eyes flicking over all the boards, so many options up there, and you chuckled.

“Really, just a black coffee?”

“I’ve never really experimented. I just ordered whatever was the quickest and the easiest.” He confessed, already glancing back over his shoulder at the queue that was forming behind you both. “What would you recommend?”

“Hm, well, do you have a sweet tooth?” He only nodded, scratching around his cuticles on one hand and staring down at the flesh growing red, and you took his hand. Lowering it back down to his side, the hand formed a fist, flexed nervously, and you let it go, squeezing comfortingly first. Turning to the barista, she was still waiting patiently, and your eyes moved over the boards overhead. “Two mint and dark chocolate hot cocoas.”

“That sounds really good, actually.” He leaned down, mumbling the words into your ear to make sure you heard the quiet tone over the talk in the small coffee house.

“And, two croissants, too.” She rang it up on the machine, and you leaned in a little closer to her. “Do you have any of the warm and fresh ones straight from the oven?”

“We made a fresh batch about twenty minutes ago, they’re cooling. I’ll get them from the back for you.” She finished it with a wink, passing the card machine over to you once you’d produced your card from your wallet. Swiping it across the reader, you moved to the end of the line, and she moved away to begin preparing your order as someone else took over at the counter.

She was working, creating two beautifully constructed hot chocolates for you both. Placing them down on the counter before you, once they were garnished with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, she disappeared into the back room. Taking one of the ceramic plates with her, you were happy to see her bypass the glass cabinet with the older ones in, and only a moment later, she was coming back. Two fresh croissants on a plate, still warm and soft to the touch, and she handed those over as well.

Noah had been scouting for a place to sit, choosing which was the best one, and he carried both of the drinks while you carried the pastries, guiding you to the seat he’d chosen. It was tucked away in the back, a small loveseat sofa with a low sitting coffee table in front of it, and as soon as the paper cups were down on the surface of the table, he was dropping down into the seat.

“It feels like rush hour on the highway, but with coffee.” He mumbled, and you settled onto the couch beside him passing him his drink over, and he stared at it curiously. “What about the whipped cream. Do I eat that first? Scrape it off? Mix it in?”

“Any of the above.” You grinned, taking a wooden stirrer from the condiments tray in the middle and beginning to stir the cream into your hot chocolate. He placed it down, copying your actions, stirring slowly and trying not to spill any over the edges, but it was an impossible feat to achieve. Sticky droplets left over the edges of your cups and his, creating rings on the table that you had to mop up with tissues. “Okay, try it. This is one of my favourite orders here. It’s bitter because of the dark chocolate, but also sweet. Reminds me of you.”

“Now, that one is a backhanded compliment.” He muttered, taking a sip of the drink, and your lips rubbed together.

“Not everything is a backhanded statement, you know. I didn’t intend for it to be mean, it’s just the truth. You’re all dark and moody, but I can already tell you’re sweet on the inside.” You sipped your drink to finish your statement, and he filled the time where he didn’t know what else to say by pulling a chunk off of his croissant. Chewing on it idly, he settled back into the cushions, and you lifted your legs up to fold underneath yourself as you turned to face him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve already asked me a lot of questions today.”

“You didn’t answer many, though. You kinda’ have to give me this one.” He scowled falsely, but nodded, licking a flake of pastry from his lower lip. “Not that I think you need it, because personally, I think you’re just fine, but why are you so scared about therapy? The idea of it, anything to do with it, it makes you so closed off. Even more than usual.”

His eyes moved over the room, nervously, before scanning both you and the table, and you put your drink down, holding open palms up to him.

“No recorder, no study. I’m just curious.”

“Okay.” He sighed shakily, and slumped back. “Well, after my mom died, my dad made me and Stiles have therapy when we started acting out. We had a therapist who came to the house, and she was great, don’t get me wrong, but I hated it. I didn’t want her to tell me how to grieve or mourn, and I didn’t want her to tell me how to move on. Stiles needed all the advice he could get, but I didn’t want it. I wanted to do it my own way. Now, the idea of therapy, brings back all those feelings of sadness and pressure and stress.”

“I’m sorry, Noah.” You reached out, rubbing a hand over his shoulder, and his gaze fell to the contact. “Genuine sympathy and sorrow, not just that thing girls do that you hate.”

“Stop hanging things I’ve said over me, I don’t remember half of them. I blackout in social situations.” He grinned, moving past the moment, and you withdrew your touch.

“You know, if it makes you feel any better, I understand the nervousness of being in a study.”

“Yeah?” He picked up the rest of his croissant, a large chunk of it being eaten, as he waited for you.

“Yeah. When I moved here, I was so nervous. I was beginning to take my course and I didn’t really have any friends, and there was a senior who needed freshmen for her study.” Noah grinned, settling in for the story and sipping his drink. “She was doing a study about the difference between kids who travelled far from home for college alone as opposed to those who were still close to home, and whether it impacted social clubs, grades, all that. To be fair, it was an awesome study.”

“It sounds like it.”

You smiled, swirling the cup in your hands to gather any loose powder that may have begun to separate and gather at the bottom. “Well, I got drawn into it. She was a senior, and she was nice. I had no friends yet, I was in a flat-share with Allison and Lydia and three other girls who were all too busy getting adjusted to college themselves. So, this senior, she invited me to a party, and then another one, and suddenly people started wanting to be my friend because I was the freshman who hung out with seniors. I figured it would all drop away when her study ended and she didn’t need me anymore, but by then the whole social hierarchy had done its thing, and there I was.”

You shrugged, and Noah was hiding a shit-eating grin behind his mug. “So, you were just a little freshman lab rat, then?”

You scoffed, your laughter mixing with his, and the two of you were left in subtle amusement. His laughter was cut short, though, brought a rapid halt when a set of legs bumped against your table on the other side, followed by two more behind them.

“Hey, girl!” One of the girls on the cheer team, a lacrosse player behind her and a girl who you recognised from your psychology class texting on her phone. “Saw you over here, wanted to know what your plans for the evening were. We’re going to do some karaoke and get some food, you wanna’ come?”

Your eyes moved to Noah, whose attention was fixed on the floor again, as though the splintering wood was of utmost interest. “Maybe another time. I think we’re good here for now.”

“Oh, you sure? I think it could be super fun, you should both come.” The invitation was now extended to you both, and you shook your head at her despite it.

“Seriously, you should go, if you want to,” Noah whispered, and when you turned back to him now, he’d dared to look up, chewing on a lower lip that would go raw, but he met your gaze.

“No, I’m sure. I’m having fun here.” You held his gaze for a second longer, before turning to her, and confirming your denial, and she smiled, promising to make plans with you soon, before she was walking away. Noah was fidgeting beside you, shuffling in his seat, and you could practically feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves. “I’m serious, Noah. I’m having fun, and I’m perfectly happy here with you, right now.”

He was trying not to grin, a smile that was being bitten back on the inside of his cheek. “Well, for the record, I’m having fun too.”

“What was that?” You cupped your ear, challenging him to repeat it, even though you had heard it perfectly, and by the look on his face, he knew the game you were playing.

“I said I’m having fun. I won’t deny it.”

“Two victories in one day, for this gal. I’m breaking down all your walls, Noah Stilinski.” You poked at his cheek, and he swatted your hand away, taking a bite from your croissant as punishment, and you tried to snatch it back from him.

“Two victories, one loss. You’re not getting this croissant back, now.”

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httpsaiki · 4 years ago

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Saiki with an s/o who just cups his cheeks and tells him they live him for the first time ever.

Hi! This is adorable, thank you so much for this request!! I did a story, not headcanons and it kind of got off track, but I hope you like it!

—

I went into way too much detail about cupcakes in this, I got carried away, oops. I'm back, though! After months I finally refound my love for this show and along with it my inspiration for writing! I hope this isn't too bad, I wrote it all in one go. I have been writing a personal project, but I doubt I've improved that much in the last couple months. Thank you if you read this! I hope to have more to post soon!

Reader is gender neutral!

WC: 1533

Italics represents Saiki speaking telepatically!

Saiki with a S/O who cups his cheeks and tells him they love him for the first time.

—————————————————–

Your week had been anything but easy. Balancing a school and social life wasn’t supposed to be easy, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. It seemed every assignment was due at some point this past week and every class had some sort of test or exam. On top of everything, your friend group decided it was the perfect time to meet up to study nearly every single day. It was completely and entirely exhausting. You hardly got a free moment to yourself.

To make matters worse, you hadn’t seen Kusuo the entire time. He was part of your friend group, yeah, but by some miracle, he managed to dodge every study session. It was almost like he had superpowers. On most weeks like this, Kusuo was the only thing that could get you through it, being around him was oddly healing - even if he’s a jerk about it sometimes, you miss him dearly. He had some sort of ability to keep you calm and content, just being around him was enough to relieve some of the day's stress. Kusuo was there for you no matter what, whether he was willing to admit that or not. You knew it to be true and he knows you know. That’s enough.

You could feel him rolling his eyes if you were to tell him anything you just thought, that is. That never stopped you, though, you needed to make sure he knows you care for him. No, care is not a strong enough word. You’re sure you love him, there’s no doubt in your mind. How can you go about telling him? He of all people definitely deserves to know he’s loved.

Plotting how you’d tell Kusuo that you love him turned out to be a fantastic stress reliever. Laughing all you want about the cheesy, made-up scenarios you come up with did wonders to calm you down. Anything from a mock proposal on the beach, to screaming it off a cliff. Most of them weren’t realistic, nor to either of your tastes. But they were fun, and that’s all that mattered. You finally decided on telling him the one way you knew he’d like best. Sweets. Content with your idea, you prepared for bed. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

You woke bright and early. So early, in fact, that the sun had hardly even began to rise. There was work to be done. Quietly, you made your way down to the kitchen, careful enough not to wake anyone up. You decided on a quick and easy breakfast, you could never go wrong with toast. While the bread was toasting, you got out cupcake trays and your cake recipe, reading it over and gathering any ingredients you need. You left any ingredients that needed to be refrigerated in the fridge but prepared measuring cups and bowls for them. Anything that didn’t need to be kept cold was put into the appropriate bowl - wet or dry. As you were measuring out the last of your dry ingredients, you heard a faint pop from the toaster and decided it was time to take a break and eat. Your toast was surprisingly good, probably because you felt you worked for it.

Now was for the easier parts, combining the rest of your recipe and then pouring it into the cupcake trays. You went about your day, waiting for them to finish baking and then cool down. Once they were cool, it was around lunchtime. The perfect time to finish them up with icing. Carefully, you took your time to write out “I love u Kusuo!” Putting each character on its own cupcake - unfortunately having to shorten the “you” so that it would fit on the 12 of them. To add a final touch, you added a couple small heart candies onto some of them. They looked great and you were proud of your work.

As soon as the cupcakes were packaged up and ready to go, you headed immediately out the door. Kusuo didn’t usually like when you showed up suddenly or unannounced, but you carried treats and an important message this time. You were sure he wouldn’t mind too much.

The walk to his house was uneventful as always. You were lucky enough not to run into anyone you knew on the way there. You didn’t want to have to explain yourself and a small part of you expected that running into somebody would only strike disaster - similar to the past week. There was a small skip in your step on the way there, happy to finally see Kusuo after that long, painful week. You didn’t let any of your nerves get to you. Kusuo would take your message well. He had to.

Or, that’s what you were telling yourself as you nervously stood at his doorway. Ringing his doorbell had never been so frightening. You braved it, though, and your finger found its way up to his doorbell. The muffled ring could be heard even from the outside and approaching footsteps that sounded awfully familiar came shortly after.

When the door opened you were greeted with the face you craved to see all week. He looked as unbothered as ever, but the second he stepped aside and his arm gestured to let you in you knew he was happy to see you. With a smile on your face, you went to step inside and-

Apparently, your awful week had yet to cease. Right as you walked in the door, towards Kusuo, your foot caught the bottom of the doorframe. You tripped on it, the box of cupcakes falling along with you. "Oh!” It came out choked and as if you hadn’t meant to say it at all, “No!”

You quickly peeked inside of the box. The icing writing you had worked so hard on was smudged, no longer legible. They were still edible, but the message had been erased. Kusuo was staring down at the cupcakes, an almost puzzled expression on his face. He kept the same expression as his eyes met yours.

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly, “they were for you, I didn’t mean to- to make a mess of them.”

Kusuo only nodded, but it was enough to tell you there was no problem and you hadn’t even needed to apologize. He wasn’t mad.

“Listen, Kusuo I,” you cut yourself off, now that the cupcakes weren’t an option how did you want to tell him?

“Screw it.” You muttered under your breath as you stood up from the ground, dusting yourself off. Now back on your feet, you quickly reached up, placing both your hands on Kusuo’s cheeks. Your thumbs found their way right on his cheekbones, running softly along them. The rest of your fingers could reach to his hair and you had to resist completely tangling them in it. His expression was entirely neutral once more, at the very least he wasn’t offended by your actions.

“I really love you, Kusuo.”

He smiled. He actually smiled. It was genuine, it was beautiful, everything you could’ve asked for and more. His hands were in your cheeks too at this point and he had an uncharacteristically intense look in his eyes.

“I really love you, too.”

Such a simple statement and yet you could feel your cheeks burning up from it. Even worse, his hands were on his face so he could feel it too. He was so close, still smiling at you. You’d never imagined his face was capable of making such a dopey, lovesick smile and yet here he is. And then he hugged you. Tight. He’d never held you like that before, it was so loving and warm. It hardly lasted a couple seconds, so short that you were almost sure you imagined it. As soon as you registered it, it was over, and Kusuo’s normal, unbothered expression remained on his face.

“We shouldn’t let your hard work go to waste, should we? Want to come enjoy these with me?” Kusuo moved down to pick up the box, staring down at them in admiration even if they were a mess by now. You didn’t bother to reply to him, still slightly in shock. You chose to simply follow after him into the other room as he placed the box on a table. Kusuo wasted no time in grabbing one of the cupcakes, his signature sweets-eating-face taking over as soon as he took a bite. It was endearing, to say the least. As if he sensed your hesitation, he nudged the box towards you, encouraging you to take one as well. Despite their state, they still tasted amazing, all your hard work really paid off.

The rest of the day was spent comfortably. You refused to leave Kusuo’s side after everything that happened. You took to ranting about your week and how much you missed him while sat comfortably next to him, right where you wanted to be. Maybe the past week was worth it. You finally got to tell Kusuo you love him and got plenty of time together to make up for it. It had been bad, but like all the times before, Kusuo had a way of making you feel better.

#the disasterous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #saiki #my writing

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shycoconutt · 3 years ago

Text

I Found My Light: Chapter 3 (Kakashi x Reader)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

A/n: Sorry for the delay! Wasn't sure where I wanted to go with this but it came to me in the shower (as all good ideas do). Hope you enjoy it! This story is far from over.

Summary: You attend the group training session where, to your dismay, Kakashi is in attendance.

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: fem!reader, SFW (but won't be in future chapters), violence, angst

Fanart!: Please check out this fanart inspired by this fic by the talented @szamasza <3

If this training session goes like any other typical training session, you are in for a long one. Training usually begins around mid-day and lasts several hours until everyone feels like they’re on the brink of death. Then, when face down in the dirt, Asuma tries to convince everyone to head to the bar on the main street that gives discounts to shinobi. After a few minutes of resounding I’m-too-tireds and maybe-next-times, everyone gives in and spends the remainder of the night into the next morning crammed in a booth getting absolutely sloshed.

This night was like any other night, except not because your anxiety was at an all-time high.

Kakashi showed up about an hour into training, aloof as ever. You were deep in your spar with Genma when you saw him out of the corner of your eye. Genma must have noticed your distraction, as he didn’t hesitate to spit his senbon at you with full force. Luckily you were refocused in less than a second and caught it between your fingers.

“Nice try, buddy,” you teased him, “It’s going to take more than that to throw me off.”

Genma raised his eyebrow at you. ��I don’t know, (y/n), you seemed a little distracted,” he teased.

And just like that, you were back at each other’s throats.

Kakashi ended up finding a spot sparing Gai. Typical of him, as usually Gai is the only one who can keep up ability-wise. Although, Kakashi hasn’t seen how much you’ve grown and a part of you is hoping you’ll get a chance at him. You still have yet to use your chakra sword-whip, your most brutal weapon, in front of your fellow shinobi. It’s remained in its sheath strapped across your back, waiting to be used against the most brutal opponent.

“Alright, alright,” Genma pants, curled up on the ground holding his left side where you just landed a forceful kick, “Please show me some mercy, (y/n).”

“Only if you admit that I’m a better shinobi than you in every way,” you say smugly, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Yes, you are a better shinobi than me in every way. You're stealthy, quick, strong, intelligent, adaptable, beautiful, and, most of all, kind. Which is why you’ll give me my senbon back.” He pleas, still laying on the ground with his hand out to you.

“Mmm, fine,” you tease, pulling the senbon from your hair where you used it to hold it in a bun. “It does make a great hair accessory though. I think I might have to get one for myself.” You help Gemma back up to his feet and stick the metal needle back into his mouth.

He gives you a smirk, still grasping onto your hand. “You should see my collection. I have at least two hundred of these,” he boasts, taking the senbon out of his mouth to twirl it in his fingers. “I‘ll make sure to pick one out for you.”

“I would be honored.” You smile warmly, squeezing his hand.

At this moment you could sense a set of eyes staring at you from the other side of the training field. Well, one eye, you should say, as Kakashi is staring directly at you while he holds Gai in a headlock. His expression is unreadable as his eyes flicker from you to Genma and then back to you. You could swear that you saw his shoulders drop a bit before he brought his attention back to Gai who is currently struggling to breathe in his grasp.

“Ka-ka-shi-ple-ase-le-t-me-go-” Gai gasps, holding onto Kakashi’s arms currently wrapped around his neck. Kakashi’s eyes widen when his attention is brought back to his opponent and he immediately releases Gai from his grasp. With a thud, Gai drops to the floor and sucks in one big breath.

“Are you trying to kill him?!” Kurenai yells as she runs to tend to Gai who is sitting on the ground rubbing his neck. Everyone else on the field stops what they’re doing when they notice the commotion and circle around Gai wondering what happened.

“I’m sorry-” Kakashi starts, hands back in his pockets still staring at Gai wide-eyed.

“Apologies are unnecessary my rival!” Gai cuts in, still gasping for air. “Flashes of my youth came to me as I was falling out of consciousness. It reminded me how much there is to live for. I thank you for the near-death experience, Kakashi!” Gai quickly recovers and stands up, dusting the dirt from his green jumpsuit. “You win this round, but I wouldn’t get used to it!” Gai challenges, holding out a hand for Kakashi to shake.

“Yeah, sure Gai.” Kakashi agrees sheepishly, accepting Gai’s hand.

“Damn, Kakashi.” Genma starts, a smug smile pulling at his mouth. “The Anbu made you a pretty ruthless fighter, huh? I didn’t realize friend-killer Kakashi applied to us too.”

You could hear everyone in the circle try to hold in their gasps after registering Genma’s statement. Kakashi’s whole body stiffened and you could see the appearance of a grimace form under his mask. He is visibly uncomfortable. Yet, instead of looking at Genma who just addressed him, he is looking at you.

You suck in a breath, feeling terrible for Kakashi. Rumors spread, nicknames are formed, it’s all a part of being a shinobi. But “friend-killer Kakashi” is on a whole other level of petty.

That jerk.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Genma?” You turn to him and yell. “What makes you think you can say shit like that?”

“Oh c’mon!” Genma retorts. “We were all thinking it! This is the first time he’s been back training with us since the Anbu. You’ve heard what people have said about him. I’m surprised one of us isn’t already dead!”

This time no one was able to hold in their reactions as gasps escaped everyone in the circle.

You are fuming.

“Actually, Genma, the only one you should be worried about killing you is me because I am a second away from shoving that stupid senbon down your throat.” You take a step forward, challenging him.

“Hey, hey,” Genma retreats, taking a step back with his hands up in defense. “I was just trying to look out for us, for you especially. I mean out of all of us, you should be the most concerned. You know, with the whole situation that happened with Ri-”

You close the gap between you and Genma in seconds, grabbing the collar of his vest, you yank the senbon from his mouth and hold it against his throat.

“If you finish that sentence it will be the last words you ever speak.” You threaten. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You have no idea the details of what Kakashi has been through. What Rin went through. What I went through. It isn’t your place to speak about a situation you know nothing of. So do us all a favor and shut up.” You let go of his vest and shove him back a couple steps.

“Wow, damn, okay, sorry.” Genma apologizes, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I was just joking around. There’s no need to be so serious about it, (y/n).”

“My hand went through Rin’s heart,” Kakashi speaks up from his silence. “There’s nothing to joke about.”

Hearing Kakashi speak this hard truth sends a sharp pain through your heart, and you instinctively grasp onto the part of your shirt lying over your chest.

You turn and look back at Kakashi, who meets your eyes.

Pain.

So much pain.

You turn to step towards him, but he’s already retreating from the circle.

“I think that’s it for me today guys. I’ll catch you around another time.” Kakashi says as he turns away from the group giving you one last glance. Heading towards the forest, he reaches around to his pouch and pulls out his Icha Icha novel, bringing it in front of him to pick up where he left off.

After a few silent beats, Asuma claps his hands together to bring attention to him.

“So,” he starts, “drinks anyone?”

Everyone immediately becomes more relaxed now that the focus has shifted. You, on the other hand, are feeling so tense that you start to hear ringing in your ears. You get that Asuma is just trying to relieve the tension in the group, but you can’t help but be annoyed that he’s trying to move on from what just happened so quickly.

Kurenai meets your gaze and can read your annoyance. She gives you a pleading look that says drop it for now, (y/n).

Everyone in the circle, including Genma, give a resounding “yes” and head in the opposite direction of Kakashi back towards the village. You're left alone standing in the middle of the grounds as they make their way out.

“(Y/n), are you coming?” Kurenai calls out to you.

You contemplate for a second and begin to wave her off.

“I think I’m going to stay here for a minute. You guys go on ahead, I’ll meet up with you later,” you reply. Honestly, you have no intention of getting back together with them, as any place where Genma is hanging out is the last place you want to be.

“Okay,” Asuma shouts back at you, “we will be at that one bar on main.”

“As always.” you joke back, trying to sound light-hearted.

Once they are out of sight you turn to look back at the trees that Kakashi exited through. You have absolutely no idea where he could be headed to or how fast he could be traveling through the trees. It might be a waste of time to head out after him. After all, if Kakashi doesn’t want to be found, you have no chance of finding him.

Feeling slightly defeated, you plop down to the ground and sit criss-cross in the dirt. You sit up straight and put both of your hands palm-up on each knee. Taking a deep breath in, you feel the breeze rustle through your hair. Taking a deep breath out, you hear the sound of the trees flowing in the wind.

If he wants to talk, he will come to me. In the meantime, I will meditate.

The next time you open your eyes, it’s dark out.

Damn, how many hours have passed?

You close your eyes.

More time passes.

The next time you open your eyes, Kakashi is sitting a few feet across from you mirroring your position.

His eyes are open.

As if your thoughts are mirroring each other as well, you both speak in unison.

“I’m sorry.”

#kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi fanfic #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi #kakashi fluff #kakashi imagine #naruto fanfiction #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi one shot #kakashi x yn #kakashi sensei #i found my light

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sketching-shark · 3 years ago

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Hmmmm seems like there’s a widespread sentiment that the Lady Bone Demon disaster at the end of Monkie Kid Season 2 is largely Sun Wukong’s fault due to him having left without telling anyone where he was going & then I thought “oh man he probably thinks the same.” And thus I was inspired for my first fanfic evar, made to carry that line of thought to its logical extreme. TW for violence, body horror, and a downer ending.

Blood From a Stone

He had said it was a journey to the west, but it was clear soon after that this would be a “journey of everyone glaring at Sun Wukong and constantly reminding him how they were only in this position due to his failure.” He guessed he deserved it to some extent, what with the whole leaving on “vacation” thing, but, well, it would be nice if they remembered he wasn’t the Lady Bone Demon herself.

It was obvious a week after the fruition of her plans that that wasn’t happening any time soon.

For the most part, as they were flying off on a quest for the first piece of the flame of Samadhi (”it was the only thing that was able to almost kill me. I’m positive it will be able to take her down”), all the others kept themselves at a distance. Which did make some sense. Even to his successor he was largely an unknown, and he had overheard Qi Xiaotian finally tell the rest (kid keeps too much to himself oh I wonder where he got that from) about all the horrible, horrible things that had happened in Sun Wukong’s absence and that the kid thought he had to deal with alone. About the spider clan, about the possessed little girl and the powerful, malicious spirit behind it all, about Macaque and his enslavement lantern and his story of the evil “hero” and the abandoned warrior. And most damningly for himself, how every time Qi Xiaotian tried to talk to him and tell him of his fears and concerns, Sun Wukong had brushed him off, too wrapped up in his own actions to think the kid needed assurance or guidance or just someone to listen. So now they all didn’t just hold him at a distance, but now only talked to him with chilly politeness at best and a cold hostility at worst. The once excitable scholar Tang now only approached him when necessary, the blue giant Sandy watched him carefully but didn’t say anything (it was like being stonewalled by Sha Wujing all over again), both Bai Longma’s descendant Xiaojiao and the pig yaoguai Pigsy had yelled at him more than twice now (okay, fine, he was a selfish unthinking jerk. He knew. He knew, all right?). With all the yelling, it did feel in some small way like he was back with his long-dead pilgrim group. But now there were no signs he would ever be forgiven or welcomed into the social circle, even as the guy who just hung in the back. Even Xiaotian was getting more and more angry in their daily sparring sessions (”will you deign to train me now, your majesty?”), and more than once the weakened monkey king had gotten bruises and lumps from his student’s wrathful strikes. Sun Wukong told himself it made sense, of course it made sense. This was...this was his fault, and they probably figured that he would run off and abandon them the second he saw something shiny. He understood. But he was a social creature despite his self-imposed exile, and it still hurt.

Sun Wukong was mulling this over the second week into their journey when he realized that he hadn’t been called down to the communal dinner Pigsy always insisted they have. He had been feeling increasingly uncomfortable at these times, and could tell there was camaraderie and laughter that Xiaotian’s group found among each other that left the room as soon as he entered. After that it was just an uncomfortable silence, or for the laughter and conversation to resume while everyone pretended he wasn’t there. But still, he was feeling hungry, and so leapt down from the beam he had designated as “his” spot before padding over to the kitchen. He found it dark and empty, with all pots and bowls and cutlery washed clean and put away.

“There’s no more left.” The pig yaoguai emerged from the storeroom in the back, wiping his hands on his apron and shooting Sun Wukong a glare that was clearly meant as a challenge. “If you wanted food, you should have come when called.” Sun Wukong stared back, and knew that he could he thoughtless, but he wasn’t deaf.

Okay. He had played this “game” before with Zhu Bajie on many occasions. So Sun Wukong knew the situation was this: there had been food and there had been a meal, but because they were mad at him they either didn’t make enough for him, or ate what would have been his share. And he could respond with accusations which would of course escalate (the pig was clearly looking for a fight) or...

or...

“All right. Are there any ingredients left?”

The pig yaoguai regarded him suspiciously. “You can cook?”

“When needed.”

A snort of contempt. “Sure. Seems you’re a whole fountain of skills, but only ‘when needed,’ huh?”

Sun Wukong didn’t raise to the bait.

Pigsy snorted again. “Yeah, there’s stuff in the back. Don’t burn down my kitchen.” With that his fellow yaoguai shoved his way past Sun Wukong, slamming the door behind him and leaving the monkey king all alone.

Sun Wukong felt himself trembling. When he had decided to take on Qi Xiaotian as a successor, he had been feeling hope for the future for the first time in centuries. He thought he had finally found someone who was actually worthy of possessing the strength and power that Sun Wukong had cultivated, someone who would do real good in the world, unburdened by the monkey king’s sordid past. He had been thoughtless. Of course all of his past mistakes and unfinished business would immediately come roaring back the second he showed his face, of course every damned yaoguai out there would go after Xiaotian immediately as the easier target. And his response? Always some version of “you’ll be fine” or “just believe in yourself” before he left, left and abandoned his own student to all sorts of harm. And just look where they were now. Even if (no, when, it had to be a “when”) they defeated the Lady Bone Demon, this was how it was going to be from here on out. And he had no one to blame but himself.

Sun Wukong furiously scrubbed at his suddenly stinging eyes, and jerked a knife from a nearby block before stomping into the storeroom to see what he could eat. He grabbed a mango from a shelf before starting the peeling process. As he worked the knife against the tough skin, his mind circled back and forth over all the failures that marked his life; the burning of Flower-Fruit Mountain and the agonizing deaths of thousands of his beloved monkeys, the deaths of his master and fellow pilgrims, his inability to calm the Demon Bull King, and now this most recent disaster with the Lady Bone Demon not only being freed but getting everything she wanted. He had failed and failed again as a king, a monk, and a mentor, and everyone had to suffer from his mistakes while he was nothing but useless, useless, useless--!

Sun Wukong let out a monkey’s shriek of pain as the knife suddenly slipped and gouged a deep cut across his palm. Hissing in pain, he dropped the half-peeled mango, whipping his head around in a frantic search for something to staunch the blood. He knew he was in for another yelling session if he got the storeroom dirty, and he was trying to stay out of the way and be helpful and not make a mess, but he always failed, and he just wanted it to stop hurting...

A faint curl of smoke suddenly rose out of his palm’s deep gash. Sun Wukong gasped and looked down, and then couldn’t look away. The wound itself seemed to pulse for a few of his heartbeats before it became warm, and then painfully hott6bt. And then, to the monkey king’s astonishment, the exposed blood and muscle turned the golden red of lava and slowly, oh so slowly, started fusing the two sides of the cut back together. The process took over an hour, and that entire time he watched in fascination as his flesh melded back together. When the cut was done mending, there wasn’t even a hint of a scar left. It’s like the wound had never happened at all.

He had lost almost all of his powers to the Lady Bone Demon. But this, the monkey king realized, was something inherent to his nature as an animate stone primate. This was something he could cultivate into true strength.

Sun Wukong smiled, and clutched the kitchen knife. Maybe he didn’t have to be so useless after all.

...

“Monkey.”

Sun Wukong raised his head and was greeted with the hate-filled glare of Qi Xiaotian.

“It’s time to continue training.”

Sun Wukong didn’t like the look in the kid’s eyes, never mind that this was the most he had said to him for two days. It was their fifth week into the journey, first piece of the flame of Samadhi secured, but only after a lot of danger from the Lady Bone Demon’s new minions. They had to assume she knew what they were going after, and while she didn’t have a map of the other two locations it was still a race against the clock as to who would get the other two pieces next. They were all worried and stressed. And the kid’s blows in training had continued to get even more furious, the wounds Sun Wukong sustained more serious (all good practice for cultivating his new power), but it was making him more and more hesitant to spar against Xiaotian. Still, it was true that in their weakened states they needed to figure out ways of fighting that accounted for the loss of strength. The more training the better, even if he usually came out of it sporting a black eye.

“All right, bud.”

“Don’t call me bud” Qi Xiaotian snapped, and spun on his heels to stalk away. Sun Wukong trailed after him into the makeshift sparring the monkie crew had made by shifting boxes around and stacking a number of wooden staffs against the wall. Qi Xiaotian grabbed a staff for himself before all but hurling one at Sun Wukong, and then took his stance. The monkey king felt his fur go erect from the hostility crackling through the air. But if the kid wanted to spar, then they would spar. He owed him that much, at least.

Xiaotian came at him fast, but his anger was making his technique sloppy. Sun Wukong tried to play the good mentor and told him as much while blocking his student’s strikes. Xiaotian snarled and tried again, but did make sure his form tightened into something more vicious, controlled, and unpredictable.They continued for awhile, Sun Wukong giving advice as needed, Xioatian growling in response, before a blow suddenly struck Sun Wukong in the stomach and bent him double.

“Gah! Ouch...okay kid, that was a good blow. Let’s start over and take it from th-”

A sudden crack to the side of his head forced a shriek of surprise and pain, and sent the monkey king tumbling to the ground.

“What are you-!!”

Another strike on his ribs.

“Augh! Sto-!!”

A crack to his jaw.

Sun Wukong, once the great sage equal to heaven, whimpered in fear and pain and scurried as quickly as he could away from his student, who was stomping towards him, murder in his eyes. For a few seconds, Sun Wukong thought frantically through the events of the past few days, wondering what he had done or said to make Xiaotian hate him this much. And then it hit him, all far too late, stupid monkey that he was.

It was everything. It was their whole relationship. It was putting this human in so much danger with so little help from the word go, all that time of being handed a role far too big to fill, and not given even half the preparation or support he should have received. It was the whole mess, and Sun Wukong was, as always, the idiot monkey behind it all.

When all was said and done, Xiaotian’s hatred and violence was completely justified, and Sun Wukong deserved all the pain he might dole out.

Xioatian loomed over him, an expression of wild rage twisting his formerly cheerful features into a frightening mask. He brought the staff up.

And Sun Wukong closed his eyes, and let the punishment commence.

...

He opened his eyes. Both were too fractured to do anything more than squint. Xioatian was still standing over him, suddenly not moving, but Sun Wukong couldn’t make out anything more than a fuzzy shape. He turned his head to the side, and felt the pieces of his broken jaw shift as he coughed up a thick puddle of dark blood. Neither of them said anything (not like he could with his shattered face, deserve it though he did). The only sound in the makeshift training room was the monkey king’s ragged breaths, and Xiaotian’s increasingly erratic ones. Poor kid sounded like he was close to hyperventilating, and Sun Wukong winced in sympathy, remembering the terrible swirl of conflicting emotions he himself had experienced the first time he had beaten a hated enemy to death. The blinding wrath, and then the fear and guilt of one’s own actions warring with a sense of righteousness.

He was hurt, and badly so. But it was only what was owed. The infliction of punishment and pain was Xiotian’s right, just like it had been Tang Sanzang’s before him, and the Buddha himself before that. Sun Wukong now knew that that this was what had to happen: the bad monkey does bad things, and then he suffers a punishment fitting the crime. He understood just how necessary this was, he should be used to it by now, and yet...he would be sobbing his eyes out if he could (his heart had been shattered and ground to fine dust and he could blame no one but himself his fault his fault it was always his fault). But something was different this time. The punishments had always hurt, had hurt this time too. But now, he suddenly realized with a shaky, full-body jolt, that physically, he no longer felt a thing. Not the horror show that was currently his face, not his broken ribs, not his bloodied torso. He was aware of the damage, and yet the pain that should accompany it had at some point through the beating simply stopped registering outside of a dim awareness, like one is aware that the stars exist: there, but not really important for your own life’s events.

It was...a relief. Refreshing, even. Sun Wukong shifted his broken body around a little more, clinically assessing what needed to be fixed. He decided to start with the spine.

Though he now could feel nothing, those weeks cultivating his new talent for self repair meant he could still focus his energy and compel his stone form to go slightly molten. His early training in medicine helped here with deciding how his flesh and nerves and bone should be fixed. In the span of around ten minutes, he was able to sit up and breathe normally and move his arms. He used the restored maneuverability to snap his nose into the correct spot and hold his jaw in the proper place as its pieces fused back together. Soon enough, just like with the first accidental cut and all the intentional ones that had followed, it was like the punishment had never happened. Eyesight restored, he looked up at Xiaotian. His already ashen heart sank a little lower at the sight. The kid was splattered with his blood, his former fury gone. He looked so lost and so, so scared. In a rush, Sun Wukong remembered the horror on Tang Sanzang face when the monk first realized his ability to inflict blinding pain on the monkey king with the golden fillet (that look didn’t last; it had been justified anger and justified contempt afterwards), and then again even further back then that the feeling of taking his first life, a demon who in retrospect was the embodiment of his first real failure. This mountain lord of chaos had, after all, killed monkey after monkey in Sun Wukong’s absence, had done these things while the monkey king was having a grand time learning the secrets of immortality. He had let his fear of death drive him away from his subjects, instead of staying with them and protecting them like a king should.

He really had been a selfish and rotten cretin his entire life, hadn’t he?

Sun Wukong had known this for centuries, but it was now clearer than clear he could never pretend otherwise again.

Sun Wukong stood up, and Qi Xiaotian stumbled backwards with a fearful gasp, hiding behind the blood-soaked wooden staff as much as he could. This new terror all because of him hurt, but it was all too understandable; the kid had once obsessed over the monkey king’s past. He knew how vengeful he once was, how destructive he could be.

“I’m not going to attack you.”

A staring silence.

“Really, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

More silence. Sun Wukong sighed. So this was how his half-baked attempt to train a successor would end. There was nothing he could do or say to make this better.

He should never have tried to take on a student. Just like everything else he did, it was doomed to end in failure and pain.

“You go wash up. I’ll clean everything here. It will be like it never happened.”

Xiaotian dropped the staff, his eyes welling with tears. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if trying to find something to say, before letting out a guttural sob and bolting from the room.

That would be the last time they would speak for weeks.

...

Their looks of suspicion were now mixed with something approaching actual concern. Sun Wukong didn’t understand why. It’s not like he felt anything any more, and his self-repair had now reached a point where he could be very useful to the rest of the group. Just the other day, in fact, he had taken a gutful of spears that had been aimed at Tang, and wasn’t it wonderful how he had been able to beat back their attackers and completely heal those wounds in but a half hour! He just wished that the others could see that. After they had secured the second piece of the Flame of Samadhi and ran back safely to the airship (and he was sorry that Sandy had to expend all that extra effort carrying him on board), they had run around him and stirred up no small amount of commotion (except for Xiaotian, who now always hung back, watching him with haunted eyes that he knew he would make worse if he tried to fix). But beyond the initial surprise, their responses weren’t something Sun Wukong could understand at all, especially since the time between being wounded and his body finishing the repairs was shortening every day. This was all to the good. But still...the two other yaoguai and one middle-aged human kept taking him aside and asking him in varying ways what the hell was wrong with him and why he kept scaring everyone like that. It didn’t seem to matter how often he pointed out that it was because of this wonderful ability that no one else had gotten seriously hurt, or how often explained that he would heal, or that it didn’t even hurt. They just looked more frustrated than ever. When Pigsy inadvertently stumbled across Sun Wukong in the midst of one of his private feeding sessions--the monkey king had stopped going where he obviously wasn’t wanted, and had decided he would no longer eat their food, exchanging it for a diet of stone and ore (he understood now why he had been given nothing but metal pellets to eat and molten copper to drink in his centuries under the mountain; it toughened up his body wonderfully)--the pig man had started with his usual yelling, but had then slapped the chewed-up chunk of metal scrap out of Sun Wukong’s hand, forcibly dragged him into the kitchen, and made him a bowl of noodles right there. He even refused to let Sun Wukong leave until he had consumed every strand, and then forced him to promise that from then on he would be there for the usual evening dinners, and that he would eat what he was given.

Sun Wukong was grateful to leave that scene, and especially grateful that the pig man didn’t seem to know that yaoguai rhesus macaques possessed a throat pouch in which they could store whatever food they might want for later or, in his case, didn’t want at all. The monkey king took extra care to make sure that no one was following him up to the airship’s balcony, that he was completely alone, and then emptied the noodles overboard in one heave. He had some fun watching passing birds start dive-bombing this sudden bounty (covered in monkey saliva though it was), and then pulled out a few bullets he had picked up on their last stop, popping them into his mouth one by one as if they were his favored peach chips.

Even with the promises he now must keep, he could make this work. He could keep getting stronger.

And that had worked for awhile, at least until Macaque made his move.

...

The last time Sun Wukong had seen Macaque, his double had been wreathed in a giant made of shadow and trying to kill both him and Xiaotian. Very little had changed from then, although now the giant before them, having arrived in a burst of blue mist and pinned them down with tendrils of living shadow as they attempted to navigate a narrow ravine, was clearly much more powerful than before, his features now defined not by a purple glow, but by a sickly, blue-white light.

He knew his brother hated him (and for good reason, just like everyone else), but he had at least assumed his love of freedom would keep him from joining forces with a demon known for her desire and ability to possess even her “allies” in every single way.

“HEL. OH. SUN. WU. KONG.”

The voice alone caused the entire crew to wince in pain, even though the malice was directed solely at the monkey king.

“YOR. NO. KING. IM. KING.” The giant crawled closer, that sickly light bathing them all in its terrible glow.

“KILL. KING. THEN. KING. ANLY. WUN. KING.”

Sun Wukong had a sudden creeping suspicion that his brother’s current state might not be as consensual as he had first assumed. The shadow monkey had always prided himself on his intelligence, and whatever was happening with him now seemed to be suppressing everything--even language--not related to destroying Sun Wukong. Well, he had been expecting something like this since he had first overheard Xiaotian’s story of Macaque’s attempt to attack and manipulate him once again, and so had been preparing himself. Thanks to his new wonderful ability to not feel anything Sun Wukong was able to easily ignore how his ribs creaked under the weight of his brother’s tendril of shadow, and by an extreme act of thrashing managed to free both himself and one of the magically enhanced incendiary grenades he now carried at all times. He felt nothing as he threw it into Macaque’s face, nothing but satisfaction at a job well done as the giant monkey reared back, shrieking in pain and dropping the rest of the crew as the tendrils lashed about furiously and uncontrolled. Sun Wukong turned but briefly to Sandy, giving himself only time to say “Get the others to safety. I’ll draw him off your tail” before he flung across the cliff side, his steel-strong fingers and toes easily carving foot and handholds. He had gambled that in this degraded state and with a new pain and further grudge to bear, Macaque wouldn’t even think about taking hostages and just chase after him. He glanced back to confirm his suspicions, and the sight of his brother’s snarling and melting but quickly reforming shadow face coming closer and closer proved him correct. Having reached a stony path within the cliff, he ran, dropping to all fours to quicken the pace, using every trick he could to escape the grasping claws and whipping tendrils of the thing of dumb rage his brother had become. And all the time he could feel Macaque gaining on him, his booming squeals of delight in a chase he was sure to win forcing Sun Wukong to faster and faster speeds. He HAD to get Macaque as far away from the others before he was caught and killed.

He was finally put to ground when Macaque’s gigantic hand swept through the air at a furious pace, but clipping Sun Wukong. It was enough to send the monkey king flying through the air, a huge gouge in his side, and then that same hand slammed into him so hard he it felt like every rib was snapped at once. He was pinned to an unyielding cliffside face before the colossal hand curled into a fist, and he was brought face to face with Macaque, who’s own features twisted into a frightening mix of malevolence and delight.

“CAHT. YU. KILL. YU. THEN. IM. KING.”

By the fruit and flowers of his first home, his brother had been left with a one-track mind. But that had been the case for centuries, wasn’t it? They had been twins, born from the same heaven and earth nourished stone. Macaque had started out as the stronger, more confident one of the pair, soon becoming the unofficial leader of their first monkey troop and long being the unofficial protector and only friend of his timid brother. But how quickly things could change. From but one act of dumb bravery, Sun Wukong became not just the leader but the very king after he alone had dared to jump through that waterfall, discovering in the process a cave in which all the monkeys could be more safe than they had ever been before. And then in the centuries that followed, he had pushed himself to greater and greater acts, gathering knowledge, power, family, friends, hells, an entire mountain rage full of yaoguai that hailed him as a great king. And for a long while Macaque had seemed proud of his brother and happy with this arrangement, but maybe, Sun Wukong thought bitterly, only because he was still the top priority in the monkey king’s life, the one person that Sun Wukong would drop everything to scamper after if Macaque so much as hinted that he should do so, just like when they had been children. Sun Wukong had shared everything he had learned and owned with his twin, and together they had toured the skies and the seas, doing whatever they pleased and going wherever they wanted. And it had seemed good, for awhile. The problems, and his failures, had really started when Sun Wukong had started to make other close friends, while Macaque seemed to want no one really important in his life but his twin. Sun Wukong still remembered their first fight about this, which had started with a snide remark about how Sun Wukong was apparently mooooning after the Demon Bull King, and soon exploded into a full on screaming match in which Macaque accused Sun Wukong of abandoning his own brother so that he could party with a pack of second-rate yaoguai. It had ended with Sun Wukong shame-faced and apologizing for hurting his brother, and promising to spend more time with Macaque, and he did, and the tension was finally over. But then almost the same argument happened again, and again, and again, until it seemed like the only way that Macaque would be happy was if Sun Wukong was practically glued to his side and didn’t so much as talk to any of his subjects without his brother approving. Sun Wukong loved his brother, but he felt lonely and miserable, and Macaque just couldn’t understand that he really wanted other close people in his life (“Why would you possibly want to waste your time with a bunch of other yaoguai? You have me! You’ll always have me!”). It had come to an irrevocable head when Macaque had finally left him alone for something the monkey king couldn’t even remember, and, sick of being screamed at every time he so much as talked to his close friends and sick of being called the Six-Ears’s shadow behind his back and feeling spiteful and confident in his decisions and abilities, Sun Wukong had ordered a huge banquet to be thrown for his six greatest friends--each one of them a powerful yaoguai king--and then and there proposed that they all become sworn brothers. The Peng King, Lion Ni King, Demon Bull King, Scale Flood king, Macaque Demon King, and Snub-Nosed Monkey King had greeted his proposal with cheers and swift agreements, and while they were toasting their new brotherhood, Sun Wukong had felt truly happy and fulfilled. And how sweet it had been when the Six Eared Macaque had suddenly burst in, looking windblown and disheveled and furious and so, so sad, and could do nothing without drawing the ire of six powerful yaoguai warlords as Sun Wukong offered him a generous pour of plum wine and exclaimed, his voice laden with cheerful malice, that he just knew his brother would be so happy to see their inner circle grow in such a wonderful way. And from then on, the monkey king made sure he was never alone with his twin, and spitefully relished in the fact that he had so many good friends, so many close friends, while Macaque had been left all alone, and had no one to blame for his loneliness but himself. But of course, he did, and he had blamed Sun Wukong, and never even once in the following centuries had the monkey king tried to make amends. And so the blame and hurt and endless sorrow of being abandoned by the most important person in his life had twisted an increasingly possessive love into an increasingly obsessive hate, which had grown and grown and grown without relief, and soon after he had been released from his mountain imprisonment Sun Wukong had been left speechless with horror when he had seen what his brother had become in his absence, wearing his form like a second skin and holding his monkey family’s souls captive in a sinister, flickering lantern while their enslaved shadows hung unmoving on the cave walls (”See, Sun Wukong!? I have lots of friends! I’m a much better king than you ever were! I didn’t abandon them! I’m keeping them close! I’m keeping them safe!”). And now this. He wished he had never become sworn brothers with the other yaoguai, love them though he had. If he hadn’t, then maybe they wouldn’t have died in his war against heaven. Maybe he could have helped his brother. Maybe they wouldn’t have ended up like this, with the Six Eared Macaque reduced to a giggling, dumb beast of a pawn, and himself about to die by his own brother’s claws.

“Fine. Get it over with.”

Macaque’s mouth split into a wide grin, a viscous blue fluid leaking out between his shadowy fangs. The terrible pressure of his colossal hand started to increase.

And then Sun Wukong was falling, and Macaque was bawling in pain, and as he hit the ground the monkey king realized someone had cut Macaque’s arm clean off. He barely had time to untangle himself from the gargantuan fingers before a monkey yaoguai, a little taller than himself, with fur the color of bright straw and wielding what was clearly an enchanted folding fan, stepped in front of him in a protective gesture before turning his way.

“Are you all right?”

Sun Wukong couldn’t believe his eyes. He hadn’t felt anything physically for weeks, but his vision went blurry with tears and then he was crying so hard he could barely breathe. But he could still see the other yaoguai’s beloved and terribly missed face suddenly go wide-eyed with surprised recognition.

“S-Sun Wukong?!”

It was one of his best and closest friends, one of his sworn brothers, the Macaque Demon King, the Fair Wind Great Sage herself.

...

The both of them were blown suddenly backwards as the Six-Eared Macaque’s remaining fist smashed into the ground, his echoing shrieks of pain replaced with bellows of rage at the loss of his prey and perhaps, Sun Wukong thought, the appearance of one who had “stolen” his brother away all those centuries back. MDK’s face hardened, and she grabbed Sun Wukong by the back of his tattered shirt before flying them both vertically up the cliff face as swiftly as her self-given title suggested. Sun Wukong felt rattled, but was forced to come to his senses when his former friend shook him roughly and asked with a healthy sprinkle of monkey yaoguai curse words he hadn’t heard in centuries what was going on and what had happened to his brother and damned it all Sun Wukong what kind of mess had he dragged everyone into this time? Forcibly shoving his raging swirl of emotions to the side, he gave her as quick a summary as he could, pausing to drop another incendiary grenade on top of Macaque as he attempted to climb the cliff one handed. MDK listened and watched it all with hard, calculating eyes.

“Well, we did quite a bit of damage, but it looks like your brother has been turned into a creature with a self-repair manual. We’ll need more force than what you’re capable of.”

Sun Wukong glanced down, and saw MDK had been right. Macaque’s face and arm had already repaired themselves, and the giant shadow creature was glaring at them and climbing swiftly upwards, clear murder on his mind.

“Okay” Sun Wukong started, “I’ll go back down there and-”

“Don’t bother,” MDK interrupted. “We’ve got some incoming fire power right...about...”

A sudden bright explosion knocked Macaque right off the cliff face and flung his gargantuan body into the surrounding woods.

“...now,” MDK finished, her voice rich in satisfaction. And then Sun Wukong got the second intensively bittersweet shock of this night as a giant golden monkey yaoguai landed next to MDK, shook herself, and started to complain on how while it was appreciated that she could test her new arm of war out, it was a real shame how the landscape was suffering.

“...S...Snub-nosed?” Sun Wukong’s voice was barely a whisper.

The golden monkey--and it was the Snub-nosed Monkey King--finally stopped her rant and gave him her full attention. “Sun Wukong?!” He couldn’t feel anything, but he had a sudden desperate wish that he could when he was suddenly being held in a tight embrace and spun around. “Hahahahahaaaa!! You unkillable horse-whisperer! You look terrible!!” Sun Wukong was feeling so many conflicting emotions that he couldn’t think up a witty retort if his life depended on it. Soon, all too soon, Snub-nosed set him down.

“So! What in the hells! Here I was with MDK, both of us having a pleasant night walk, and then we hear all this screeching and moaning and come over to discover what’s dying this time, and who should it be but two smelly beasts we haven’t seen in centuries!”

Sun Wukong wished he could just sit with them and tell them all about everything that had happened and be sworn brothers again without the weight of his centuries of sin, but between his rampaging brother and his concern for Xiaotian and his crew, they needed to take care of this problem now.

“Well, that’s obvious! Just give me a second to charge this thing up.”

Sun Wukong stared in shock. The Snub-Nosed Monkey king had always insisted on sporting a grand appearance, and he wondered how many years and how much of her personal wealth she had spent on the artistic, weaponized prosthetics that now gleamed and whirred where her right arm and left leg had once been. MDK unfurled her fan (Sun Wukong could smell the death magic pouring from it), and as a unit they leapt down. Macaque was already up and charging right for them (his own brother, an unthinking, suffering beast, taking blow after painful blow but only capable of charging forward), but Snub-Nosed was calm as she aimed the small cannon that was currently her right arm at his twin.

“Best go for the head, I think. This oughta splatter it in one go.”

“No!”

“You got a better idea, beautiful?”

Sun Wukong was tired of hurting and tired of death, he wanted to make sure they all got out of this alive, and so...

“Snub-nosed, MDK, listen. This shadow giant isn’t his real body. It will repair no matter how many times it’s hit. I can...I can...” by an extreme effort, he forced his eyes to once again work as they had, to see the truth from lies, and there was Macaque himself in the very center of the giant, his fangs pulled into a mask of pure fury. “If you take his arms, I’ll get him for sure.” The two other yaoguai exchanged a look, but agreed. “But let’s make this quick. I won’t have him tearing up my land much longer, and you’re literally crying blood.” They moved together as a troop, Snub-nosed taking the left, MDK taking the right, and himself charging at the center, his eyes locked on those of his twin. Macaque seemed to have forgotten about the other two, his whole focus on his hated brother, and he opened his mouth wide as if to swallow Sun Wukong whole. And then there was a loud boom, the shriek of wind, and Macaque’s enormous face screwed up in confusion. He was falling, and Sun Wukong leapt up, right into the center of the giant. His eyes were still blazing as he grabbed his twin’s true form by the neck, and hurled them both out of the shadow monster as ferociously as he could. He kept Macaque under him as they hit the ground hard, and though he heard something snap, though he wasn’t sure if it was something that belonged to him or his brother. Robbed of his shadow armor, Macaque looked weak, almost emaciated. But in that moment, Sun Wukong couldn’t care. Memories of all the hurt and the pain the this monkey had caused him throughout the years, all the times he targeted his loved ones, and then he went after Xiaotian, manipulating him, hurting him, trying to kill him....the monkey king saw red, forgot all about his desire to get them all out of this alive, and brought his steel-strong nails down.

...

Sun Wukong stood over Macaque, who was lying broken before him, breathing weakly in a wheezy gurgle. He had ripped his brother’s chest and torso to ribbons. The raw meat of muscle and the jelly of intestine even shown through the worst of the wounds. He was covered in Macaque’s blue tainted blood, and felt so sick that he had done this to his own brother but so, so grateful no one else had been hurt...

“Good job.”

The monkey king stumbled backwards, almost falling over until he was caught and held upright by MDK. She pushed him into a standing position, and moved to circle around Macaque, her fan out and teeth bared in a grin of aggression and fear. Snub-nosed followed close behind, giving commands into a phone. “Yeah, we’ll need at least three of the better medics. And the strongest restraints we have. Wha-. For humans or yaoguai?! Of course for a yaoguai!! Friend, I love you but I literally just finished explaining that they’re for a sneaky bastard who can turn into a giant!...Okay, true, fair enough. And yeah, the humanoid cuffs should work just fine. Thanks. Get here soon.” Snub-nosed ended the call with a sigh, and joined the other monkeys. They all stared at Macaque for a few seconds, unwilling to touch him either from fear of making his gaping wounds worse, or in fear of being attacked.

“So, Sun Wukong...WHAT IN THE SHREEE-AKKK IS HAPPENING?!?!?”

Sun Wukong closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and told himself again he couldn’t even pretend he could still be friends with the two beloved monkeys around him.

“Long story short? My foolishness let the Lady Bone Demon escape the prison I had put her in. And now she’s stolen my power and has been hunting me for weeks. She wants me dead and forgotten. Seems my brother was forced into a bid for that scheme. Not like their desires aren’t the same there...”

Snub-nosed interrupted him with a short squeal of anger. MDK’s eyes hardened, her face suddenly contorting into a teeth-bared expression of stress, fear, and aggression, all aimed at him.

“So here we go again, huh? Fruit and fungi, Sun Wukong, how many times will the rest of the world have to suffer from your bad judgement?!” MDK whipped her fan open and closed, as if contemplating sending a blast of deadly wind his way. “We suffer the full force of the heaven’s fire from a war you brought to our homes, you disappear for centuries and return as the attack dog of some sniveling human monk, only to vanish again after putting our brother in the ground for half a millennia, and now this?! I’ll have to agree with Snub-nosed. SHREE-AKK!!! EEEEE-AKKK!! EEEEE-AHHH!!!”

Sun Wukong started at the ground. It was all true, all of it, and he couldn’t even bring himself to try and defend his master. He kept his eyes down as both demon kings continued to scream at him, aware that this was as much about them venting their justified anger as it was about defending their territory. He pulled his own face into a grin of fear and submission, and, to the surprise of is former friends, crouched down to make himself seem even smaller.

I’m not going to challenge you. I’m not going to even try to get close to you. I am weak, and you are the ones with all the power.

The demon kings seemed a little mollified, and stopped their screaming, but began an intensive grooming session to calm each other down as he continued to crouch, his eyes averted. Suddenly, MDK’s hand lowered over his head, and while Sun Wukong couldn’t feel anything he realized she had started to groom him too. Sun Wukong wanted to cry at the gesture of potential forgiveness, but forced those feelings down. Grooming was as much about making alliances as it was about giving and receiving kind touches, and knowing the Lady Bone Demon was free the yaoguai kings would likely recruit every soldier they could get to protect their homes.

Snub-nosed piped up, still intent on grooming MDK’s neck. “One hand of my troop has collected the merry bunch you’ve been flying around with and are brining them over. Wanted me to let you know they’re all a little banged up but still functioning. Another is flying in medical help and some restraints for the shadow coward. We’ll figure out how you’ll pay me back when this is all over.”

Sun Wukong gave a barely perceptible nod. He’d sell himself into slavery if it meant Xiaotian and his loved ones would be safe. Snub-nosed sighed again, and abruptly ended the grooming session. “All right, stand up. Neither I nor MDK is going to bring your brother into our homes until we know he won’t be a threat and can’t be tracked by the skeleton shit, same goes for you and your lot. So we’ll camp here tonight, see what happens, and make plans for what to do starting tomorrow. And this is going to to be our plan, got it? Input and information are needed and appreciated, but you’re going to be in this fight as one of our soldiers, and not as a fellow king. You got it?”

Sun Wukong nodded again, and felt a sudden rush of gratitude. What had he ever been thinking, trying to come up with a way to stop the Demon Bone Lady on his own judgment? Every single one of the plans he had ever come up with across the course of his life had always, eventually, ended in disaster and agony and death. Maybe this endeavor would actually be a success, now that someone else was in the lead. He opened his mouth to give his assent, and the other monkeys screamed and leapt back, weapons drawn.

Sun Wukong looked down, and there was Macaque, gripping his leg, his entrails dragging behind him, the eye the monkey king had blinded so long ago weeping a dark blue fluid, the working eye blazing with a horrible cerulean light.

“You-”

“You really thought this was over, didn’t you? You really thought that would stop me?! It didn’t! It will never be over!! Not until you, or I, or both are dead!! Not until you, or I, or both are dead!! Not until, not until, not until-!! And then Sun Wukong’s own brother, reduced to another monstrous, suffering consequence of Sun Wukong’s failures and in the full thrall of the spirit sickness the Lady Bone Demon had infected him with, was left scrabbling and biting at his leg and howling between founts of his own blood for death and vengeance.

Yet another point of pain the monkey king could never make right.

He could, however, make it less wrong.

And thinking that, Sun Wukong had no hesitation in, after willing his powers of regeneration to their highest peak, driving his fingers into the socket of his left eye and scooping it right out of the socket. Bleeding profusely, he held his shrieking brother still and forced him to swallow the blazing ball of blood and jelly. He hugged his spirit-sickened twin close as he screamed and writhed as the rapidly dissolving eye blazed and burned the Lady Bone Demon’s poison into submission. Finally, after what seemed like hours but what was only seconds, Macaque shuddered and disgorged a horrible amount of a viscous blue liquid that seemed to glow and pulse like a heartbeat before it went dark and still. The shadow monkey slumped over, pain and exhaustion finally rendering him unconscious. Sun Wukong quickly moved to lay the other monkey down, his halved vision making it hard to tell where Macaque’s entrails were, and he needed to put those back, he had to fix this...and then there was Snub-nosed crouching next to him, carefully holding his brother’s guts in hands of both metal and flesh.

“Shit and sunsets, Sun Wukong. It’s never a dull moment with you, is it?”

...

In the end, the Snub-nosed Monkey King and Macaque Demon King had decided that all six sages of their original sworn brotherhood (they were alive? They were all alive? He was so happy he wanted to cry) should be be called into the spot they had dubbed “base camp” to decide what needed to be done. He was gratified to see the Demon Bull King and his family had somehow made their way safe and unpossessed back among the the other yaoguai, although besides his former dearest friend’s eyes widening when he heard the monkey king blame himself for the Lady Bone Demon’s freedom, he made no move to speak to him. Xi Qiaotian and his loved ones--allowed to move around the camp somewhat freely after the five other sages had circled and sniffed and grilled them before deeming them generally trustworthy (but not trustworthy enough to be party to their plans, especially the humans)--were also brought forward to give their testament before being dismissed as the six sages, their closest advisors, and their new soldier--himself--debated what to do.

Sun Wukong listened intently, not yet attempting to give advice but taking in everything that was being said, and observing in how his former close friends had changed. They had all been warlords right along with him, and while the centuries and new responsibilities had made them less prone to violence, the promise of a big battle with potential huge rewards (”this could very well be an opportunity to win ourselves great power in the territory she’s conquered. This could be the chance we’ve all wanted to come out of hiding!”) was something they all clearly found very tempting. But they had no reason now to like or trust him, and the risks were so many and so great. The spacious tent MDK had had set up as a meeting chamber filled with snarls and monkeyish shrieks as they debated. After hours of argumentation, Snub-nose’s wife--an elegant wolf yaoguai with pitch-black fur who had taken charge of the two pieces of the flame of Samadhi (”they will not touch it and will not hear of using it, Sun Wukong. The wounds are millennia old but the fear is still very fresh”)--steered the thought process in a new direction by proposing that instead of treating the Lady Bone Demon and her minions as an army to go against with their own, the kings focus should be on routes by which they might compel or coerce her into revealing the seal that had sapped the monkey king’s power by using Qi Xiaotian as a catalyst, and see what they could do to destroy it by magic to return the stolen strength to its original owner, who while unliked was on their side. Their armies could be on stand-by as needed, but with the major source of her strength thus eliminated the yaoguai kings should be able to overwhelm and imprison her once again. The tent was quiet as they all considered the possibility. It was, if they could pull it off, most definitely the path of fewest risks. But there was so much information they would have to gather, and every day the Lady Bone Demon was conquering more landscapes, expanding her slave army, growing in strength. Either way, they would have to make a decision soon and act quickly. How to gather the knowledge they needed while keeping her minions off her back?

For the first time, the monkey king spoke up. “I think...I think I can help there.”

Six sets of eyes glittered back at his one. “And how,” the Ni Lion King asked with fangs bared, “do you plan to contribute to this scheme, oh king without an army or a weapon? Will you take your fair share of the danger, or will you once again sit back and laugh as your allies fall?”

Sun Wukong smiled grimly. He had expected the Ni Lion King would never forgive him for having treated the capture of thousands of his feline soldiers during the first bout of heaven’s assault all those centuries ago as something to celebrate, since no monkeys had been taken (but another notch in the long list of all his many failures), but he could see a similar question was on the minds of every assembled sage: the peng king, missing both of his wings and having no good anchor for the prosthetics that might serve him in place of the ones that had been burned to ash; the scale flood king, his fanged jaws leaking a steady stream of water he had never been able to quell since his dragon’s pearl had been damaged in the war with heaven; ni lion king, who’s head was covered with a mane of implanted connector cables (having apparently gotten into the wonders of technology in a big way), while his original mane and the skin on his skull--as well as a good portion of his face--had been burned into a mess of scar tissue by the heavens’ fire; the snub-nosed monkey king, who now sported a metal arm and a metal leg to replace amputated limbs that had been lost in that conflict; and perhaps worst of all the macaque demon king, who had no outer wound, but who’s life was now marred by an eternal sorrow. Her daughter, he had horrified to learn, had been one of the many victims of the heavens’ fire, and she had been forced to take her child’s head to spare her the suffering of that eternal flame. It was a list of agony all due to the monkey king’s thoughtless decisions, and Sun Wukong, if he could still feel something, was sure that his eyes would still be stinging from the sleepless night of crying he had spent after being told what had happened to each.

So yes, not a single one of them hadn’t lost something important in the war he had started. And now he had to give what he could, he had to fight harder than he ever had before to keep them from suffering again from his failures.

In one fluid movement, Sun Wukong drew the kitchen knife he had kept close since this journey began and drove it into his chest. The assembled yaoguai leapt up with teeth bared, their initial growls and shrieks quickly turning into bellows of shock as the suddenly molten flesh around the wound seemed to eat the blade. His body done incorporating the metal, the deep cut closed seamlessly, and Sun Wukong let them all see that in spite of the blow he was intact. They all needed to see that even though he had been robbed of his initial divine-inspired power, his cultivation of inherent yaoguai strengths offered a path to being at least a significant thorn in the bone demon’s side. “It’s true I’ve lost just about everything,” he said after the noise died down, “and I’m but a cracked memory of what I once was. But the Lady Bone Demon is out there with my former power, and if she is not stopped soon she will topple you from your thrones and take you and your families as her slaves.” A sharp intake of breath all around. He knew it was a low blow, but honest for all that. He continued. “But I know that even with such grave threats, it’s hardly enough to forge a strong alliance or a strong plan, especially when the last time you all fought with me you all lost so much. So here’s what I have to offer: my regenerating body can take any number of mutilations and come out whole. My scorching insides prevent any possession. And my physical strength is still considerable. I can take any number of beatings, lead her and her minions on any sort of chase, all while you gather what you need and make what preparations you must. And because I feel nothing, even if she were to capture me there is no torture she could inflict to make me reveal your plans. I know...I know after everything that you have all suffered from my failures, I cannot by your ally. I believe, however, that I could serve well as your distraction.”

Sun Wukong looked around the assembled yaoguai. “But there is more I can offer. Last night I learned much of what you had lost when battling against heaven. I want to fix what I can. And so...” Sun Wukong swallowed, his mind screaming at him not to do this, but he knew what he had to give up, “...and so I want to give you all my tail.”

For a minute the six king’s eyes went wide, but then turned contemplative and, Sun Wukong thought, a little eager.

“If I follow your line of thinking correctly...” the peng king began, the talons on his feet making light scraping sounds as they gouged into the ground, as if grasping prey, “you want to divide the true flesh of your tail among us for our benefit. The tendons can be used as glue to repair a dragon’s pearl, the fur and skin as a graft to help heal burn scars, the meat consumed to help restore lost strength, and the vertebrae...” his voice was strained with desperate hope, “the vertebrae as a anchor for prosthetic wings.”

Sun Wukong smiled, and while he was scared, it was genuine. “Got it in one, feathers.” The peng king looked surprised at the use of the old nickname, but he did offer his own small smile in return.

The scale flood king coughed up a sudden fount of water before he spoke next.

“If the stone monkey is willing to do these things, then I will agree to this course of action. But let us hurry! The skeleton monster grows stronger with every passing second, and I want my pearl intact before we beat her down.” He seemed to be the voice of the room, and one king after another agreed to the proposed course. With every voice of assent, Sun Wukong felt his heart speed up, fearing what was to come but knowing it was needed. He focused on his breathing, drawing up the techniques of meditation he had learned so long ago.

This is good, this is necessary, this is needed...he repeated it like a mantra, even as Snub-nosed and MDK approached him slowly, almost apologetically, followed by a group of yaoguai that they assured him were the best surgeons in their troops.

He thanked them both, and told the assembled team that anesthesia would be unnecessary. Yet they all insisted on it, and he supposed it would be good to test out if he needed to bring a gas mask on his endeavor to play the distraction. He followed the medical team, who were now accompanied by the Lion Ni King, the Scale Flood King, and the Peng King along with all their attendants, out over into the makeshift medical tent. The collection of yaoguai passed by Qi Xiaotian and his loved ones who were all anxiously waiting outside the door and in front of a hand of implacable guards, and who immediately started a barrage of frantic questions when they saw the monkey king emerge on what was going on and where was he going and what had happened to his eye before a cluster of MDK’s attendants smoothly separated themselves from the group aimed at the medical tent and set to work assuring them that they were safe and would be safe and that all was well, but not, Sn Wukong noted, telling them what was going to happen. Sun Wukong didn’t allow himself the pause that might lead him to start second guessing himself, not even when he heard Xiaotian’s teary voice try to raise itself above the din and ask him to wait, not even when inside the medical tent he passed by a still unconscious Macaque who had been put, he had been told, into a medically induced coma, and who the monkey king would have assumed dead if not for the cluster of steadily beeping monitors that surrounded his twin. He lay down on his stomach on the bed he was ushered to, and found himself, after listening at length to the tall monkey yaoguai that Sun Wukong had been introduced to as the head surgeon and MDK’s one surviving child on how the surgery was to work even with the monkey king’s always-advancing healing, somewhat surprised that the anesthesia brought in was actually working, at least while it was continuously supplied. MDK was gently holding one of his hands, Snub-nosed the other, and he supposed it would have been comforting if he wasn’t convinced it was to make sure he didn’t try to run off. Then the head surgeon soothingly talked him into unconsciousness.

When he awoke, the fact that he felt nothing meant he only realized his tail was gone when he was informed that the removal had been a success. He was also told that the other three kings were almost done with their own surgeries, and that the Ni Lion King had provided for his job as a distraction a highly advanced video camera that had been guised as his missing eye, if he would be willing to have it grafted into his now empty socket. Next to it on the tray the head surgeon carefully held was a small inner earpiece, and together these technologies would, the monkey king was told, allow them to monitor his progress and give advice and instruction in his upcoming encounters with the Lady Bone Demon. Sun Wukong agreed to this too, and didn’t even have to be put under again as the head surgeon carefully placed the camera eye into his empty socket and delicately grafted it firmly in place. It wasn’t long before Sun Wukong was able to stand up again. He was more than glad he had given up what he had, but still found it very disorienting, to even try walking around without the balance and sight he had possessed his entire life. But Sun Wukong had always been a quick study, and after critically watching him first walk and then run, the head surgeon said he should be generally back to full mobility in around three days. This was all good news. And what was even better was when Sun Wukong heard a bird’s scream of joy and, running in stumbling steps outside the tent, watched the peng king fly with his own new wings for what had been the first time in centuries, even when he shifted into his gargantuan alternative form. Sun Wukong was next delighted to see the lion ni king step outside the medical tent touching his face in wonder, as if he himself couldn’t believe that there could ever have been fur and feeling on the once-seared portions of his face again. And finally the scale flood king slithered out and wrapped around Sun Wukong in his version of a hug, grumbling in a voice mostly free of water that while the monkey king was a stinky ape, he was grateful he always kept his word. It had been good, it had been right, it had been necessary, and while Sun Wukong knew he would never be able to completely make up for the damage his actions had caused, at least when it came to the six kings he had helped make it less terrible than before.

It was because of this that he was once again left in a state of confusion when he got back to Qi Xiaotian and his loved ones to let them see everything was okay, and they had started exclaiming in angry tones about what he had lost, even though, as he told them time and time again, he had given it up freely. It had, after all, been owed.

---

Preparations for confronting Lady Bone Demon were going much more smoothly and much more quickly than he would have accomplished alone or along with only Qi Xiaotian’s family, the six kings seeming invigorated by the pieces of his body now embedded in their own. At times it almost felt like the good (bad) old days, when they had spent their immortality going over battle plans and strategies on how to make their mountain caves safe from every harm, how to respond in this or that battle situation...

How to wipe out entire human armies and come back in triumph with the spoils of metal and treasure and meat.

But back to the now. Sun Wukong’s endless string of ill fortune worried him so much, as if it would taint this endeavor too. But shockingly enough, things started to go as they intended. Spies armed with the information Xiaotian’s crew provided and bearing coats of mail engraved with spells of invisibility and against possession were able to come back unpossessed and with reams of more useful details, information was gathered and traps were set smoothly to break the seal when everything would be in place, and best of all, as Sun Wukong saw it, he was providing a very useful distraction indeed, all while Xiaotian and his crew got to remain safe at base camp. As the six kings went about their secret endeavors, Sun Wukong made himself as much a thorn in the side of the Lady Bone Demon as he could all while the Lady Bone Demon turned her focus to him and him alone. It had been a very clever plan of MDK’s to have Qi Xiaotian, his family, and Macaque guised with a powerful simulacra of a death aura, completing the picture with shallow and empty graves in the spot they had all “died,” all so that Sun Wukong could stumble about in the Lady Bone Demon’s sight playing the sobbing and remorseful but still selfish fool who had, for all that he had completely lost to her, was running once again from the consequences of his choices and lashing out like a wild cornered beast. Still, her attention and malice were so great that Sun Wukong had to wonder if her influence on Macaque had gone both ways, so that she was now infected with some thread of the obsessive rage that had held his brother in its thrall for centuries. Individual assassins, small hordes, and then entire armies of enscorcelled beings, humans and yaoguai both, went after him and him alone. And this was all to the good. While he led these beings on a convoluted chase, the six kings and their allies were able to sneak around unmolested to gather what they needed. Even when the bone demon’s ghostly armies actually caught him, they could do less and less against him every time. His molten core stopped any attempt at possession from laying him low. Bone, stone, and steel alike shattered on his hide. He grew back arms, legs, even had to reattach his head on one occasion, until his body started to heal itself so rapidly and so automatically that wounds--which fewer and fewer weapons were able to inflict-- disappeared almost as quickly as they were made. His strength, already significant, became more monstrous still. And he could listen to the Lady Bone Demon mock him through her soldiers all she liked for being responsible for the deaths of those who had trusted him. He wept, he raged, and all the time listened to the Lion Ni King’s analytical voice as he was instructed to move from one place to another, keeping their enemy unaware of the trap being carefully laid all around her. Finally, after five days, he was told to stop at particular coordinates and act exhausted, something he hadn’t felt now for weeks.

Sun Wukong collapsed exactly where he had been instructed, and allowed crocodile tears to fall from his eyes as an army of enthralled soldiers, and then finally the Lady Bone Demon herself, perched smugly on top of her giant mech, advanced into view. The cold power of her telekinesis wrapped around his body and brought him face to face with this hated enemy, although it wasn’t enough to penetrate his core and make his mind susceptible to her manipulation. He could see that that didn’t stop her from believing she had now completely won.

“You know, stinking ape, I had believed destiny would assure your worthless successor would have destroyed himself with the flame you so desperately sought, but it is a nice bonus that it was your own brother’s malice, your old friend’s hatred, and your own stupidity that got him killed.”

Sun Wukong allowed himself a shuddering, pain-laden breath. The Lady Bone Demon smiled wider, gloating in her victory.

“To think, all it took to lay the Great Sage Equal to Heaven low was to just pump his twin full of the hate that was already there and point him in the right direction. You really couldn’t help but make enemies of everyone you have every loved, could you? And what a show! It truly was a delight to see your once-loved brother attack you with such ferocity, your former friends scream at you with such vehemence, and to see,” she continued with a fang-filled grin, “your beloved student beat you to a bloody pulp.”

Sun Wukong started, feeling a trickle of uncertainty, but he was determined to keep up appearances. They have as much to lose as I do, he reminded himself. They would not abandon me like this at such a critical juncture. Still, he let out a genuine sob. The Lady Bone Demon seemed to relish in it. “Oh yes, I was an influence in his mind riiiight up to his death. It was so easy to encourage that rage. He hated you so much, and rightfully so. And it seems the same was true of your former friends, wasn’t it? To think they would be the ones to land the final blow on that worthless little mortal! And then they threw you out into this cold, cold world all alone. They all hated you. Of course they would never work with you. And now you are going to die, despised by everyone you have ever loved. But don’t worry.” She levitated his stone-covered staff above his head, preparing it for a final blow. “You’ll all soon get a chance to try and reconcile in hell.”

The staff swung down.

Sun Wukong felt nothing but the cold shock at the realization he had been betrayed.

And then a sudden, vicious, and blade-filled storm of wind shrieked between them, sending the staff spinning far away and slicing the rocks off of it, freeing it from the bone yaoguai’s influence. The Lady Bone Demon had no time to give anything but a startled gasp before a colossal bird, the peng king himself, abruptly bore down on them from the clouds above. With talons sheathed in enchanted metal, he grasped the bone mech tightly, and with a mighty thrust of his wings lifted the entire lot of them far into the sky. Sun Wukong was abruptly dropped, but then found himself caught and borne aloft by MDK, who was well protected in heavily enchanted amor and riding a kite shaped like their gargantuan feathered comrade. “Protect the peng king!” he heard her cry over the howl of wind, and then she threw him up towards his enemy. And then, as he had been wanting to do for weeks, Sun Wukong punched the Lady Bone Demon right in the face.

...

They had flown for but a minute, but had gone so fast and so far above the clouds that Sun Wukong had no idea where they were headed. The entire time he and MDK had been keeping the Lady Bone Demon busy and off balance, the two monkeys leaping and flying around her, striking where they could and moving so fast that she wasn’t able to keep her sight on more than one of them at a time. Finally MDK let out squeal whose meaning only Sun Wukong could understand, and he threw himself off the mech and onto MDK’s kite as the peng king suddenly opened his talons. He flashed both his fangs and his middle fingers at the Lady Bone Demon’s shocked, outraged, bloody, and now uncertain face as she and her giant mech were dropped, and fell crashing to a desert floor, a meteor strike of sand erupting around them. But it swiftly clambered upright, all but completely undamaged. The Lady Bone Demon smoothed out her somewhat tattered hanfu and shot the two monkeys, who had flown down to her level, a hate-filled glare. Her eyes started to gleam with cold death magic, but then she gave a pain-filled gasp as the scale flood king and a dragon that Sun Wukong realized was the true form of Xiaojiao barreled into her from behind, knocking the mech down once again. Roaring, the scale flood king vomited forth a very river of water over the limbs of the bone mech, which froze as it hit. Xiaojiao, for her own part, blasted a concentrated beam of light onto the back of the mech, her serpentine neck moving back and forth, and Sun Wukong realized she was engraving something into the mechs very core. Abruptly the two dragons were knocked back by a telekinetic blast, the mech’s limbs groaning as they exerted themselves, and broke free of the ice. But the dragons had done their work well, and the seal that had stolen the monkey king’s powers was projected from the bone demon’s mech, fully exposed and locked in place.

“Woooowwww...this lady must have REALLY hated you to put so much effort into a binding seal, yeah?”

MDK and Sun Wukong turned. They were greeted by the sights of the Snub-nosed monkey king and Lion Ni King, both of them heavily armored, Snub-nosed bristling with projectile weaponry, Lion Ni, who was wearing his quadruped form, sparking with powerful magic.

“You two stand by as we get this seal sorted. You’ll be needed soon enough!” With that, Snub-nosed aimed what looked like a full-sized cannon at the seal. Lion Ni extended numerous cords of his mane forward and, embedding them into the cannon, the two worked in tandem to send a magic-laden sphere into the center of the seal. Sun Wukong held his breath, and then felt rather than heard the seal start to crack. the Lady Bone Demon screamed in rage, and shielding the seal with her mech’s arms directed it to charge right at them. Snub-nosed hopped on Lion Ni’s back, screaming “Incoming!” before she switched over to a grenade launcher and started to fire at the advancing mech, aiming right at the joints of its legs and causing it to stumble as the yaoguai swiftly scattered.

Sun Wukong realized how clever his former friends had been to host this battle here. Between attacking the mech’s joints and with the soft sand ensuring that the bone mech’s spiked legs would sink deeply into the land wherever they hit, it almost seemed to be becoming more trouble than it was worth to keep the mech upright and moving.

The Lady Bone Demon seemed to have reached the same conclusion, and kept the mech still as she unleashed barrages of bullets, lasers, and bombs from its interior, while she herself unleashed one telekinetic blast after another. Yet she was compelled to expose the seal once again when the demon bull king, fully restored to his former strength and taking on his true form of a gargantuan white bull, slammed into the back of the mech and forced its arms to go askew. Snub-nosed and Ni Lion took another shot that struck true, and the seal cracked further. The two dragons were back up, and from there it was a raging battle as the assembled yaoguai kings tried to get the seal completely exposed once again while the Lady Bone Demon attempted to keep it covered while trying to rain death on them all. MDK grabbed Sun Wukong, and together they flew but a short distance away until she deposited him in the midst of what he realized was a giant yaouguai army. He guessed that they were there to be part of “Plan B,” should the six kings fail. “Wait here until your strength is restored and seal is gone. Then hit her with everything you’ve got. We’ll do the same.” She leapt on her kite and swiftly flew off to lend her support to her sworn brothers.

Sun Wukong felt almost giddy at the thought that this was working, he was going to be part of a battle that could actually be won, and then spotted Red Boy, who was watching the ongoing brawl with concern, even though his admiration for his father was clearly shining through. Sun Wukong jogged up to him.

“Where’s Qi Xiaotian?”

Red Boy flicked his attention to him, and then back to the battle before them, hissing in delight as his father’s horns embedded themselves into one of the bone mech’s arms before he gave an almighty wrench of his neck and tore that limb from it socket.

“Never fear, primate. The noodle boy is safely tucked away back at base camp, along with the pig and the fish and even all three pieces of the flame. Don’t worry your monkey head about him or anything else. She couldn’t possibly get her hands on any more power now, and my father, the great Demon Bull King, will crush her under his hoo-!!”

Sun Wukong lifted his former best friend’s son up by his jacket, and shook him roughly.

“What do you mean all three pieces of the flame!?!?!”

Red Boy looked intimidated for a second, but his features soon settle back into a sneer.

“I mean we collected the last piece of the flame! It’s an important part of Plan F, it it had come to that! But this is working perfectly, so let me go this instant you flea-bitten prim-!!”

Sun Wukong wasn’t listening as Red Boy continued to yell at him. The earlier words of the Lady Bone roared in his head.

“ I was an influence in his mind...”

“that worthless little mortal...”

“I had believed destiny would assure your worthless successor would have destroyed himself with the flame you so desperately sought...”

“destroyed himself with the flame...”

He was going to try to use the flame of Samadhi, and be destroyed in the process.

Sun Wukong tightened his grip on Red Boy, despite the prince’s yells of protest.

“You have to take me to base camp.”

“What?! But the seal is almost shattered! You have to stay here and help my father win! Are you seriously planning to run away now?! You really do just abandon everyone right when things get tough you stinking ap-!

“DO YOU WANT YOUR FATHER TO DIE?!?! TAKE ME TO BASE CAMP NOW!!!”

Red Boy gave a gasp of fear, but the desperation in Sun Wukong’s eyes seemed to have convinced him that something was afoot. He scowled fiercely.

“Fine! But you’re the only one at fault if this goes wrong!” And with that he grabbed the monkey king’s arms, whisking them both away in a whirl of flame.

Sun Wukong just hoped it wasn’t too late.

...

As soon as they arrived, Sun Wukong had demanded Red Boy point out where the flame was kept before sprinting towards it, leaving the confused and frustrated prince in his wake. He burst into the tent, and found in a mass of confusion as yaoguai soldiers ran back and forth. He grabbed one as they passed.

“What is it?! What’s going on?!

The soldier, one of the lion types, looked scared.

“Monkey King! Someone has somehow stolen all three pieces of the flame of Samadhi! We just discovered the theft and are scouring the camp for the thief-”

Sun Wukong raced out of the tent, trying to get frantic mind into a state of calm. He had a good idea of who was behind it, and needed to find him before...

He refused to finish the thought.

The monkey king could feel the seal cracking, could feel tendrils of his power leaking through, and so this time had less trouble in calling up his far seeing eyes. Telling his racing heart to calm down, he started a methodical search.

There.

In a corner of the camp, hidden behind a row of water barrels, Xiaotian was slowly putting together the pieces of the flame’s source, whispering something over them that was making them fuse back together. he could almost imagine the Lady Bone Demon, looking frantic as his sworn brothers hammered away at her body, her focus torn almost unbearably between two points of control, but inwardly gloating that, with MDK’s full magical focus on her and the facade of Xiaotian’s death thus lifted, she now had her ace in the hole. The monkey king sprinted as fast as he could towards the kid he had put in so much harms’ way, skidding to a halt as Xiaotian, his eyes glazed over with a horrible blue film, whispered that he could finally be useful, and activated the flame.

There was no time left to think. Sun Wukong rushed forward and grabbed the rapidly awakening flame from his former student’s unresisting hands, and swallowed it down into his immortal stone flesh.

...

He was burning.

He was burning but his flesh was restoring itself as quickly as it could be destroyed, and there was Qi Xiaotian looking at him with absolute horror but was once again free from the Lady Bone Demon’s grasp, whole and undamaged, so it was okay. His organs were aflame and he was in so much pain, but he still let out a monkey’s shriek of delight when he felt that the plan he had put together with his former yaoguai friends had worked perfectly. Their combined intelligence, strength, and magical prowess had shattered the seal that had allowed that sneering witch to steal the monkey king’s power, and Sun Wukong was burning, but he was still careful to ensure all that cursed strength flowed back into him, with not a drop of it worming its way back to Xiaotian (you and your power hurt him so much you bad monkey don’t you dare hurt him again!).

From there, it had been a simple matter, even with the Flame of Samadhi raging in his body, to summon back his somersault cloud and fly as fast he could back to the ongoing battle. As he flew, he forced his burning body to shift and change, forced it to grow colossal in size and for two other heads to sprout from his neck. When he burst onto the battlefield, he was as tall as he had been when he had caused havoc in heaven, glaring around himself with five eyes instead of one, and with his true vision restored he got to witness first hand the look of terror on the Lady Bone Demon’s face as she realized that destiny was now spinning in a direction she had never believed possible.

Sun Wukong saw her for the monster she had always been, how even now she was using a little human girl as her physical host. By a massive effort, he forced his two arms to split into six--one pair composed of his stone skin, another of his magma muscle, and a third still to his very spirit, and leapt upon the bone mech, shoving his spirit’s hands through the Lady Bone Demon and separating her in one blow from her host. The little girl tumbled like a leaf through the air, only to be caught by Demon Bull King, who had at some pointed shifted back to his purple, bipedal form. Left with no choice--for every nearby living sentient being was well charmed against possession--the Lady Bone Demon, a spirit once again, sunk into her mech. Sun Wukong gripped her with his six arms, and laughed in her face, spraying magma, over what now felt like feeble blows as she hit him with everything her mech could give.

Even though he was undergoing the torture of burning alive, it had been in this form that he had challenged all of heaven. And between the two foes, robbed of his power the Lady Bone Demon didn’t slightly compare to the divine army whose equal he had been.

Sun Wukong watched her with five eyes from his three heads, watched her realize what was going to happen for all her talk about destiny in her favor as he grabbed her stolen steel frame, and summoned a ferocious and lightning filled somersault cloud to hurl them both into the sky, where she couldn’t get her bearings. And up there, where no one but the two of them could be hurt, he took taken a vicious pleasure in the outraged cries and then screams of pain as he tore the Lady Bone Demon to pieces, setting each one alight with the Flame of Samadhi that now coursed in every nerve. For all his preparation, all his work to ensure that he would feel nothing, the pain was horrible. But he could take it. He could take anything, because it was this that let him quickly annihilate the monster who had robbed so many of so much.

In the end, and in spite all she had done, she pleaded for her life. And that had made burning her completely out of existence all the more satisfying.

When she had been rendered into ash, Sun Wukong glanced down. So many, so many loved faces were staring up at him, wearing every expression from amazement to sheer horror. But they were safe, they were all safe. He was so happy he could have wept. And he wished so much he could join them and be a happy family with these loved ones, just like he once was all those centuries ago. And yet...

No. You started this, you monster, and you don’t dare to not see this through.

...

He was flying as fast as he could without causing any more damage, the memory of realizing that his havoc in heaven had meant deadly fire on Earth compelling him to fly higher and higher where the fire in his body couldn’t hurt anyone until he was looking down on the planet. From that vantage point Sun Wukong could decide on his next move, and made the appropriate adjustments before hurtling himself towards one fo the world’s oceans. But he slowed again as he entered the Earth’s atmosphere, feeling himself weakening and not wanting to cause a tsunami. He was flying so fast, and then he was falling, and then he crashed into sand that melted into glass as he hit it. Sun Wukong’s three mouths let out a bellow of frustration that quickly shifted into an agonized gurgle, and then he was vomiting the molten rock of what felt like every organ his chest cavity possessed. But the fire still burned tucked safe away in his immortal stone flesh, and his body continued to remorselessly repair itself even as more and more magma gushed from his mouths until he was laying in a pool of it. He wanted to rest. He wanted the hurt to stop. But it could not. He had to see this through.

Sun Wukong stood back up on shaking legs, and his misery was but compounded when his far seeing eyes revealed that for much as Xiaotian rightfully despised him, he was now flying in the airship they had started this journey with at top speed right for him, accompanied by Xiaojiao, Redy Boy, his father figures and Sandy, his tear-stained face set with determination and concern. Xioatian was as good as Sun Wukong was bad. He should have known that even after everything kid would try to save him, even if it meant--he vomited up another geyser of molten rock--he was putting himself in mortal danger.

Every nerve screaming at him, feeling like he was being split into pieces, Sun Wukong summoned that monstrous somersault cloud once again and continued on his last route. He continued to fly now over the ocean, going further and further from shore, over deeper and deeper water. And as he did so, he restored the telepathic bond between himself and the kind human he had once hoped to make his successor, fully aware now that there could never be any such thing, not if Xiaotian, not is his loved ones, were to ever find happiness.

“Qi Xiaotian, please stop!!”

Xiaotian started in shock, his eyes gushing fresh tears at the sight of his former mentor.

“Monkey King! We’re coming to help you! Hold on a little longer! Red things he might be able to draw the flame out of your body and and maybe, and maybe--”

“Xiaotian, no! It’s too dangerous, and it’s too late. I’m begging you, turn back.”

Xiaotian looked as if he had been slapped, and then just looked scared and desperate, because Xiaotian was good and wanted to save everyone, even someone he entirely loathed. “N...No! We’re going to save you! We...We have to save you! You’re going to be okay! You’re going to be my mentor again! And I’ll be the new monkey king while you enjoy your retirement! It’s okay! It’s what I want! I promise it’s what I want!”

Sun Wukong grimaced at the lie. At the very end, at least, they needed to be honest. “No, you don’t. Because you’ve seen what I truly am and what my life is. You know that being the monkey king means that for all your great power and no matter what you do, you will fail in catastrophic ways. Everyone you have ever loved will either die or grow to despise you. And it will be all your own fault.”

“ So turn back. You...you all still have good lives with nice thing in them, friends and family who love you so, so much. And I’m just getting what comes to all monsters.”

“This is exactly what I deserve.”

And then Xiaotian, too kind for his own good, caused himself no small amount of bad emotions as he tried bargaining, tried pleading, and finally screamed that if Sun Wukong went through with his plan to rid the world of the Flame of Samadhi and his own cursed life, he would never forgive him. That last part hurt. It hurt so much. The possibility of forgiveness was so precious, especially when it came from one you loved. And yet here, since honestly was important...

“Oh, Xiaotian...neither you nor anyone else was ever going to forgive me either way.”

He could tell he was correct. The expression on Xiaotian’s face could mean nothing else.

Sun Wukong quickly went on. He was up to his torso in the ocean now. His time left was so, so short. He had to spend it well.

“It’s okay Xiaotian. This is a good thing. This fight between me and the bone witch? It’s just monsters destroying each other. And I’ve made binding arrangements with all six of my former friends. They’ll make sure that you’re never hurt again. And I know you have no reason to believe me, but I promise that from here on out I won’t be a problem. I promise, I promise, words are worthless but I promise.”

“So please...forget I ever existed, and be happy.”

It was there the connection between them cut in a final flash of golden sparks. He no longer had the strength to maintain it. Sun Wukong was up to his neck in freezing water and sinking rapidly into the ocean’s depths. Already he could feel the force of the flame diminishing, even if only a little. He hoped his final numbness would come soon.

He knew he didn’t deserve to, but in his last seconds in sunshine Sun Wukong allowed himself one last use of his far-seeing eyes, one last look at those he loved. Qi Xiaotian, up in the airship with Xiaojiao and Red Boy and Sandy and his fathers, standing perfectly still but surrounded by those that he loved; the little ones of the Six Sage’s war camps, running around in what looked like a panic, but he could already tell his former friends were organizing relief efforts, finding a way to help the Lady Bone Demon’s victims, making everything better. And the six sages themselves, their eyes wide with shock but standing tall, undamaged, giving effective commands like the great leaders they were. They were all alive. They were all healthy. They were all safe. He would never be able to hurt them again. They were all finally safe.

As Sun Wukong sank down to where there would never be anything again but darkness and loneliness and agony until he finally became as unfeeling as the stone he had always been, he clung to the comfort that he had, at long last, done the right thing.

#blood #violence #body horror #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk fic #lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king

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violetsoju · 4 years ago

Text

page 30彡★

kageyama tobio · fluff · 3.2k

a/n: came up w this idea based on a tiktok vid of this trend that randomly popped up on my feed (which i can't find anymore T_T) do let me know if you enjoyed it! ❤️

“Hey, Tobio.”

The mop of raven hair doesn’t look up to you, eyes fixated on the jiggly onsen tamago on top of the curry tonkatsu.

“There’s this new trend going on.”

He hums in response, fingers gripping onto a pair of wooden chopsticks, manoeuvring the fragile soft lump towards the spoon. Just a few more steps till being cradled snugly in the deep end of the cool ceramic spoon.

“And we’re gonna learn the moves and film it right here after this.”

His fingers twitch. One of the long pointy chopsticks loses its cool and stabs the tamago right in the core, streaks of yellow bleeding across the crisp golden brown tonkatsu. Its counterpart desperately tries to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, but too much yolk has been lost, and more jabs were made in the frantic rescue mission. Not even the string of ‘shit’ muttered could save the day. So long, dear onsen tamago.

You’re finally met with piercing blue eyes glaring at you.

“No. And look at what you did to my onsen tamago.”

“You should’ve scooped it up with your spoon instead of pushing it with your chopsticks. Common sense much?” You thank the waitress for the hot steaming tempura udon. “Plus, you’re supposed to break the yolk and coat the luscious essence over your rice, unless you’re a freak and eat it in one go.”

Kageyama’s scowl softens when a piece of fried tempura lands in his bowl in exchange for a piece of tonkatsu. A glint of delight gleams in the two pair of eyes at the first bite of delicious food, taste buds tingling in satisfaction.

It’s a rainy Wednesday night. And rainy nights call for warm comfort food to make up for the gloomy wet weather brought by the pitter patter parade of fat rain droplets. So after a spontaneous text message, here you are, with an old close friend of yours, inside a small cosy shop hidden in an alleyway without any prior arrangements.

“And let me repeat myself. I’m not going to do any dumb dance trends with you again.” Kageyama restates his point firmly.

“Come on, you had so much fun the last time! Even Tsukki sent a good job sticker in the group chat.” You reason.

“You mean he enjoyed seeing me almost tripping over my feet.”

“That was the highlight, to be honest.”

He smacks your chopsticks away with his at your attempt to snag another piece of tonkatsu, not giving in into your pout.

“Anyway, I was just kidding. You’re in luck this time because it’s not a dance trend.”

Kageyama raises an eyebrow at you suspiciously, tilting his head to ask you to continue on.

“This time it’s a trend where you grab your nearest book, turn to page 30, and the first sentence will describe your love life. Interesting, isn’t it?”

“Just when I thought you’ve outgrown these ridiculous nonsenses.”

“Says the one who still insists on drinking a box of strawberry milk before matches.” You jab your chopsticks towards his direction accusingly.

“That’s different because it actually works. And it’s good.” He counterattacks by returning your gesture.

“I hate to say this but, point taken.”

He triumphantly snickers as you sigh in defeat.

“Aren’t you curious on how my love life is described?” You question, blowing off the steam from your spoon full of udon.

Kageyama chomps on another piece of pork cutlet, unamused at your question. “If you’re generous enough to share, I’d be honoured.”

“‘He smiles’”

“What?”

“That’s the first sentence on my page 30. ‘He smiles’.” You reply matter-of-factly, taking a sip of your hot green tea.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” His brows knit in confusion, hands momentarily forgetting the spoonful of curry rice in hand.

“Use your imagination, Tobio. Awaken your romantic cells.” You gesture with your hands dramatically, earning a deadpan look from the boy seated across you.

“Does it mean whoever’s smiling is the love of your life? Or someone who’s always smiling?” Kageyama rests his cheek against his left knuckle, trying to connect the dots together.

“Well-“

“Wait a minute! Don’t tell me it’s Suga-san. Because if it is, I won’t allow it because Suga-san is way too good for you.”

He yelps as you not-so-accidentally dip your chopsticks stained with broth into his green tea.

“Shush, we both know how much Suga-san adores me. And everyone else.” You smugly take another bite of your fried tempura as he frowns in disgust after drinking the now broth infused green tea.

“I guess it’s feeling of love at the sight of his smile? Like feeling all warm and fuzzy seeing him smile.”

“Is there someone who makes you feel that way with their smile?”

You swirl the udon with your chopsticks mindlessly for a moment. “Maybe there is.”

You look up to the pair of blue eyes staring back at you, holding the intense gaze firmly, neither side backing down to break the tension.

“Do I know him?” Kageyama falters, a hint of anxiousness cracks in his voice.

“Since when were you so interested in my love life?” You laugh awkwardly, hoping to conceal your nervousness.

Despite the surrounding bustling chatter, the world suddenly falls painstakingly silent, with the irregular beats of two young hearts thumping deafeningly and out of rhythm.

The raven-haired boy succumbs first, looking back down to his half empty bowl. You continue swirling your bowl of udon, mentally slapping yourself at your answer and cracking your head to come up with something to save the mood.

“Well, I could help to scan him for you, if you want. Boys know boys better after all,”

You snap back up to look at the boy seated across you, eyes not meeting yours. This is a surprise.

“Plus, you can save the tears and snot to yourself because I might not be free to attend to your midnight crying sessions. If it really happens.”

A surge of warmth radiates throughout your body at his words. Definitely not from the hot bowl of udon.

Kageyama still has his eyes on the bowl before him, looking anywhere else but you. He tries to keep himself busy by scooping more rice, groaning as he further destroys the onsen tamago, unaware of the faint blush painting his cheeks. Definitely not from the hot bowl of curry, too.

“Don’t worry, he isn’t a jerk. I’m sure you’ll like him too.” You chuckle, adjusting your chopsticks to pick up more udon.

Oh, Kageyama Tobio, what exactly should I do with you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

Scroll. Refresh. Switch apps. Repeat. Sigh.

You’ve been stuck in this constant loop for the past hour. Instead of getting much needed sleep for the next day, you subject yourself to the chains of the device held in your hand, despite the drooping eyelids and strained arm muscles.

What’s so fascinating about social media anyway? If it’s not friends or random acquaintances posting sinful food pics of ootds, it’d be someone ranting about either their work or love life, or memes you’ve already seen before. Sometimes you wonder if you’ve been casted a spell by social media.

Crying out a yelp as the gadget lands right in your face at the slip of your hands, you massage your nose bridge and forehead from the impact, grimacing in pain. It’s not easy being a slave to social media, huh.

Tossing your phone to the side, you roll over to lie flat on your back, sprawled like a star fish on your bed. A long sigh escapes your lips, eyes staring blankly at the bare celling above. Maybe you should really call it a day.

A beep from your phone tells you otherwise.

Tobio [23:17]

I did it. You owe me one box of strawberry milk.

[23:18]

IMG_20210402_961222

You immediately plop yourself up to sit cross-legged on your bed, tapping on the notification to open the message. As expected of Kageyama Tobio, it was a full-page picture of a book, with a small number 30 on the top left-hand corner. But unexpectedly of Kageyama Tobio too, the page wasn’t from those volleyball books or magazines stacked in the corner of his room. Looks like the mini ramble session you gave him on the way to the metro station worked.

“I know volleyball is the love of your life too, but we’re talking about your actual love life here! So no volleyball books or magazines, go rummage Miwa-san’s book shelf for one random romance novel. Just one. She’ll thank me for taking care of your love life.”

Sliding both your thumbs outwards on the screen to zoom in, your lips press together to form an ‘o’, brows arching in fascination at the first sentence.

She knows.

Interesting.

Your fingers dance across the screen swiftly.

me [23:20]

Ohhh interesting. See, it’s exciting, isn’t it?

Tobio [23:21]

I guess so

me [23:22]

Do you think it describes your love life well?

To actually imagine Kageyama Tobio having something that he loves as much as volleyball is, an odd and foreign feeling.

Tobio [23:24]

I’m not sure tbh

me [23:25]

Well spill the tea so I can help you analyse it

Tobio [23:25]

You swear you would throw punches at him if he was beside you now.

me [23:26]

Tsk tsk, so who’s the girl you’ve been hiding from me

Tobio [23:27]

Since when were you interested in my love life?

The use of your own words against you has you clicking your tongue in amusement.

You were contemplating between a civil or sarcastic remark when a new message bubble pops up.

Tobio [23:29]

But do you think she knows?

me [23:30]

About what?

Tobio [23:31]

Nvm, forget what I said

Seriously? This conversation is by no means, ending like this. You tap on the video icon on the right-hand corner of the screen hastily.

It takes a few rings for the familiar face to appear on screen, face a little too close to the camera, brows furrowed, lips pursed.

“What the heck, do you know what time it is?” Kageyama huffs in annoyance, running his fingers through his dishevelled black hair.

“Says the one who sent me such juicy information at this hour.” You bend your legs up, resting your hand on your knees for a better angle.

He throws his head back exasperatedly, muttering something inaudible along the static noise from the speakers, resting his head on a wooden frame you recognise. He still hasn’t changed his bed that he has long outgrown, complaining about soreness in his legs and arms that dangle off the edge every night.

“How do you expect me to go to bed with you hanging me like this? You have the worst timing ever.” You raise your hands in protest.

Kageyama buries half of his face in his palm. “I shouldn’t have listened to you.”

“But you get a box of strawberry milk from this! It’s worth it.” You gesture a finger gun to him knowingly.

He moves two fingers away from his face, peeking to see you through the screen like a child. Heaving a long, heavy sigh, he shifts his weight to sit up properly, half of his face still cradled in his palm.

“So, ‘she knows’, huh. Back to your question. What do you think she knows?” A tinge of excitement and fear bubble up your throat.

Kageyama avoids your gaze, looking to the side. “Well, I mean, about my, er- my feelings, I guess?”

“You mean your heart.”

The sentence has his eyes back on you, vivid blue eyes clouded by the shadows of dimly lit room.

“Yeah, uhm, well, I guess.” His voice trails off.

“Well, have you told her before?” You keep your voice steady.

“No, of course.” His words come out like a whisper.

“Then how is she going to know without any words or actions?” It comes out like a blunt statement, but somewhere deep down, a wave of relief washes over you.

“But I’m always there for her. Whenever she needs me, wherever she is, I try my best to be there for her,” Passionate flames ignite across the vast blue ocean. “I know something is on her mind when she bites the insides of her cheeks, when she flicks the tip of her thumb with her index finger constantly, or when she plays with the piercings on her ears. I’m not one with words, but I stay by her side when she needs me to, listening to her rambles or vents, or wiping away tears that stain her cheeks soft like mochi.

“I set notifications the night before to give her morning calls during her exams or important days because she tends to snooze the alarm on days like these. I always have extra band-aids ready on hand because she always somehow cuts and hurts herself, which hurts my heart too. Heck, I even learn ridiculous things that would be the death of me just for her, because nothing compares to the sparkle in her eyes when she flashes her precious smile, brighter than the sun that takes my breath away every time. I-”

Kageyama stops midway, face painted with horror as if he just let out a million-dollar secret. Panic flares in his eyes, mouth agape in incredulity as his body rigids, dumbstruck with terror by what rolled off his tongue so smoothly. You wonder if the line got disconnected because he turned into a static image, with a full-blown flustered look on his face.

You wave at the screen. “Tobio, you still there?”

It takes a few seconds for the raven-haired boy to snap back to his senses and regain his composure, coughing awkwardly in attempt to calm himself down. Small patches of blush blooming furiously on his cheeks peek out from his hands covering his mouth.

He looks cute.

No, he’s cute.

He’s always been cute.

“I- Er- Ye- Yeah, I’m still here.” Kageyama struggles to find words from his tad-larger-than-average vocabulary vault that has seem to disappear into thin air.

“Gosh, breathe Tobio, breathe. Come on, take a deep breath with me. One, two, three.”

He exhales deeply at the count of three with eyes shut close, hoping that all his jitters have been expelled away in the air.

“There you go. Feel better now?” Your lips tug up gently as the boy on the screen visibly relaxes, shoulders loosening from the tension, face free of creased lines.

He opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust his vision before returning a soft smile to you. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

A tranquil silence blankets over the both of you. This time, the steady beats of two young hearts thump in tune like a metronome. Two young souls gaze at each other, basking in the calmness and comfort of the sincere warm smiles that felt so much like home; but too proud to admit they were like lovesick fools, brushing off the feelings that were screaming loudly to be heard, feelings that they were afraid to face.

“Do you think she knows?” It’s a genuine question, one that takes a mountain high of courage to come up with.

“I’m sure she does.” It’s a genuine answer, one that takes a of couple hundred meters of might to emerge from the deep ends of the sea to come up with.

And you both hope that you’re on the same wavelength.

“So back to square one. Who’s the girl?”

“None of your business.”

“Another piece of crap from you and I’ll leave without you at the metro station tomorrow.”

“Sorry.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you reach the designated exit of the metro station the next day, a pair of eyes as blue as the day immediately catches your attention among the crowd, feet shuffling on its own accord towards them. As if there was a detector sensing your presence within him, the owner of the beautiful pair of orbs turns to you, raising a hand in greeting.

Kageyama gives you a smile, a smile that says, ‘I hope my smile makes you feel warm and fuzzy’.

You smile back at him, with a smile that says, ‘I hope you know that I know your heart’.

It’s hard to shake off the pride to be damned, but the two lovesick fools find themselves discarding it slowly, bit by bit with each step taken, together.

【☾】

Kageyama is a creature of routine. He always has his day planned out in detail and hates it when it doesn’t go according to plan, or when something pops out of the blue. But there are a few which he can make exceptions for. So when he receives your text asking for dinner after his training session, he agrees in a heartbeat.

He felt his heart sink deeply in his guts when you said there was, indeed, someone who made you feel warm and fuzzy with their smile. But who was he to have his say when his status was merely just a close friend?

Miwa thought he had lost it when he barged into her room without notice that night, scanning her bookshelf for novels, specifically of the romance genre. It was more nerve-wrecking than retaking exams back in high school with Hinata while flipping through the pages, and it didn’t help much when he finally found the particular page, with the first line inked in black staring back at him in doubt.

He doesn’t know why he sent the picture of the page to you. What exactly was he expecting?

Worse, he doesn’t even know why he started blabbing about how he was always there for you, how much he cares for you, and how much you mean to him. It all just came out so naturally that he could actually score an A+ for impromptu speaking.

But when your eyes were filled with concern while calming him down instead of making fun of him or pestering him for more, something flutters in his mind. Maybe it was from the rush of adrenaline from before, or maybe it was his heart that had leaped out from his chest taking over. He brings up the question once again, with more confidence this time.

He knows you’re not one to lie with your eyes. And he sees the kindness and honesty in them.

A ray of hope flickers in him.

So today, Kageyama musters up every ounce of courage he has, and tells himself it’s now or never: to close the gap he has longed for so long between two hands that swayed side by side. Instead of retreating his hands away when they brush against yours, he curls the tip of his fingers with yours delicately, as if your fingers would melt at his touch.

He hopes that he made the right decision.

And when your fingers curl back, intertwined with his, he knows he has made the right decision, and that his question has been answered.

She knows.

And the fact that he’s the one behind the smile that makes you go all warm and fuzzy, he swears it feels like he could run for miles and miles without running out of breath, soaring even higher than the clouds in the skies. None of the perfect sets he has set in his lifetime could compare to the satisfaction and bliss he was feeling right now.

Because you had set his life ablaze the moment fate brought the both of you together, and you’re his end game.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#kageyama tobio x you #kageyama tobio x y/n #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama x y/n #kageyama x reader #kageyama fluff #kageyama tobio fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #hq imagines #i want a soft boy like kageyama T_T #fun fact: the first line on page 30 for me is actually 'he smiles' too #which i thought to myself 'ah yes my 2d men smiling best describes my love life'#i originally started this for suga but it turned into kags midway hhh #go grab your nearest book and tell me whats the first line of your page 30!

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amethystdarkwolf · 3 years ago

Text

Broken

AU: X Ship: Poly of Eijiro Kirishima, Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, and Hitoshi Shinso (This was easier than typing out all the pairings) Prompt: X Requested by: X Warnings: Internalized Acephobia, mentions of sex, non con like elements (Nothing happens though it is mentioned), insecurities and fears of breaking up. If I missed any please let me know! Summary: Eijiro loved his partners. He loved them more than life itself. They were more than accepting of any eccentricities of each other, which is to be expected from a poly of seven different personalities. But he didn’t know if they would accept him when they realized he was broken. F/A/H-C: Hurt/Comfort POV: 3rd, following Eijiro. Word Count: 3,735 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Side Note: Hi, I’m finally back to writing fics, even though it’s for a different fandom now, it’s still something lmao. I may come back to writing Sanders Sides eventually but we shall see. Let me know what you think of it! And I hope you enjoy!

They are all 3rd years and about to graduate UA! I wasn’t sure if that was considered an au or not but they are of legal age! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eijiro knew there was something about him that was different from his other classmates. Originally he had just blamed all the weirdly delayed interest in any girls, moreso any talk of ‘hooking up’, on him being gay once he finally figured that out.

But then the thoughts he thought he should have about guys, about doing things with guys never came either. He knew that he found guys attractive, obviously, he developed the biggest crush on two of the most powerful students in his class incredibly quickly after seeing both of their strengths, but whenever he thought about them, about being with them. Nothing sexual came from it. He’s a teenager he should be having these thoughts right?

He heard Denki talking about some of the guys in the class at one point, saying how hot a few of them were. And, well, Eijiro could agree, however when Denki started going into more detail about what he saw in the locker room, the redhead went silent. He couldn’t see anyone like that, not even two of his most prominent crushes. Was there something wrong?

He was not able to figure it out until their third year of high school. Now in a relationship that consisted of seven total. Polyamory was a thing introduced to him by Izuku once they had started dating and Eijiro realized he still had feelings for Katsuki after quite some time. He was overjoyed that Izuku had shown him that, moreso that he and Katsuki both agreed to it.

Not too long later, Izuku realized his feelings for Shoto, and Denki. Eijiro came to these realizations himself later. Denki then had feelings for both Hanta and Hitoshi. After quite a while of this, everyone in the poly was dating everyone. Which made things both a little less complicated and a little more complicated.

Eijiro loved his partners. He loved them more than life itself. They were more than accepting of any eccentricities of each other, which is to be expected from a poly of seven different personalities.

But he didn’t know if they would accept him when they realized he was broken.

He didn’t start off thinking like that. He just thought he was taking longer than everyone else to develop these kinds of feelings towards the others. Denki and Hanta using obviously suggestive flirting with one another while the group was together was to be expected. Then Hitoshi joined in, then Katsuki, Shoto, and eventually Izuku was making remarks that can and were meant to be taken in a not so innocent way.

Eijiro laughed along with these jokes, he understood them and was fine with them. So he thought there was nothing wrong with him. It wasn’t until the words turned into actions that he came to the realization about himself.

Katsuki and him were both incredibly physical with their fighting styles. So it’s only natural that every once in a while, their very playful spats would turn into wrestling matches in one of their rooms.

It was later into the night, a majority of the students were either asleep or down in the common area. Eijiro smirked as he managed to pin Katsuki down onto the floor, his hands grabbed his wrists keeping them pinned beside his head, using his quirk to ensure they stayed there. Both of the boys were a little out of breath panting in eachother's faces.

Eijiro wasn’t thinking about what position they were in. The fact that he was on top of Katsuki, kneeling on either side of the others lower body was lost on him. Until he realized Katsuki wasn’t continuing to struggle. As the pairs of red eyes met one another, Eijiro noticed the look in his partner’s. They were slightly darkened yet hazy. A look that he recognized instantly.

The same look he had given Denki before he had pinned him against the wall, marked up his neck so much that the bruises were left for at least two weeks. There was probably more to that story that he hadn’t quite heard, or had subconsciously tuned out due to the nature of it.

A sickening feeling of panic bubbled up in his stomach, along with a feeling of near disgust. The second he realized it, he jerked away, scrambling off of his boyfriend with a nervous laugh. “Ha! Gotcha, man!” He prayed Katsuki wouldn’t pick up on the tremble of his voice. Katsuki’s expression immediately changed from the look he had before, to one of confusion. He was silent as he seemed to examine the redhead.

Eijiro had gotten really good at reading Katsuki’s expressions, but there was one he was never able to quite pinpoint. Katsuki’s blank expression. None of his normal anger that seemed to constantly reside on his face, no annoyance, no smugness, absolutely nothing. That was the expression most of his partners tended to worry about when it showed up, just because it was so unreadable.

That was the expression Kirishima was met with after the confusion seemed to fade.

“Right.” Katsuki mumbled.

Eijiro glanced around the room quickly, looking for anything to change the topic or clear the awkward air around them. His eyes caught his bookbag and he grinned, “Oh hey, would you mind uh, helping me study again? I’m getting a little hung up on how some of the equations work.” Please work, please work, please work.

It did and it didn’t.

Katsuki hummed, the annoyance finally reading on his face once again. He knew something was up, but he knew that Eijiro was trying to hide it, he could tell. But despite that, he nodded, “Fine. What is it?”

There was going to be a talk later. It was going to be asked, Eijiro could tell. But now it wasn’t happening. He could only hope that he would have some explanation once the talk did happen.

----

He did come to an explanation. A much worse one than he hoped he would come to and in a much worse way.

He thought he had it figured out. That he was just awkward about it since he had never tried it, the position he had gotten Katsuki in was weird and that’s all it was. Maybe it would stop being like that once he was prepared to take that step with his partners. They had all waited for one another to be ready before trying anything at all so he figured it would be fine.

That’s all he thought it was.

Like Katsuki and Eijiro’s playful wrestling matches, Denki and him had something very similar. Only, they were often brought on by Kirishima winning in whatever game they were playing, and Denki tackling him, which led to more of a tickle fight than anything. Both laughing and giggling as they rolled around on the floor.

Golden eyes met red ones once they calmed down, the electric boy was now above him. Easily Eijiro could push him off, but he was still too giddy from the childlike roll around they had just had to even think about it. Denki leaned down once he caught his breath, placing a small chaste kiss onto Eijiro’s lips. Another small laugh leaving him before he repeated the process.

Eijiro was fine with this, this was sweet. He returned the kisses gladly, not at all complaining even when it progressed to a full makeout session. This didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. This didn’t make him have that feeling of panic and disgust. Maybe he was better now! Maybe he’s finally over whatever that was!

He should have known not to be so hopeful.

He leaned up on his elbows a little, feeling like he couldn’t get enough of his boyfriend’s kiss. He didn’t stop Denki when the other’s hands began to wander down his chest. This felt okay, this felt nice. This was just Denki being touchy. He was used to it.

Until it wasn’t just that.

Denki’s hand wandered down, down further past Eijiro’s stomach, as it made its way closer and closer, that feeling came back. Bubbling up much worse than last time, the thought came too quickly, the thought of any of his partners touching him like that, made him immediately tense up. Finally he was getting those thoughts he thought he should have been getting, but now instead of getting aroused by them, all he felt was that gross, uncomfortable and panicky feeling.

He finally snapped out of his own thoughts when he felt a small shock course through him. He blinked a couple times, feeling hot tears falling down his face. His body was shaking, and in front of him, he saw those golden eyes again. Looking at him with so much worry.

Eijiro drew his hand away from Denki’s wrist quickly. When had he grabbed him? “Eijiro!” He managed to register that his boyfriend was talking to him. It took him a moment longer to gather his voice enough to respond, “w-wh… what happened?”

Denki looked even more confused, “You tell me! I-dude I would’ve stopped! You were just suddenly shaking and crying and you jerked my arm away from you! Are you okay?”

Eijiro nodded after a moment, “Yeah, Yeah sorry, I just kinda freaked out I guess?” That was the only way he could explain it, though it was obvious enough that Denki knew that much. Denki’s expressions were much easier to read than Katsuki. Which only made it that much easier to see the confusion and worry now be joined by hurt.

“Did… Did you not think I’d stop?” He sounded just as petrified as Eijiro felt currently. Eijiro shook his head immediately, “No! No! I mean-Yes! I knew you would have stopped! I trust you! I just wasn't thinking, I guess…? I don’t really know.”

Denki nodded, seemingly content with that answer. “Okay, dude. Uh, do you wanna keep playing?” Gesturing over to the forgotten Switch. Eijiro smiled a little and nodded, “Yeah! Can’t wait to kick your ass again!” He said hitting his fists together.

The blonde grinned, immediately returning back to his normal happy self. “Oh whatever! That last round was a total flub! Doesn’t count!”

That night, Eijiro rested his head against his pillow, his mind racing through the events of the day. Something that hadn’t quite clicked in his head finally did. “I trust you” was what he had said in reassuring Denki. Which was true, he trusted all of his partners, he couldn’t have a relationship if he didn’t.

But, if he couldn’t even bear the thought of the people he trusted with his life, he loved with all of his heart, to touch him like that… Then that wasn’t the problem. Being awkward and nervous wasn’t the explanation. Not being ready wasn’t the explanation.

Finally he accepted it as tears came to his eyes. “I’m never going to be ready for it…” he murmured to himself. “I’m never going to want that.”

It made sense, he had never liked the idea before, never thought about it before, and now that it was almost thrown in his face (On accident, Denki of course didn’t know he felt like this and Eijiro couldn’t blame him). He panicked. He wasn’t afraid of it. It didn’t make him nervous. It made him uncomfortable.

He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, as a sob left his mouth. He wasn’t like any of his partners, he wasn’t like anyone in the class, hell he didn’t even know if there was a possibility of anyone like him being at the school. He’s Broken.

Quickly remembering that Katsuki was right next door, he grabbed a pillow, biting it in order to muffle himself.

He was broken, he didn’t feel the things he was supposed to. He didn’t want the things his partners wanted. What most people consider a crucial part of a relationship he couldn’t even think about without feeling sick.

It hurt, it hurt and ached every part of his being. His partners were all accepting, but they’ll want that. He’d be a horrible partner to deny them something that they’d consider important in the relationship. Why would they bother sticking with him if he wasn’t enough? If he couldn’t make them fully happy what was the point?

How vividly he could imagine their faces made it so much worse. Izuku would smile softly, try to let Eijiro down slowly, probably even apologizing. Katsuki would be annoyed, thinking he wasn’t tough enough to handle it. Denki would think it was funny and ridiculous. Hanta would be confused, who wouldn’t want to have sex with their partners? Shoto wouldn’t really have any glaring expression, just a simple sigh of dissatisfaction, and Hitoshi would just roll his eyes, like Eijiro had been a waste of time.

He was pretty sure he had torn open his pillow at this point, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He never wanted to see them like that. He never wanted to lose them just because he was broken. He was supposed to be unbreakable after all! He needed to fix it. There had to be some way to keep that from happening.

A terrifying thought crossed his mind.

‘If I just force myself through it once, with one of them, and then it’ll be fine after that.’

It made him feel sick again, thinking about it. He wouldn’t want it, and he knew his partners would stop and question if they noticed how uncomfortable he was. He sniffled as he continued to debate on it, it would make him feel disgusting, gross and uncomfortable, but it would only be for a little while, and then after that, he could keep his partners, and make sure they’re happy.

That’s what was most important.

---

He made out a little plan, to try to get himself to go through with this. In his mind it was like training. Trying to think of what he thought of that day with Denki without tensing up. Or at least learning how to hide it. Trying to convince himself that ‘it’ll feel good. It’ll feel good.’ The shaking he wasn’t able to get under control, he could blame that on nervousness though, right?

He knew which partner he was going to try to initiate this with. The one he had been with the longest. Izuku. He was so sweet, gentle and kind, but was incredibly strong and determined. It would feel safe, comfortable, right? It had to, it was Izuku.

If Izuku said no, he would go to Katsuki, who he knew would have no problems taking the lead if he teased a little, he would be a lot more to deal with than Izuku though, but if it’ll work then he had to do it. If that didn’t work he would go to Denki, then Hanta, then Shoto and then Hitoshi. Hopefully, Izuku would say yes. He loved and trusted all of his partners, but it would be easiest to handle with Izuku.

-----

It started off a lot like the other two mishaps. Just some playful roughhousing ending with Eijiro pinning Izuku. Eijiro tried desperately to hide any hint of feeling off, looking up to Izuku’s eyes quickly before kissing him.

Izuku returned the kiss, and he was both a little surprised and not surprised at all that Izuku was the one to push it to a makeout session. He was hesitating a little and Izuku seemed to be enjoying this. Good. Good. He was doing good.

He remembered what Denki did with his hands, how he touched him and tried to mimic that on Izuku as best as he could. The memory however, caused that feeling to bubble up again. As he began tracing Izuku’s thighs through the shorts he was wearing, an arm on his own stopped him. He swallowed and looked up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Ei…?” His voice was so soft and gentle.

Eijiro pulled his hands away immediately, “S-sorry, was I-do you not want-I didn’t mean to-” Everything was crumbling. He could feel the barriers he put up beginning to crack and break. The feeling was only getting worse. He’d have to go to Katsuki.

Izuku shook his head, “No! I-I do, want that! Just… you’re shaking…?”

Eijiro gave a little fake laugh, “Ah! I’m just, kinda nervous, don’t wanna mess this up.” He lied through his teeth. Izuku smiled so gently again, “Don’t worry too much, it’s okay, I’m here.” he murmured comfortingly, the hand that had grabbed Eijiro’s forearm moved down to hold his hand.

The redhead let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.” The sickening feeling only bubbled up once more once he continued. Now placing kisses down Izuku’s neck, while his hand went back to tracing up and down his boyfriend’s body.

He could feel the trembling get worse. He tried to swallow down the panic that was trying to force itself through him as he scraped his teeth against Izuku’s neck. He reached a spot right where his neck and shoulder meet that made Izuku breathe heavier, and whine, right next to Eijiro’s ear. He had no chance.

Hearing the sound was so different than just the touch. With the touch he could try to think of something else to keep from breaking, but with that noise it shot him right back. Making him realize exactly what he was doing. Exactly what he was about to force himself to do. It was too much. It was all too much.

The barrier broke.

The tears and sick feeling he had been trying to hold back now came in full force. He withdrew his hands from Izuku but kept his face in his neck for a moment as he let the tears fall. Izuku tensed under him. Strong arms immediately came to wrap around him. “Ei?” he asked again. His voice sounded so much more panicked than before.

Sounded like Denki did, concern, worry and panic.

Eijiro shook his head, “I-I’m… I’m so sorry, Izuku. I tried, I really did. But I can’t.” the words managed to get choked out between sobs. “I can’t do it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m broken.”

He couldn’t see Izuku’s face, but with the silence he could only imagine what he had thought of when he first came up with this plan. The soft smile, ready to let him down slow. To end things with him. He deserved it anyways, for not being enough. He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to see it when he felt Izuku start to pull away.

Suddenly he was being picked up, and placed on the bed. “Ei… Look at me, please.” Izuku’s voice was shaking, that he wouldn’t pick up until later. But he didn’t need to. Once he finally managed to open his eyes and look at Izuku’s face. The thought of Izuku letting him down slow with that smile vanished instantly.

Izuku had tears in his eyes too. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to hold him more at that moment. “Please, just breathe, okay? Then we can talk, I’m just confused.” He was more than confused. Eijiro could see it. But he accepted that for now. And slowly worked through calming himself down from the panic attack.

He looked back at Izuku and nodded, “‘m okay to talk now…”

Izuku smiled at him, genuinely luckily, and nodded back. “Okay, please tell me what you meant by that…?”

Eijiro looked off to the side, not wanting to meet those sad green eyes again as he gathered his thoughts to explain.

“I never, ever really, felt anything like that towards anyone. Whenever I’d get a crush, I couldn’t even imagine anything like that with them… This is just how I’ve been. And I just thought that eventually, I’d get those feelings. They didn’t come. And when I fell for all of you, I thought, okay maybe once I’m comfortable with them, maybe it’s just because I’m nervous at the thought of it that it was like that… But I am comfortable with all of you, I trust all of you.”

He sniffled, rubbing at his eye as he could feel more tears threatening to spill.

“I realized that I probably won’t ever want to do anything like that. Or be comfortable with it. Even when it came to you guys, any thought of that I felt… Gross and uncomfortable and panicky. But, I know a lot of people, most people say that that is an important part in a relationship. And-And I didn’t… Didn’t want to be a bad boyfriend. I want you guys to be happy and satisfied and content and… all of that… and if you all wanted that to be happy, then… you wouldn’t want me…”

“Eijiro…” Izuku’s voice was barely above a whisper, in more shock than actually wanting to get his attention or stop his talking.

“So I thought, maybe. Maybe if I can just bare it once. Then I’d stop feeling that way. But, I-I couldn’t… so…” He finally let the tears fall as he shrugged. That was the end, he was expecting Izuku to agree with him. But when he looked up at Izuku’s face.

There were tears falling at a rapid pace down his pretty freckled cheeks, his mouth was slightly open in shock. “Eijiro… Can-Can I hug you?” Eijiro barely let him finish his sentence before he practically lept at Izuku. Holding him tightly, Izuku held him just as tight.

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you feel like that, it doesn’t matter. None of us will think any less of you for that. We love you. It isn’t about sex or anything! We love you. Please, please don’t force yourself, if one day you do feel okay to try then that’s okay! If not? Then that’s also okay. You aren’t broken, Eijiro. You’re perfect.”

Eijiro sobbed as Izuku spoke, murmuring ‘Thank you’s and ‘I love you’s between breaths and sobs. They stayed like that until both of them fell into a comfortable silence. Cuddling and holding one another, perfectly content.

That night Izuku introduced him to a new term. One that meant exactly what Eijiro had thought was him being ‘broken’. The term was ‘Asexual’. He wasn’t broken, he wasn’t wrong, he’s Asexual.

Now, many years later, as a pro-hero that is married to his partners, Eijiro wears that label with pride.

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mianavs · 4 years ago

Text

Savior Complex

He stripped you of your lifeline but refused to let you perish

Chrollo x f!reader

a/n: some chrollo content for your enjoyment

tw: dubcon, imprisonment

wc: 2.1k

Stealing Hatsu from others was akin to eating for Chrollo Lucilfer. He did it to strengthen his abilities and spared little thought on how it affected his victims. To him, people were equivalent to puppets in that they could be used and discarded without a second thought. The only time he spared a thought for his victims was when their Hatsu disappeared from Bandit’s Secret indicating their demise. Chrollo likened it to mourning his victims despite the depravity behind the sentiment.

You were different, however, in more ways than one.

There was no other way to put it—you were a genius nen user. Without any formal training, you developed your ability to manipulate the minds of others. While other geniuses profited off their Hatsu and used it to rise the ranks of society, you were trapped by yours and used it strictly for survival. Bought by a Mafia boss at a young age, you practiced your ‘gift’ on anyone your master sent.

Everything changed when a new esteemed client of your master’s walked into your workshop. Chrollo’s original target had been your master’s rare treasures but, after hearing about your gift, he altered his plan and included your Hatsu. It was a riskier plan, showing up in person for a session, but to Chrollo your ability was worth it.

The first thing that caught his attention was the cold emptiness of the room. Concrete walls, harsh fluorescent lighting, and the smell of disinfectant and death pervaded the small room. You sat on one of the chairs in the center with two armed men on either side. You were a frail young woman in a dirty white gown and with equally dirty hair that lie atop your head in a tangled mess. You were obviously malnourished judging from your sunken cheeks, bony wrists, and knobby knees. The most damning evidence of your mistreatment, however, had to be the leather shackle around your ankle that was connected to a large chain and attached to the wall.

In spite of your dreadful conditions, you rose from your seat with the grace of a newborn deer and greeted Chrollo with a bright smile that caught him off-guard.

“Welcome Dearest Client and please take a seat.”

Chrollo was convinced your lilting voice could soothe a raging beast as he unconsciously lowered his guard and sat down in front of you. Warmth dripped from your eyes as they traversed Chrollo’s face while yours radiated a child-like innocence as you started to explain the process.

“I will look into your eyes for a minute to search your mind for emotions I can use to create your fantasy. Is that alright, Dear Client?”

“Of course, Miss—I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name.”

Your eyes widened at the word ‘name’ while the men behind you shifted uncomfortably. “Um…name? I-I don’t know what—”

“What do other’s call you?” Chrollo interrupted.

“Oh! Then I guess I have multiple names. I’m called ‘You’, ‘Witch’, and ‘Woman’ so please pick whatever you prefer.” You stated and Chrollo started to assess your character and the situation you were in.

“I’ll stick with Miss for now,” he declared before initiating Skill Hunter. “Now, can you tell me a little bit about your gift?”

“Of course,” You were completely oblivious to the growing tension that radiated from your guards and started your explanation. “My creations all take place in the client’s mind but I am always present. They are crafted around positive emotions or memories that I find.”

“So these fantasies are all positive?” Chrollo’s voice successfully masked his disappointment.

“Yes,” you replied fondly. “I use my gift to make other’s happy even if it’s only temporary.”

“Oh…and how long do they usually last?”

“At first, I could only last a couple of minutes but after making a vow, I was able to create fantasies that lasted up to three hours.”

“And what vow is that?” Chrollo asked, genuinely curious.

“Loss of my sight if I ever stopped using my gift. My eyes have no purpose if I can’t use them to search people’s minds and create fantasies for them.” Your smile dimmed as you uttered those words while something akin to pity stirred inside Chrollo; however, it wasn’t enough to spare you.

“What a beautiful sentiment,” Chrollo’s honeyed compliment warmed your heart and your smile brightened once more. “Shall we begin?”

Unlike most of client’s you dealt with, Chrollo’s positive memories and emotions revolved around a group of people instead of jewelry, money, fame. Instead of the luxurious mansions, clear skies, and sandy beaches you normally created the setting of Chrollo’s fantasy was a junkyard city.

You distanced yourself from the client as you usually did and watched from afar. Chrollo greeted each and everyone of the group members but tears welled up in his eyes when a large muscular man approached him.

You panicked at the sight of tears until you felt a wave of happiness from Chrollo and your worries faded away. For you, these moments were priceless and made you forget the pain in your stomach or the weariness in your bones. Seeing your clients happy negated any unpleasant emotions you held against your master and gave your life meaning.

Other clients merely forgot about your existence or purposefully ignored you but Chrollo surprised you by seeking you out.

Where are you? I want you to meet my family.

A strange warmth settled in your stomach at Chrollo’s request and you emerged from your hiding spot. You approached him hesitantly until he reached his hand out causing you to freeze in shock.

“Is there something wrong?” Chrollo asked, confusion written all over his face.

“I-I don’t know. Client’s usually don’t want to see me…why do you?”

“I want to share some of my happiness with you. Is that wrong?” Chrollo’s smile dazzled you and before you realized it, hot tears prickled your eyes.

“T-thank you,” you cried. “N-no one has ever done s-something like this f-for me.”

You accepted Chrollo’s hand and interacted with his family as if the fantasy were real. After delving into Chrollo’s mind some more, you learned that the muscular man was actually deceased and focused on perfecting him for your client.

Like always, you wished your fantasies could last forever along with your client’s happiness but it was an impossible desire and your masterpiece started to crumble. The flaming red sky of the junkyard city turned to fuchsia, then pink, until it became a white void. One by one, the group members disappeared as well until Uvogin was the only one left. He bid Chrollo farewell with a toothy grin on his face before he too became one with the white void.

“I see it’s time to return.” Chrollo commented staring into the white void that was once his beloved city.

“Yes, I’m sorry it ended so soon.” You answered, lowering your head.

Suddenly, Chrollo’s hand grabbed your chin and you met his eyes full of emotions that went beyond your comprehension. “No, Miss, it is I who is sorry.”

You wanted to ask what he meant but your fantasy dissipated into nothing and you were kicked out of Chrollo’s mind.

Your eyes fluttered open to blood splattered walls and your hand lying on an old book held by Chrollo. Everything had gone according to plan and the spiders eliminated everyone in the building including your owner. As the Phantom Troupe hauled out the treasures located in the bunker, Chrollo regained consciousness and fulfilled the last condition of Skill Hunter.

“What…happened?” Your eyes widened in horror when they landed on your fallen guards lying in a pool of their own blood. “H-how?!”

Chrollo watched as you whipped your head around for help only to be met with silence. Your seemingly constant smile was long gone replaced with a horror-stricken face Chrollo was used to seeing on his victims—but you were no ordinary victim.

You trembled as you watched the old book in Chrollo’s hands disappear and darted to your feet in an attempt to run away only to collapse on the ground when your chain extended its entire length.

Teary-eyed, you looked up at Chrollo who decided he never wanted to see that terrified expression on your face ever again. He softened his own face as he crouched down next to you and dried your tears with his thumbs. Confusion replaced fear on your weary face and Chrollo sighed in relief knowing it would be easier to dispel confusion as opposed to fear.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” Chrollo apologized, before knocking you out in a fraction of a second. “But I’ll take care of you now.”

When you woke up to the black void that was your vision, a broken wail erupted from your chest that alarmed various voices in the room. You flailed your arms in front of you to see if you could at least make out their outline but it was to no avail. With your vision gone, the gravity of your situation pumped adrenaline to your limbs causing you to scramble to your knees and crawl on the bed only to fall out of it and onto the cold floor.

“Hey!”

“Are you okay?”

“Get the boss!”

The shoulder you landed on throbbed painfully but the ringing in your head from listening to disembodied voices you didn’t recognize was worse. Curling up into a ball, you clamped your hands onto your ears to cancel out the harsh noise but it was to no avail. A plethora of negative thoughts filled your mind only to be dispelled by a familiar soothing voice that overpowered all noise.

“Dearest Client?” You uncovered you ears and uncurled your body only to hit your shoulder on the ground once again causing you to hiss in pain. Warm hands gently lifted you up and you jerked from the sudden movement.

“Shhh it’s alright, Miss. My name is Chrollo Lucilfer and I’ll be making you happy from now on.”

“B-but my sight…my gift—” The soft bed surprised you as he sat you down on the edge. “W-what are you—”

His hands cupped both cheeks and turned your head forward. “I’m sorry about your gift but I promise I’ll use it well.”

“W-what…how did…I-I don’t—”

“Stay still for me…please.” You were captivated by the gentle firmness of his voice and did as he asked.

When the meaning behind his words hit, you wondered if your gift would even work in your current state. Before you could voice your doubts, however, the darkness that enveloped you turned lighter and lighter until it was a white void you would recognize anywhere. Splashes of color materialized until they formed your last creation—the junkyard city.

“This…made you happy?”

Seeing Chrollo again made your heart swell and you ran to him wanting nothing more than to see his features up close. You took in his disheveled black hair, pale skin, and pools of grey and teared up from simply being able to see another person once again. Raising your hand, you touched his cheek and gasped from how real it felt being on the receiving end of the fantasy.

“Amazing…I-I can’t bel—”

Chrollo’s hand shot out and pulled you into his chest while his arms wrapped around your frail form possessively. His scent and warmth assaulted your senses making your head spin but Chrollo only tightened his hold pressing against your skin harshly. Overwhelmed by the sensations pulsating through your body, you clung to Chrollo not knowing what else to do.

“You’re mine now,” his voice rumbled against the sensitive skin of your neck. “I’ll be your eyes from now on.”

A chill ran up your spine as Chrollo’s mouth trailed kisses up your neck to your mouth. An uncomfortable knot started to build in your stomach as his tongue probed your mouth and pressed against yours. You gave Chrollo free reign over your body not because you reciprocated his desire but because you didn’t know any better.

Your entire existence revolved around pleasing others, so when your tainted fantasy ends and you return to your dark reality; you learn to accept your new role. Moving forward whenever Chrollo visits your room, you continue to let him do whatever he wants to your body by convincing yourself that it’s his happiness that is most important. So when he leaves you naked and trembling with a dull ache between your legs, your mind does what it has always done best—it makes things up to help you cope with your miserable life.

#chrollo x reader #hxh x reader #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #hxh #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #hunter x hunter #hxh fanfic #chrollo fanfic #chrollo scenario #chrollo imagine #hxh imagines #hxh scenarios #yandere chrollo #tw: dubcon #tw: imprisonment #navs.hxh

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alwaysbeliev · 4 years ago

Text

I Can’t Lose You

Happy Valentine’s Day! This is for the @rdr-secret-cupid adventure this year. Thank you for the prompt, @bloodylove3 and I hope you enjoy!

summary: When Dutch asks you and Arthur to pretend you're married for a job, you're nervous that you won't be able to hide your feelings for the outlaw. You manage to keep it in line, but things go wrong fast.

relationship: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

word count: 3497

link on AO3

“Alright, here’s where we’ll start.”

It was mid-afternoon. The heat from the sun above was overwhelming, burning whatever it touched. Not even the shade was a relief with its cover. Animals all around were burrowed underground, hiding inside of trees, splashing around in the cool river nearby, and doing their best to stay out of direct light. You idly watched a small mouse scurry through the grass, digging at the dirt every now and then before disappearing into a hole. Quietly, you wished you were that mouse.

For the hundredth time, Dutch was reviewing his next grand plan. There was a tipoff about a decent score, something that would help the gang move to a new camp, and it would be almost easy to pull off. Almost. But he was careful to plan, detailed to a fault, and now you had to sit through another lecture about making sure you were in the right place at the right time. He stood just inside the flap of his tent as he talked. The others were in a loose circle around him and Hosea.

You felt a drop of sweat slide down the back of your neck. What you wouldn’t give to go jump in the rushing water just a hundred feet away, even fully clothed. Imagining the relief alone made you sweat more. You could feel your skin throb, your cheeks turning red, your shirt sticking to your lower back…

“Hey!”

The sharp sound of Dutch’s voice cut through your daydream, snapping you back to reality. Others were snickering as you jerked your head over and tried to pretend you had been listening.

“As I was saying,” the man continued, “there has been a small change of plan.”

Whoa, Dutch was changing his plan? But the score was just a week away now.

He carried on, “Arthur will be playing the part of your protective, but quiet, husband. You will need to cause a big enough distraction that we can enter without tipping anyone off. Can you handle that?”

“I thought Hosea was providing the distraction?” Your mind was turning, scrambling to remember if that was the original plan or if you were suffering from heat stroke.

“As I had said before, Hosea will be needed outside. It would seem awfully suspicious to outsiders if 5 men all seemed to suddenly rush inside together, don’t you think?”

You supposed he had a point. Outwardly, you agreed with him, but inwardly, your heart was pounding. Arthur? Husband? You barely made it through the rest of the session, managing to excuse yourself as soon as Dutch was done talking. Never before had you felt the palpitations on your chest that you did now at the thought of being with Arthur Morgan. Not just being with him, but pretending to be married.

To say that you had a crush on Arthur was putting it lightly. From the moment you had met the outlaw, the sight of him caused your heart to race faster than his beautiful horse. You could barely speak around him, let alone carry on any conversation, and you were certain everyone in camp knew about it. Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly had approached you just last week to tease you about the way you fumbled over your words when Arthur asked a question. Now you had to pretend to be married?

The group dispersed as Dutch finished his grand lecture, chattering excitedly about the huge score. You felt light-headed and were rooted to the spot. Dutch was right, it should be easy, you had played the actor’s role many times before, but this… This wouldn’t be acting. And surely someone was going to notice that.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

A week passed quicker than any week you’d been through before. You and Arthur had prepared a scene, practicing to get it right, and you were feeling slightly more confident. The cowboy still gave you flutters in your heart, but rehearsed lines were much easier than improvised ones, and you were positive he hadn’t seen the longing in your eyes. It was easy.

But what wasn’t easy was how inseparable the two of you were becoming. Every morning, Arthur approached you near the campfire, offering a small treat, typically a piece of chocolate or a small fruit. The first time, your cheeks had flushed hotter than the summer sun. It hadn’t improved much. You would review your plan for the score, pause for a lunch time meal, and continue in the afternoon. Arthur often seemed to have other ideas, wanting a change of scenery, and you would find yourselves a few miles from camp on some rocky outlook or on a river’s shore, just shooting the breeze while the sun seared high above. Arthur even managed to convince you to leave your horse once, riding behind him with arms wrapped around his chest, content just to be near him.

Finally, the day arrived. The gang all arose early, gathering their tools uneasily. Nerves always ran high the day of, regardless of how much planning had gone into the score, and your stomach churned. Karen had lent a hat, Mary-Beth a beautiful dress in your most favorite color, and you felt so fluffy and over the top. When Arthur saw you, his face seemed to go slack, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“My, my, Mrs. Morgan,” he drawled, taking a few lazy steps to close the gap to you. “Aren’t you lookin’ mighty fine this mornin’.”

Pouting and embarrassed, you waved him off, brushing a tight curl over your shoulder in a weak attempt to mask the color rising to your cheeks.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, now, I’m only tryin’ to lighten the mood.” He laughed before looking somewhat sheepish himself. “Besides, you really do.”

You paused, taking in his sincere compliment.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t have time to respond as Dutch stepped out of his tent, looking the picture of graceful leadership, commanding everyone’s attention. As you turned your body towards him, you saw Arthur’s gaze lingering on your figure, the dress complementing you perfectly. You focused on tugging on your white lace gloves, trying to turn your ears where it mattered.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~

“Alright, Mr. Callahan, now, here we are!”

Your voice pitched up, you pointed out the grandest building in town: the bank. Arthur guided his horse to the hitching post before hopping down, turning to help you down, your big skirt catching slightly and flouncing as your feet landed. Grinning at him, you tugged at his arm excitedly.

“Come on, darling, we gotta go get us a loan! That house ain’t gonna buy itself, you know!”

It was clear you were amusing the man at your side. Your anxiety was causing a jump in your performance, pushing you a slightly uncomfortable bit above believable, but you were pretty and young and the men were watching you. That was all that mattered.

With a grand gesture, you shoved the door to the bank open, stepping into the marbled interior with your boots clicking. The teller glanced up from whatever paperwork he was looking at. For a brief second, he studied the two of you, his eyes lingering on you in particular, before a fixed smile appeared on his face.

“How can I help you?” he drawled. As practiced, Arthur opened his mouth to speak but you butted in before he could.

“Why, hello, Mr…?” You swept forward, extending a hand for him to shake. He glanced at Arthur in disbelief before gingerly shaking your hand.

“Mr. Monaghan.”

“Oh, Mr. Monaghan, how lovely!” You grinned widely, shaking vigorously. “Yes, me and my new husband here are looking to buy a house! Isn’t that just grand? We just got married, you know, just last week! Oh, we had the most beautiful honeymoon, didn’t we, darling? Traveled to see the ocean, oh it was gorgeous! Simply gorgeous! Have you ever been, Mr. Monaghan?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t. Not the way you planned it.

“The birds were so lovely, there were so many of them! Oh, and the food! Simply divine! Have you had seafood before? Crab, lobster, shrimp, oh it was perfect!”

As you rambled, the doors swung in again, allowing entrance to John and Javier. You didn’t spare a look for them, your energy pointed at the teller, and as planned, he didn’t seem to notice them. Your shrill voice and wild theatrics had his whole attention. You carried on as the men got into position.

“They paired the shrimp with-- What was it, my love? This wine, it was a red, wasn’t it? Or was it a white? Mr. Callahan is just hopeless about these things, you know, I’m glad I’m here to help him. Oh we had the most wonderful time together! I thought it might rain one day, there were these horrible gray clouds, but he told me not to worry, even though I wanted to, and sure enough, the sun was out by dinner time!”

The doors creaked again, allowing the last two men in, Dutch and Bill. All 5 men exchanged a look and, in one swift motion, they pulled their bandanas over their faces and drew their weapons. It was satisfying to hear the clicks of a few hammers. Your grin turned wicked and the teller suddenly realized what had happened.

“We’ll take that loan to go, if you don’t mind.” You couldn’t help yourself. Arthur quickly stepped forward, shielding you with his body so your face was hidden, and you hurriedly moved towards the back of the men, allowing them to do what they needed. It was relatively painless and quiet, the teller moving hastily and without hesitation, filling bags with money and even allowing them access to the room with the safes. You served as lookout, casually standing at the window to keep an eye peeled for the law. Only when you heard Dutch’s signature goodbye did you turn away from it. Arthur made eye contact with you and playfully raised his eyebrows as he strode towards the door and you, ready to make for the horizon.

Without warning, the doors flew open, banging against the wall from the force behind it. Several lawmen were standing, guns drawn, ready to take out the outlaws. Instantly, shots were being fired. You didn’t know who fired first, but you dove out of the way, gripping your hat tightly so it wouldn’t be left behind. For some reason, your only coherent thought was Karen would have my hide.

Men were shouting, the smell of gunpowder filled the air. Flat on the floor, you couldn’t see anything, only heard Dutch shouting orders, police filling the streets outside, the solid sound of bullets connecting with flesh. There was nowhere to take cover. Somebody stepped on your leg and you gasped from the pain. A hand gripped your ankle and dragged you towards a wall. Panicked, you tried to scramble away until you registered Arthur’s voice trying to reassure you.

“You boys play nice!” a deep voice bellowed from the porch. “We don’t want no hangings, now, y’here?”

“We will play nice when you play nice, Sheriff!” Dutch barked back.

“This is a fucking massacre!” John spoke to the room at large. The men that had entered before were all on the floor, blood pooling around them, their guns laying forgotten on the wood. More were shouted outside. They were organizing to block all exits from town. There was no way you were gonna make it out now, you started to fear, and you could see the shared looks of the men with you echoing the same sentiment.

A surprised cry arose from outside as another gunshot cracked through the air.

“There’s Mac!”

With renewed energy, everyone jumped up and sprang for the door. Feeling marginally brave, you snatched a gun from the floor, hoping you wouldn’t have to use it. Bill led the way out. Javier, John, and Dutch quickly followed, and Arthur made up the rear with you in tow, sticking to him like glue.

The sun outside was blinding. You barely caught a glimpse of the street before you were rushed down the steps and around the side of the building. Back pressed against the wall, the pounding in your head started blocking out your hearing, and you only felt the vibrations in the air and under your feet. Even with all of Dutch’s careful planning, you were still trapped in this mess…

Arthur shouted your name. He stood, almost pressed to you, eyes burning. You snapped to attention, gun at the ready.

“We gotta make a break for it! Be ready on my count!”

It was all you could do to nod. You saw his horse in your peripheral, antsy and pawing, but waiting. You tried desperately to calm your breathing and gathered your skirts up out of your way. At the mark, you all ran, each in slightly different directions to mount their horses, spurring before fully mounted. Arthur was first and you scrambled after him, latching onto his arm and using the momentum of his horse to swing your leg over, skirts be damned. With a sharp cry, he urged his horse forward and away from town.

For a brief moment, you were free. Pounding hooves sounded behind you but were fading fast. The shouts of men continued to rip through the air, but you realized that they, too, were slowly growing faint. And then a stabbing pain exploded in your thigh. A scream escaped before you could stop yourself. Trained well, Arthur didn’t stop his horse, but he tried to see what had happened, calling back to you with increasing desperation. You had been shot. The panic, the shortness of breath, and now the pain was too much. In a surprisingly short matter of seconds, black filled your vision and you were gone.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

The rustle of the trees. The soft sound of running water. Crackling of a campfire. Low voices outside your tent. Your hair brushing your face. Dull and throbbing pain in your leg. Heaviness in your chest. And, finally, the realization you were laying on a cot and not your usual bedroll.

Slowly, your eyes blinked open. This definitely wasn’t your tent. These weren’t your blankets. Only the soft glow from the fire and a few lanterns shone on the one canvas wall. It was enough light to see that this was Arthur’s tent, the small table with his journal and flower, his photographs on the wagon side. His smell on the blankets. You breathed in deeply.

A snort by your feet caused you to startle. Sitting up slowly, you saw Arthur slumped in a chair, his hat drawn over his face, arms crossed as he breathed evenly, the occasional snore breaking the silence. An strong and sharp pain made you hiss and, in turn, woke the outlaw from his slumber.

“You’re awake,” he mumbled, barely awake himself as he sat up.

“Regrettably…”

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Honestly? Not great,” you said, chuckling a little. “But I’ve had worse. Why am I here?”

“Thought you might like a real bed. Well, realer than your bedroll. We can put you out for the wolves, if ya like.” His teasing tone was back, but it was more strained than normal. He looked absolutely exhausted.

“No, this is fine. It’s… nice.”

Silence fell again. You stared at a thread on the sheet while Arthur stared at you. Usually there was a party the night after a big score, everyone drinking and being merry. There was a strange lack of boisterous laughter, though, and you had the weird feeling it was your doing.

“How did we make out?”

“Oh, we escaped,” he said, leaning back in the chair again. “But we’re trapped here awhile, there’ll be law crawlin’ everywhere for a few weeks.”

“How much?”

Not even your fixation on the money got him to crack a smile.

“Dunno.” Shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve been in here, makin’ sure you don’t die.”

Arthur’s behavior was bizarre. You hadn’t seen him behave this way when another gang member was injured, not even when John had nearly been lost last year, and it was starting to worry you. Was there something else you didn’t know about? Was your injury more serious than he was letting on? For a moment, you studied his face, the ache and shadows clear in the weak light, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the barest sign of a light track down his cheek.

“Arthur…”

It was such a soft whisper, you weren’t sure he had heard you at first. He lifted his eyes to meet yours. You tried desperately to read him for a second before finally caving.

“Arthur, what happened? Did someone not make it?”

At long last, he managed a short huff of air that might be mistaken for laughter. Shaking his head, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he ran his hands across his face, removing his hat and setting it on his wardrobe. When he looked at you again, he actually had a small smile, and relief had replaced what you had mistaken for grief.

“No, no, nothin’ like that.”

“So what’s the matter?”

He tilted his chin up, exhaling long and low towards the sky, seemingly contemplating something. It was quiet for an achingly long time. Another deep sigh and he brought his chin back down, meeting your gaze steadily.

“I thought I was gonna lose you,” he murmured. “I heard the shot, your scream… I thought you were gone for sure.”

Okay… you thought, still bewildered. We’ve almost lost people before. What makes me special?

“And I didn’t get the chance to tell you…” You had seen him struggle with words in the past, but this was different. It was almost as if his voice was physically fighting him on saying anything. “I couldn’t stand to lose you, truth be told. You mean-- That is, you’re very important-- That’s, well…”

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you realized what he was trying to say. You didn’t dare utter a word, hoping, begging him to just spit it out. You weren’t positive this was happening, as now you were almost certain you had actually died and this was the beginning of your personal heaven.

“I can’t lose you, darlin’.”

The tears spilled over and dripped down your cheeks. You couldn’t even feel the pain in your thigh as it felt like a major weight had been lifted off of you. Arthur was startled, concern growing once more on his face at your tears, but when you started to grin and laughter bubbled up, he relaxed and looked as embarrassed as a school boy, dropping his eyes and smiling himself.

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me to hear,” you finally said, shaking your head at the silliness of it all. “I can’t lose you, either, Arthur. You mean the world to me.”

Slowly, the cowboy rose from his seat and approached the edge of the cot. You gingerly shifted yourself over to allow him to sit beside you, and he took the opportunity. You soaked in the other’s presence for just a moment. With the softest gaze you had seen from him, Arthur returned his attention to you. He lifted a hand to cup your face, his rough thumb stroking your cheek as he drank in your features, looking truly content for the first time. Gracefully and ever the gentleman, he tilted your face up to meet his as he carefully kissed you. It was light at first. He was testing the waters, not pushing too fast. But when you met him eagerly, he leaned in, hard.

You didn’t dare breathe for the duration of the kiss, your heart a frightening combination of pounding and not beating at all. The taste of whiskey lingered fresh on his lips and left your mouth tingling. When Arthur pulled away, you shifted forward slightly, not wanting it to end. But, courteous as always, he pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead and then sat back again. Your eyes flickered all over his face. You were still unsure if you could catch your breath.

“Wanted to do that for a long time,” he muttered. All you could do was nod. Wow…

“Can you stay with me?” you blurted out. “Tonight?”

“O’ course,” he agreed. He tugged his boots off as you scooted as far over as you could, lifting the sheet for him to crawl into. Warmth radiated from his skin and it was like stepping into a comfortable bath as he wrapped his arms around you. You sighed into his chest, drinking in his smell with your face buried in him, hands gripping his shirt. The dull sting in your leg was in the background of your mind. It didn’t matter to you, though; you were safe here. And this wasn’t going to end any time soon.

#arthur morgan #rdr secret cupid 2021 #arthur morgan reader insert #arthur morgan x reader #angel writes

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uniqorrn · 4 years ago

Text

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Location: The Dropship

Summary: After leaving the camp with Clarke, Jasper, Octavia, Monty, and Fin in attempt at getting to the mountains you make the mistake of following Octavia into the fresh water you find along the way. After Octavia is attacked by a creature in the water she is saved by Jasper. You all think you're safe but, the creature comes back for more and takes you this time instead, leaving you injured when the group finally saves you. However, Bellamy isn't too happy to see that both his sister and his girlfriend come back to camp wounded.

Warnings: ⚠️ language, kind of a make-out session/a little smutty, blood, being attacked by a creature, injuries, mentions of drowning/drowning like scenes, overprotective! and jealous! Bellamy(but hey who doesn't like that 😉)

Pairing(s): Bellamy Blake x Reader some Fin x Reader if you squint.

Words: 2,292

A/n: For this imagine the story has been altered a little bit. And I apologize if somethings wrong with the scene, I just started watching the 100 so I apologize in advance if i anything seems off or wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV:

"Are you sure we're going the right way, Clarke?" You groaned out as you stepped over yet another large tree root. You had been walking for hours and your body was tired. All you wanted was to sit down and rest for just a minute.

"Yes, I'm sure." She paused, taking in a deep breath as she looked around at the woods. "I at least think we are."

"Maybe we should go back to ca-"

"Hey, guys! Check this out!" You were interrupted by a sudden shout, turning your head in the direction of the shout you sped up your pace until you moved into a run. Your e/c eyes widened at the sight, allowing them to dance across the crystal still water that laid in front of you. A wide grin tugged at your lips as you turned to look at Octavia, giving her that same mischievous smirk that she was giving you.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" She laughed, her eyes darting back out to the still water.

"Hell yeah!" You shouted, pumping your fist into the air before starting to take off your jeans as you watched Octavia begin to break the still water, creating ripples the further she walked in.

"Man, I love earth" you heard Jasper mumble behind you. You rolled your eyes at his comment knowing he was watching you and Octavia strip of your clothes. With that same smirk you followed Octavia into the water, sighing at the cold sensation that wrapped around your body the deeper you went. However, you only made it waist deep in the water when the group behind you began shouting.

"Get out of the water!"

"Get out of the water now you guys!" Your eyes widened at the way the water moved. Fast ripples and waves moved towards you and Octavia at a lightning fast speed. You turned on your feet and moved out of the water as fast as you could, slipping and sliding on the wet rocks beneath your feet as the water restricted your movements. The rest of the group were up on the rocks, shouting and reaching their hands out towards you and Octavia. You managed to get closer to the rocks to grab Fins hand, who pulled you out of the water and onto land unharmed. Without a minute of rest you turned around quickly, screaming out your bestfriends name in fear.

"Octavia!" You cried, letting go of Fins arm as you fell to the ground near the edge of the rock you were standing on. Your eyes landed on Octavia just as the creature took her under the water, your eyes glazing over with tears instantly.

"Octavia! No!" You continued to cry out for her, your eyes searching the deep river for any signs of her. Just as soon as everyone thought she was gone, she broke the surface again and dragged around in circles, screaming for help.

"Quick! Help me distract it. Maybe it will let her go." Clarke shouted, pushing a large boulder into the water with the help of Fin. Just as she thought, the creature let go of Octavia and rushed to the splash that was created by the giant rock. Jasper ran to the waters surface, jumping in and pulling her out of the water and onto land safely.

"Octavia! Your leg." Clarke mumbled, pointing to the smaller wound on her upper thigh. I stayed sitting on the cold wet rock, watching the group from a distance as they checked on her wound. I was too busy focusing on slowing my breathing that I didn't notice the creature was coming back until something grabbed my ankle. A sharp, loud scream left my throat as I was dragged back into the freezing cold water. As I went under, I inhaled some of the river water, coughing it back up and gasping for air as I surfaced.

"Y/n!" The group shouted, rushing to the edge of the rock.

"Y/n! Hold on! Quick, Somebody help her!" I could hear Octavia's terrified shouts from the shore as the creature dragged me around the water. However, everyone was frozen In place and too shocked to do anything. Another sharp scream left my throat as sharp teeth sank into my waist and left arm, blood staining the water red as it leaked from my body and into the river.

"S-Somebody... h-help me!" I coughed out, reaching my right hand out of the water as if someone would grab it and help pull me out. By this time I had inhaled too much water and was becoming dizzy from the lack of oxygen. As spots started clouding my vision everything stopped, the creature released me from its hold and suddenly I was floating, kicking myself up above the waters surface to try and inhale what oxygen I could. My body grew tired the more I kicked, pain shooting up my left side with each thrust as i kicked myself closer to the shore. My head started to go under again, my breathing turning into desperate gasps.

"It's alright, I got you now." Fins hands wrapped around my arm, pulling me out of the water and back onto the shore. He pressed me against his chest as I coughed up more water onto the rocks, groaning at the pain that throbbed on my left side. He gently put me down on the ground, rolling me onto my side to let the water fall from my mouth.

"Oh god.. Y/n! Are you okay?!" Octavia shouted, her eyes glossing over as she looked at the deep gash on my waist.

"I-I'm alright..-" I paused to cough, wincing at the pain in my side. "I think anyway" I forced out a laugh, soon followed by another short coughing fit.

"Let's get you two back to camp, those injuries are bad." Clarke said, the others all nodding in agreement as they crowded around me.

"Wait you guys.." Jaspers eyes widened, his lip quivering slightly. It's like he was frozen with fear, even greater fear than what we just went through.

"What Jasper? We don't have time to wait." Clarke lectured, per usual for her. There was a rather long pause as we all waited for Jasper to speak up again. And when he finally did the groups eyes widened in fear, swallowing the lumps in their throats as he uttered those five words.

"Bellamy's going to kill us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Someone get me some medical supplies!" Clarke shouted as we made it into the clearing of the camp. All eye turned to look at us, hushed gasps and whispered filling the clearing as Jasper helped Octavia sit down on a log and while Fin placed me on the floor next to her, helping me lean back against the log for support. Bellamy and Murphy were in the back of the large crowd that had gathered around. They shared a look, Bellamy's jaw flexing as he pushed forward through the crowd, Murphy following quickly behind.

"What the hell happened here?" That voice. That stern, deep, husky voice you knew all to well sounded above all the commotion. You raised your head slightly, giving Bellamy a tired smile as Fin adjusted you once more for Clarke to be able to work her magic. Murphy stood next to Bellamy, the two giving each other a worried yet curious stare as their eyes landed on my wounds.

"Ow! Clarke that stings!" I hissed out, jerking backward slightly as she applied some ointment to the wound. Bellamy walked up to Octavia first, sending Fin and Clarke a glare as they ignored his protests and questions. But, I didn't fail to see that stern glare he sent their way as he squatted down next to his sister. He was always overprotective of me and his sister but, when it came to me it was a whole new level of overprotective. I was used to it by now but, it still sent butterflies to my stomach knowing he still felt and acted the same way as when we first met.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. But, we need to clean the wound, it could get infected." You could hear Bellamy and Octavia mumbling at the other end of the log. Bellamy's jaw tightened in anger and worry the more he heard your painful moans. He hated seeing you hurt in anyway so, you can imagine the shock he had when he saw you entering the camp with a bloody gash on your waist and a rather large scratch on your left arm. He wasn't there to protect you and that pissed him off even more. After Clarke was done she and Fin walked over to Octavia, leaving you alone for only a few seconds before Bellamy was right at your side.

"Are you crazy? You could've gotten yourself killed Y/n!" He mumbled, placing a hand on your shoulder as he used the other one to lean on, giving himself some support.

"I'm fine, Bellamy. Fin pulled me out of-"

"Fin?! Why is it always about Fin nowadays!" He whisper-yelled, his face turning red in anger and jealousy.

"Bellamy calm down! I'm alive thanks to him-"

"I'm not going to calm down Y/n! You could have died! don't you get it? you could have died out there and I wouldn't know. I don't like that he touched you.. I don't like that he was the one that pulled you out of the water. I don't like that he's the one who brought you back to camp wrapped up in his arms as if he was your boyfriend-" I cut off his jealous rant with a kiss, pressing my lips onto his in a heated kiss. His breathing slowed down and his muscles began to relax as our lips moved in sync. After a minute we broke away for air, resting our foreheads against each others. He moved his lips down to my neck to place rough yet sweet kisses there, earning a gasp out of me. He placed feather light kisses the rest of the way down, stopping at my exposed shoulder -as I was wearing a tank top- to place small, light, loving kisses there. A small groan left my lips at his light touch which caused him to smirk against my skin. He knew exactly what he was doing and only made his ego bigger.

"Bell.. Not here. Not in front of everyone." I mumbled, pushing his head up so he could look me in the eyes again.

"Why not? Everyone should know that you belong to me." He smirked, tucking his hand underneath my legs as the other wrapped around my lower back, careful not to touch the wound on my hip. He stood up with me in his arms-bridal style- as he started walking to his tent. Giving Fin a sharp glare and a smirk as he passed him before entering me and his shared tent. He gently set me on the cot, giving me another hot kiss on my lips. He placed his hands on either side of me to support himself as he hovered over me. His black curly hair fell over his face as he planted his lips back on my neck, kissing and sucking till a sharp gasp left my throat once again. He abused that spot for a moment, smirking against my skin as our breathing became heavier and our bodies became hotter.

"You're lucky you're injured right now or else I wouldn't be holding back." His hot breath hit against my skin as he spoke, making another quiet moan leave my throat.

"Oh really?" I smirked, placing a firm kiss on his toned jawline. He took in a sharp breath, falling to lay beside me on the cot. His signature smirk was plastered on his face as he made himself comfortable next to me, his hand running down the thigh that wasn't injured.

"Now you've got me all hot and bothered, babe." I grumbled, scooting down so I could lay my head on his bicep, giving him a small kiss on the cheek before I snuggled into his chest.

"You could say it's payback for almost dying on me."

"Well, you'll just have to punish me when I'm better don't you think?" I questioned. I already knew what his answer would be but, I enjoyed the teasing.

"Oh you know it babygirl." He smirked, looking down at me with those dark, brooding eyes. oh boy were you in for a treat once your wound healed.

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godzillagirl-14 · 4 years ago

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Wish Upon an Idol (Ch. 4)

Chapter 4

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Summary: The Bangtan boys have the ability to grant wishes (unbeknownst to you, the brand new addition to their friend group) So when you jokingly wish you had superpowers to “help the world in a way you knew how” what happens when wake up the next day with extraordinary abilities?

Warnings: Drama, angst, a lot of action, smut, and a bad attempt at being humorous.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst - anxiety attacks, reader is implied to be bisexual, crying, self doubt, reader is very frustrated- steamy make out session ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Word Count: 4,945

Taglist: @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @snowythellama @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore (If you want to be tagged just let me know) :)

Hope you enjoy!

You were angry.

So so fucking angry as you stormed down the street. Your body temperature was skyrocketing and you felt something animalistic deep down in your core that made you want to turn on your heel and tear your boss apart.

No. That’s not what these powers are for.

Nodding along with your thoughts you tried to calm yourself, to will away the sparks at your fingertips, and to slow down the erratic beating of your heart. You were aware that many people had watched you break Jaehyun’s nose, watched you storm out of the cafe with you creative choice of words.

Scrub the leeches out of the devil’s asshole. You gave yourself some props, you got your point across that you would never want to be with someone who constantly disrespects your boundaries, even after you had told them to stop. Your heart was already taken anyway.

What would the boys think? How would they react?

You wondered what the boys would have done if they had witnessed you throwing that ferocious jab at your boss. Would they be proud that you finally stood up for yourself? Would they be disappointed? Would they regret giving you powers in the first place?

Your heart dropped at the thought. Maybe your temper was too short for these powers. One wrong move and you could ruin someone’s life. Letting out a frustrated huff, you turned into a nearby alleyway. Your frustration and anger were building, leaving you feeling like a walking furnace. Leaning against a brick wall, you closed your eyes and thought of ways to cool yourself down.

Icebergs, Antarctica, glaciers, ice cold water... Truth be told, you just wanted to find the nearest lake and plunge into it. That would help you clear your thoughts and help your get back to your neutral state.

Pressing your cheek up against the cool surface of the building, you almost moaned out loud at the relieving sensation. Just a few more moments and you can walk home with a semi-clear head.

“Well, isn’t this a pretty sight,” Ah shit. “What’s a pretty little thing doing out so late by herself?” un-fucking-believable. Rolling your eyes you turned your gaze to the voice at hand, sizing him up, doing very little to hide your agitation.

“It’s 4:30 in the afternoon,” His eyebrows shot to his hairline at your snappy remark before he laughed coolly and you wanted nothing more than to swipe that smirk clean off his face. He reminded you of Jaehyun, just from his body language. It made you heat up all over again.

“No need for hostilities,” he responded, slyly. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright. I was worried.” he placed him hand over his heart in an attempt to make him look more genuine, but you could see right through him.

This guy’s bullshit smells worse than Jungkook’s sweaty gym socks.

“Oh, I’m sure you were,” you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the wall. “I appreciate the kind gesture, but if you could be so kind as to leaving me alone, that’d be fabulous.” just as you were about to walk out of the alley and continue your path home, a hand grabbing your arm stopped you.

“Hey, wait a second!”

You felt that if you clenched your teeth any harder, your jaw would break.

“Let go of my arm.” It was taking everything in you to not rip this stranger a new one. You were completely on edge, frustrated to no end, and wanting nothing more than to go home and neutralize your nerves. It was rather obvious that your powers were based off your emotions, so now it was important to make sure you weren’t feeling too much negativity to cause serious damage.

The stranger didn’t listen and if you weren’t overheating before, you definitely were now. Your face felt extremely flushed and uncomfortable. Your ears were ringing like a hot tea kettle and your heart was pounding just enough for the constant thump to hurt and hinder your breathing in the slightest. You felt the sweat on the back of your neck slowly trickle down and settle at the small of your back and your hands felt just as clammy. Too focused on not maiming this annoying stranger, you didn’t even realize he was still talking until you forced yourself to stop paying attention to your body in hopes that would distract you long enough to get away.

“Well, let me at least get your numb-”

“No.”

He blinked at you, frowning and you leveled his gaze with yours, hoping the pupils weren’t engulfed in glowing white. “Let. Go.” your words were deadly calm, despite your mind screaming at you to just grab him and toss him into oncoming traffic. No need to get too violent.

Things were getting too dangerous now as you felt the palms of your hands start to burn and you looked, unclenching your fist to reveal red palms and small sparks dancing along the lines of your fingers.

The jerk continued to stare at you before his frown turned to a scowl and his grip on your arm tightened to the point it kind of hurt. The feeling of anger and fear quickly unlocked your fight or flight instinct and you were soon swinging your hand up to smack him across the face. Short and simple to allow you time to get away, or so you thought.

What you didn’t expect was for him to catch your wrist and twist it, rendering you unable to use your hands and for your heart rate to kick up like it just took eight shots of pure caffeine. Natural instinct along with your powers kicked in like no tomorrow, and soon you found yourself kneeing the guy in the groin a little too hard, effectively making him release one of your hands. Not taking into account of how hot your palms were, you brought butt of your palm up and into his chin, knocking him off his feet and releasing your other hand.

His cry of pain would have been satisfying had you not been freaking out so badly, seeing the blistering red mark on his chin and neck. You had burned him.

Bringing your palm up to your cheek, you hissed at how hot your hand was, trying and failing to calm your breathing as you turned and hauled ass out of the alley, knocking into some people as you went. Your mind was working overtime, making sure to not use too much of your enhanced speed, yelling at you to use more of your agility so you wouldn’t bulldoze anyone else down, and making sure to not think too much in fear of triggering your elemental powers.

This was all just too much. You could hear every car horn, every heartbeat of the people you passed, vision blurring and focusing on all the wrong things, ears ringing, hands burning. Too much. Too much. Too much.

It’s a wonder how you managed to make it to your door in one physical piece while your mind felt like it was going to implode on itself.

~~~

Taking the door off its hinges would have been impressive to Seokjin, had he not seen the state you were in as you walked through the threshold. There you stood, the disconnected door in your hand, your chest heaving up and down like you had just run a marathon, and sweat dripping down your temple and onto your neck. Your eyes looked cloudy, unable to focus on anything and if Jin had looked closer, he would have saw the rapid movement of your pupils shrinking and dilating in a desperate attempt to lock on something without your vision blurring seconds later.

“. . . (Y/n)?” Standing from his spot on the couch, he stepped into your line of sight and your heart began to pound even louder in your ears as you saw him getting closer.

His lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a single word. The sound of your erratic heart beat was driving you insane. Everything was too loud, too hot and Jin was suddenly way too close to you, reaching out to try and grab your hand that was most certainly hot enough to burn him. “No!” you snatched your hand away, cradling it to your chest. Jin held his hands up in surrender, moving slowly so as not to startle you too much.

“Give me your hand,” he stated, softly making sure to not extend his hand too fast. He looked on patiently as he watched you frantically shake your head. “No, I-I’ll burn you. I can’t- I just- I don’t-” Moving away from him you began pacing back in forth, rubbing at your face as if the skin agitated you.

“God, everything is too hot!” you screamed, before your clothes abruptly burst into flames. Seokjin screeched, jumping back so as not to get burned, staring in disbelief as you just . . . stood there as the fire ate away at your clothes, until there was nothing left, leaving you as naked as the day you were born. You were scared, so scared to the point that you didn’t care about the fact that you were standing stark naked in front of Jin, or the fact that anyone in the hallway could literally walk past and see you as well.

Looking up, Jin saw the way your lip trembled, saw the way tears formed at the brim of your eyes, saw the way your hands shook. The shaky breath that was exhaled from your lips made his heart break, watching as the first tear streaked down your cheek, followed by another and then another until you crumbled down on your knees, your face buried into your hands, sobs wracking your entire body.

Jin watched on, shocked into silence by the sudden outburst before his face softened into a look of sympathy. He cautiously made his way over to you with the same carefulness you would give to a frightened deer. He lowered himself down until he was on his knees in front of you, regarding the way your shoulders shook and how you were trying and failing to even out your breaths. Lifting his hand up, he intended to grab your wrist, but because of your enhanced senses, you were able to flinch away from him. You were still too hot.

Softly calling out your name was met with no reaction, but he knew you heard him. You didn’t want to look at him. You were scared and ashamed, the events of today felt like they spanned an entire week. You were so tired. So when Jin called out to you again, you peeled your hands away from your face and was struck with the sheer ethereal beauty that was Kim Seokjin. You were awestruck.

Going for a different approach, he simply held his hand out to you, giving you the choice of whether you would take his hand or not. You stared at his hand as if it were some sort of foreign object before looking back up at his face and shaking your head. “No,” you whispered, fresh tears streaking down the (s/c) skin of your cheeks. “I’ll burn you.”

“No, you won’t.” Was his delicate reply. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and comfort the tears away. Whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you were finally able to feel okay again. But he knew that if he did that right now, things would only erupt into chaos. Baby steps.

“I trust you, (Y/n).”

Looking back up at his face, studying his features, focusing on him. Only him. He was there for you and your heart began to beat faster. Taking a deep breath, you looked back at his awaiting hand, slowly extending yours. Pulling back when you felt his skin against yours, only to realize he hadn’t flinched away from you. You knew your skin was hot, probably even unbearably hot, but he didn’t show any signs of discomfort other than a slight clenching of his jaw.

After he helped you stand up, he still held onto your hand as he led you into the bathroom, gently guiding you into the bathtub before sitting down behind you. Had you been more clear in the head, you would have asked him why he was still in his clothes.

Leaning forward, he turned the water to cold, watching as it pooled around you both, looking on in disbelief as the water immediately began to evaporate as soon as it hit your skin. He then turned on the shower head, feeling the cold water cascade over the both of you, hearing you sigh in relief and watching your tensed body finally relaxing. You leaned back into his touch as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, rubbing the skin in soothing circles. Reaching up, you grabbed his hands, squeezing them gratefully and relaxing into his chest.

You stayed like that for a while; in complete silence with cold water flowing down from the tops of your head to the tips of your toes. Rubbing at each others knuckles, as a way to acknowledge one another without having to actually say anything. You’ve never been this intimate with him or either of the boys before, letting him cuddle in the bathtub with you, let alone him seeing you naked. Sure there would be relaxing sessions on the couch while watching a movie, but for it to get this far, was truly mind boggling. You were much more comfortable around other women, it seemed much more natural to be intimate around them, granted this did feel nice and it was helping you calm your nerves that just moments before made you take out an entire door. These past few days have been absolutely insane.

You remembered what the boys had said; if you didn’t want the powers and responsibility anymore, all you had to do was wish them away. But even as you think about the events that occurred today, and the similar events that might occur in the future, you realize that you still wouldn’t give up these powers. What kind of impression would you have of yourself if you just gave up just because some days are harder than most. You wouldn’t be able to look at yourself if you gave up so easily. You had to keep fighting.

You both stayed in the tub until you had finally cooled down and started shivering from the cold water. Stepping out of the tub, you turned to Jin, only to see his clothes completely soaked. You looked at him curiously but he only smiled at you before beginning to peel his shirt off.

Eyes, widening and face reheating, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes trained on his face and damn near popped a blood vessel when he looked at you and smirked. He even had the audacity to wink at you. Good to know his playful attitude was intact. Huffing out a breath, you crossed your arms over yourself to try and keep yourself warm. The thought of trying to use your powers to regulate your body heat sounded absolutely atrocious with how you were so mentally tired, so you opted for the old fashioned way. You turned to reach for a towel hanging on the rack just as Jin pulled his pants down, your heart rate picking up to match the speed of the flash. You felt another shiver run down your spine when you finally wrapped the towel around your body, a reminder that you were in fact freezing your ass off and needed to be put in some warm clothes immediately.

You felt like you were going to get whiplash with the way your body was trying to get used to your powers. First you were so angry to the point you burned your clothes off, and now, you were freezing to the point where you were desperate to have clothes back on. You grabbed another towel and turned back around to hand it to Jin, who had been staring at you intently, noticing the way your body reacted to the cool air. After grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his hips, he gently grabbed your hand and led you to his room. You were a little confused at first, wondering why he wasn’t leading you to your room so you could get dressed, but then realized that he might be letting you use his hoodie. You almost started skipping behind him in excitement as out of all the boys’ hoodies to steal, you loved stealing his.

There was something about Jin’s hoodies that were just extra cozy. If he had noticed your change in demeanor, he didn’t comment on it as he opened his door to his room and let you in first. Walking in, you immediately sat yourself down on his bed, hugging the towel close around your chest to keep it from falling and awkwardly crossing your ankles in an attempt to appear more casual. You dropped one of your hands to run it along his comforter. It felt warm and soft and it caused goosebumps to travel along your arms and legs due to the texture against your palm. As your hand glided back and forth against the blanket, you wondered how you were going to explain this entire situation to Jin and the rest of the boys without them thinking that giving you these powers was a mistake.

Hey guys, I quit my job by breaking my boss’ nose because he wouldn’t stop groping me and while I was walking home, some creep tried to hit on me and I ended up burning him after he tried to grab me. Oh and also, we need to look into getting a new door because I accidentally hulked out on it trying to get into the apartment, and I spontaneously combusted because I was in the middle of a panic attack and Jin saw me naked! :D

Yeah that conversation is going to be... quite interesting. You internally cringed, wondering how you were going to muster up enough energy to even start that conversation.

Too lost in thought about the entire ordeal, you didn’t notice Jin rummaging through his drawers until he had set out a hoodie and pair of boxer briefs in front of you. The hoodie looked like it could swallow Jin whole, so you immediately knew that you would be swimming in the article of clothing before you even unfolded it. You were grateful for the size though because as soon as you had put it on, you were immediately engulfed in warmth and you exhaled as your cold body was finally able to start relaxing.

Jin smiled at you as you attempted and failed to get rid of the sweater paws that were forming around your hands and led you back out to the living room. By now, the sun was close to setting and the door to the hallway was still very much laying on the floor instead of being on it’s hinges. You groaned as you sat down on the couch, Jin sitting down next to you and setting your legs on his lap.

After a few beats of silence with Jin massaging the muscles of your calves and you fiddling with the hem of the hoodie, you finally looked up to see him looking at you. “How are you feeling?” he asked, searching your face for any distress. You opened your mouth out of instinct, ready to deliver your answer as if you were on autopilot.

“I feel fine.”

He raised his eyebrow at you, telling you that he didn’t believe you for a second. “Come on, (Y/n), we know you better than anyone. You can’t lie to us. You can’t lie to me.” Gently grabbing your chin and making him look at you made you puff out a breath. Rolling your eyes, you moved away from his hand and leaned back against the couch.

“I don’t- I mean, I don’t really know where to start,” you shrugged your shoulders, trying to rack your brain for the right words to say. “I broke my boss’s nose because he kept trying to advance on me even after I said I wasn’t interested. He kept saying that my “no” was secretly a “yes”. He wanted the chase, it was all like some fucking game for him. I told him no again, and when he grabbed my arm, I punched him in the face.”

Jin nodded, listening intently and waiting for you to continue. You wanted to leave it at that, but you knew he wouldn’t let up until you had gotten everything off your chest. “I walked out after we had yelled at each other. I had some pretty.... unique parting words for him, but then I was walking home and I was just so angry and everything was suddenly heating up and going in and out of focus. So I stepped aside to try and calm myself down, but then this guy tried to hit on me. He was so creepy, and he had grabbed me, but I had burned his face. I just-” you didn’t realize how you were still worked up about the situation as you choked on your words.

“I was just so scared that I would hurt someone innocent and I was so angry I couldn’t even see straight which made me even more scared and I just wanted to get home but then that happened,” you gestured towards the broken door and sniffled, not realizing you had started crying again. Luckily your body seemed too exhausted to overheat and you were grateful when Jin pulled you into his lap and held you close.

Burying your face into his neck, you let out the tears you had been holding back all day, finally being able to let your body sag after all the tension was released. Jin soothingly rubbed your back, pulling you to face him after you had finished letting everything out, and wiping away at the tears that slid down your cheek. Your face and eyes probably looked puffy from all the crying and you felt like you looked crazy, but it had only made Jin fall in love with you more, letting him see you be so vulnerable and being able to comfort you.

He kept his hand on your cheek and watched as you leaned into his touch closing your eyes and sighing. When you were able to stabilize your breathing, you finally opened your eyes and were once again struck by the pure beauty that was Kim Seokjin.

“You truly are beautiful, Seokjin,”

You could have cringed at the way your voice whispered those words, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to nitpick the way you sounded right now. You felt your ears begin to burn after he had remained silent, too lost in your self doubt to see how red his ears and cheeks were turning. You went to move off of his lap, intent on going to your room to lay down, but were stopped when you felt his hand on your cheek become firm to keep you in place. He took a second to look at you, from you (h/l (h/c) hair, to the way you hiccupped trying to recover from crying so much, to the redness that surrounded your (e/c) eyes to the way left over tear streaks smeared on you (s/c) skin. He felt like he had spent thousands of years with you as well.

“I know,”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter even if you wanted to. Your body shook with the force of your laugh. Burying your face in his neck again, you let his laugh fill your ears while you felt his hands massaging your back and leg. You stayed like that for a while, the only noise filling the room being your occasional sniffle and the little hitch in the shakiness of your breath from still trying to recover from your crying session. You still felt upset and you had no doubt that one small thing could possibly trigger another crying session, but right now, you were content with keeping your thoughts empty and just listening to the sound of Jin’s heart beating clearly in your ears.

You were close to dozing off in his lap when he finally spoke up, making you tune out of your little bubble.

“For what it’s worth, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve laid my eyes on,” You couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not, so you sat up to look at his face again. After examining his face, you still couldn’t tell if he was being serious, so you snorted and playfully smacked his chest. “Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes. “Don’t try to pull that on me after you’ve been alive for over a thousand years, mister.”

You giggled a little and he smiled at you, cupping your cheek again, forcing you to look at his face and your giggling to fade. “There is no one who is as incredible as you, (Y/n). You are truly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever encountered.”

You were at a complete loss for words, gaping at him. You felt your ears heat up, wondering if the pounding you heard was his heart or yours. Noticing him staring at you intently, you also noticed his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips constantly but you felt stuck. You were way too scared to just lean forward and connect your lips, even though you’ve always dreamed about what those pillows for lips would feel like against your own. You got lost in thought once again thinking about how unfair it was for this man to have such luscious lips, it should be a crime.

Too far gone in your own thoughts, you barely noticed Jin leaning close to you, up until his nose brushed yours and he stopped. Both of your eyes were closed, yours being closed out of fear that you might spontaneously combust, his being closed in fear that this might be a dream. You’ve dreamed about this moment for so long, wondering if he was waiting for you to make the call of whether you’re going to press your lips against his or pull away.

Releasing one shaky breath, you decided to throw caution to the wind and lean forward. Your lips brushed against each other for no more than a second, pulling away for a moment and searching his face, only to find him staring at you as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world. You took that as a sign to lean back in, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips more firmly onto his. The feeling of his lips against yours could easily be something to become addicted to, as you felt his hands trail down your back, causing you to shiver while they settled on your hips.

You wanted to deepen the kiss, so you opened your mouth and swiped your tongue on his bottom lip. That must have triggered something in him, because he trailed his hands down from your hips to grip your ass and squeeze, which caused you to yelp, and for him to push his tongue deeper into your mouth.

Out of all the ways you had thought this day would end, french kissing one of the men you’ve been in love with for months definitely did not cross your mind. But you couldn’t really complain when Jin shifted his hips up and you got a very.... detailed feel of him. The whimper that left your lips could have brought any man down to his knees, and Jin contemplated on whether he should start moving your hips against his or if that might overwhelm you too much.

Your body had started moving on its own accord as you began moving your hips against his, feeling his groan against your mouth. You kept moving your hips, getting worked up at the feeling of him against you and the sounds leaving his mouth, until it had all began to feel like a little too much and the clothes you were wearing began to feel too stuffy. So, against your better judgment, you began to slow your hips down, pressing one more tender kiss against his lips before pulling away.

He searched your face for any sign of discomfort and when you had clarified that it was just you getting a little too excited, he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “It’s okay,” he gently reassured you when you went to bury your face in his neck again. It was beginning to become a favorite spot of yours. “We go at your pace, no matter how fast or slow that might be.”

You didn’t think you could love this man any more, and yet here you were constantly being proven wrong. It didn’t take long for you to finally doze off, with the events that happened, you were surprised you hadn’t just collapsed as soon as you got home. You were lulled to sleep by Jin’s comforting hand rubbing your back, his lips on your forehead and his heart beat in your ears.

He was finally able to relax his tensed body when he felt your body release all the tension that had built up, closing his eyes and almost dozing off himself, until he heard footsteps walking toward the apartment.

“What happened to the door?!”

A/N

Alright, so this chapter is very long overdue. I’m pretty sure I started this story back when my senior year of highschool began and now I just recently finished my freshman year of college. I either couldn’t find the time or motivation to try and finish the chapter but I’m glad I finally did. That being said, I can’t be too sure when the next chapter is going to be, but I hope you stick around nonetheless!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know what you think! your feedback is always welcomed!

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 3 years ago

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Game Master Akuma AU by crisisdparity

Xavier Duchamp was rather proud of himself. What he had before him was an absolute masterpiece of a campaign if he did say so himself. The product of over six months of study, research, and rebalancing efforts followed by two weeks of discussion with his five players to hash out schedules, meeting times, characters, backstories, potential character arcs, and getting them set up with a messaging app that was really good for sending discrete messages between the GM and the players. Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he’d greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively. Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item’s stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia. Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug. Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt’s history with characters dying) and he’d even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt’s usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with. Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history. He’d put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He’d carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign. In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he’d made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one. Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn’t need it anymore. —– It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app. Matt/Chat - Chat’s going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily. Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I’d advise, but it’s your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now. Matt/Chat - <photo> 17 Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone’s passive Perception easily. You’ll sneak off handily without anyone noticing. —– “Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple.” “Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?” Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt. “19.” “Okay, difficult, but not undoable… Crap.” “What’d you get?” “Nat 1…” “Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!” “Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!” “Because it’s payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish

campaigns!” “Oh, come on! You’re not the only person whose had a character die at this table! <GM> runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they’re always fair!” “What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?” “Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp.” “14!” “Not much better, dude.” “Guys, it’s fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-” “Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece.” “The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound.” “So does Carapace.” “Vesperia too.” “-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you’re all using the Dash action?, you’ve got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they’re all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this.” “Rena screams ‘What the HELL, Chat?! We’re supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn’t you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!’” “Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!” There was dead silence at the table. “Matt… What… just… WHAT?!” “Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?!” “What the hell is your problem, Matt?!” “My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I’ve spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!” “Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!” “I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY’RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!” “THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!” “NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN’T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I’M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!” “MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!” “Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time…” “It’s going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least.” Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour. He’d given so much to making sure this would work. He’d apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He’d agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he’d pull something like this. He’d nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else’s. They’d somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They’d meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening. It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he’d slaved over for months was kaput. He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it. “Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things.” This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he’d ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel. “Not

enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts.” He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he’d spent so much time on to life… What creator could ever turn down an offer like that? “I, the Game Master, accept… Hawkmoth.” “Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders.” “No.” Hawkmoth was silent for a moment. “I beg your pardon?” “I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself.” “If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you.” “No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me.” And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence. —– Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn’t remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn’t usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo. Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her. She looked up. And up. To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her. “How’s the weather down there?” Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique. “I WILL END YOU!” the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up. Characters: Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew) Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast) —– Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope. She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn’t for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she’d have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings. Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she’d have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her. “You know, people are staring…” she said as she craned her head to look at her companions. “Let them,” the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. “They’re just jealous because their boyfriends can’t carry them everywhere.” Characters: Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout) Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour) Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) —– Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin. She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she? And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor? Characters: Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party) Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew) —– Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she’d freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she’d come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable. It might help more if she could figure out where she was. Or find another person. Characters: Polymouse - Kobold

(rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned) —– Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance. “Are you quite done?” “Almost!” Pigella’s cheerful voice answered. “Your fur is so comfy!” Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels. “I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen’ I will stick you in a bottle.” “Aw, I love you too! Hey, what’s that?” “I think it’s my character sheet?” Characters: Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory) Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned) —– “According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules,” Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. “I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master.” “Aweshum,” King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk’s robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him. “Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water.” “Gotta keep up appearanshes!” King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness. Characters: Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned) King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master) —– Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he’d never felt before. “Hmm… perhaps I can work with this…” “Speak for yourself…” Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face. Characters: Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others. Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters —– “Oh, come on!” A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. “Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can’t I join them?” “Because you’re too OP. You’d completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure.” “But sitting around is no fun at all!” “If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger.” “That’s it?! I’m on 'mysterious hooded figure’ duty? Boo! Why can’t I fight with them?!” “Because you’re too OP. But if you insist, I’ll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions.” “YES!” “Five.” “I’m sorry?” “I’ll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information.” “That’s it?” “Yes. Choose your interventions wisely.” “So… if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle…?” “Then I would allow you to join them of course.” “Score!” Characters: Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5) Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign —– Addendum When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it’s basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back. All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt’s place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he

has a similar playstyle to Matt, he’s savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians. They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

—-

oh wow- that’s- wow. good job dude, seems like you worked on this a lot. Next time You should post this on your own account though, as this isn’t getting tagged or anything. Thank you though, you did a good job with this.

#submission

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delimeful · 4 years ago

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WIBAR Intermission: New Friends

winner of the first july patreon poll! thanks to @legendsgates for allowing me to sneak in a brief cameo of their alien species, cetarfreka!

previous intermission episode | start of WIBAR

warnings: violence, fear, tension, ptsd episodes, injury mention, being held hostage, misunderstandings, deception

It was about halfway through their trading circuit that the vidcomm from the Mindscape popped up.

Remyy perked up instantly, Patton’s distinctive singsong voice clear even from half across the main bay. They dropped to their feet and tucked all their wings tight against them to signal that anyone in the way should swiftly get out of the way. Those in the bay who knew them cast strange glances in their direction as they hop-skittered across the floor.

Remyy couldn’t blame them; this was probably the fastest they’d moved all week. They usually maintained a much more casual demeanor for the sake of their reputation, but in this case...

“Patton! Babes, you’re really okay!”

“Remyy!” The Ampen fluffed up, a pleasant glow filling the room around him, face pinching up happily.

In this case, exceptions would be made.

The Obrxyx currently managing the comms sighed at them, unimpressed. “You have this one, then?”

“Sure do,” Remyy drawled, still leaning between xem and the monitor so that half their face took up the comm screen. “We go way back, I’ll get them docked.”

They waited impatiently for xem to move to a different comm terminal, adjusted the seatpad so they could be seen properly through the comm, and promptly started complaining. “I can’t believe you guys, holing up in that rinky dink ship for so long with only voice calls to tell everyone that you were okay! Where’s the gossip? Why in the universe would you keep it from me?”

Patton’s hands jerked, and the comm screen wobbled, blurring his expression strangely for a moment. Remyy tilted their goggles slightly for a better angle, but by the time the mobile communicator stabilized, any change in demeanor had vanished.

“Be careful, Rem,” Patton said teasingly, “it almost sounds like you care about us or something.”

“Funny,” Remyy replied dryly, “I’ll have you know that I’ve just been missing Logan’s high quality deathbrew, none of that sentimental garbage.”

Patton laughed at them silently with his gaze alone. Innocent, naive Ampen, their ass.

“Are we cleared to dock y-- Is that Remyy?” Another voice from offscreen dropped abruptly into horror, and Remy’s eyes narrowed in gleeful amusement.

“It sure is, gurl,” they called, “and the Remyy in question seems to recall a certain bet that was never paid up on. 30 cenals, cough ‘em up.”

There was a loud groan, and then a thump that shook the comm slightly. Patton spent a moment staring at something with a confused frown, and then seemed to get it, nodding. He turned back to them very seriously.

“Sorry, Roman can’t come to the comm right now,” he informed them. “He, uh, died. Very recently. And tragically."

Belatedly, he put on a sad expression, antennae drooping. Remyy raised their eyebrows, unimpressed.

“Uh huh. Well, I suppose I’ll just have to join in on the funeral rites once I get down to help carry the goods over, huh--?”

“No!” The voices of both his friends overlapped, making the comm audio fuzz harshly for a moment. Remyy’s secondaries flared slightly, taken aback at the vehemence.

“Uh, I mean, we don’t have that much,” Patton hurried to patch up the awkward pause. “How about we meet you in the docking lobby instead? You can get Roman’s credits there.”

“Hey!”

Remyy’s ears angled back with displeased confusion, but they acquiesced anyhow. “Hurry up, then. And make sure Logan brings my brew!”

Whatever it was they were hiding, Remyy was sure they’d be able to weasel it out of them in no time.

---

After grabbing a short meal and a boring haggling session between the Mindscape’s crew and the cargo manager of the Starwinder, Remyy finally got to learn about what had happened to Patton during his disappearance.

It wasn’t pretty.

Their senspatches felt dry at the mere thought of Patton stripped of his coat and forced to starve because of it. It was beyond lucky that the remaining two of the trio managed to find and free the Ampen from the harvesters before it was too late. If anyone could do it, though, they believed this crew could.

Patton had grown quieter and less fluffy throughout the course of the tale, with Roman and Logan taking turns delivering a well-practiced explanation of the events. Seeing as these were extenuating circumstances, Remyy submitted to cuddles just this once, allowing the small alien to bury his face in the folds of their leathery armwings.

They took a moment once the story was over, casually and completely unintentionally folding more of their wing over Patton. “That bites, babes.”

“Yeah.” The Ampen hummed in response, mouth pinched strangely. “I… I’m really grateful that I got help when I did.”

Logan set a careful hand on Patton’s back, though the motion almost came across as less comforting and more… cautioning? Remyy’s senspatches flared up slightly as they tried to read more into the situation.

Before they could really investigate, though, Roman was leaning forwards and grabbing the edge of their arm to get their attention.

“Remyy. We’ve been having something of an adjustment period. Drop it, please?”

They flickered their ears at him dismissively, but really… looking at the small crew, they could see a sort of wariness reflected in their stiff posture, the way the three of them constantly cast glances back to the dock hall that would lead to their ship. Trying to make sure they had a quick exit. Whatever the details of their experience, it was stressing them out to lay it all out in the open like this. Remyy could understand that.

“Fine, whatever,” they sighed, sipping at the bitter brew Logan had thoughtfully provided. “I suppose I’ll keep my awe-inspiring ability to root out interesting tidbits to myself for now. I can just grill Lo later.”

The three friends slumped in relief, and Remyy turned their face away slightly to allow them some privacy to recover. They probably wouldn’t appreciate it, that was mostly an Elimtran thing, but it was the effort that counted. They cast about for some other topic to distract. What else had they heard about lately… oh!

“Have you all heard the stories about the rogue Human going around lately?”

There was spluttering, and they turned back to see Roman seemed to have inhaled mid-drink, and was now muffling coughs into his shoulder. Patton studiously avoided eye contact as he patted the Cravon sympathetically. Logan shifted one arm out from where they were politely tucked away, looking intensely intrigued. Strange, he wasn’t usually one for gossip.

“We have not,” he stated, hands twitching in preparation for his thought weaving thing. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“Uh, duh,” they replied, trying not to think too much on the rather extreme reaction. If the crew was really so stressed, it made sense that news of a Human would freak them out. Shit, they sucked at this. Gathering information would make them feel more secure, yeah? “It’s been circulating at some of the more shady ports we’ve been to, rumors that a small-tier smuggling ring recently managed to rise through the ranks just because they got their hands on a Human and knew how to use it to their advantage. That much is like, okay, horrifying to know that there’s still Humans out there in the outer ranges, but whatever, it’s under lock and key.”

Patton clung to their wing tighter. They paused, deliberating on whether or not to continue.

“I assume, going by the fact that you called h-- it a ‘rogue’ Human, that's not the case anymore?” Logan supplied, waving for them to proceed.

“Well, yeah. Apparently, it tore through practically half the group members before escaping, and now people are reporting cases of a bloodthirsty Human all over this quadrant. Not that the calls are accurate. It’s just hearsay,” they made sure to add. “It might just be someone trying to work the local governs into a panic, put pressure on the Council for this or that political maneuver.”

Logan didn’t respond for a concerning amount of time. “Right. Of course, that is plausible. Still, thank you for the information, Remyy. We will… keep it in mind.”

Remyy sunk lower in their seat, regretting bringing the topic up at all. “Mm. You do that, babes. Remember the stats, too. There’s a warrant out. Sooner or later, the Council will probably find whoever’s at the source of the rumors and put them to rights, Human or not.”

“That’s… great,” Roman got to his feet abruptly. “I think maybe we should head out soon. We’ve got that next landing to prep for, after all. Holmao isn’t known for its gentle terrain.”

“What?” Remyy’s secondaries flared slightly as they stood up too, abandoning their drink and dislodging Patton. “You just got here! Aren’t you at least going to catch a night’s rest? No offense to your ship, but the arti-grav ain’t exactly stellar.”

“That’s why we need to do more jobs! Save up for better arti-grav installation, right guys?” Roman’s voice seemed slightly frantic. Remyy suddenly remembered what little history the Cravon had shared with them, and swore mentally. They really, really shouldn’t have brought up the Human.

“Ro, look, I’m so--”

Their voice abruptly cut off as a cool line of metal pressed between their wings, right against their life vein. They saw as Roman’s eyes locked on something behind them, scales rising to a prickling stand quicker than they’d ever witnessed before.

“Nobody move,” a voice behind them called in clear, precise Common. “Or you get to bleed out right after this one.” The flat of the blade pressed harder against their back, and they couldn’t stop their ears from flattening completely in terror.

“Let them go,” Roman demanded, halfway to a snarl. Before he could even take a step, though, more armed strangers were swarming into the lobby, barking orders for the few other people currently in the room to get down. Expression dark, Roman held his arms out in a gesture of compliance, though his scales continued to stick out in a defensive bristle.

Raiders, it had to be. Remyy knew they knew the reptilian symbol that was engraved in each of the strangers black masks, but they couldn’t remember the group’s name for the fear flooding their mind, keeping them frozen in place.

One of them kicked Patton clear away from Remyy’s legs, and the Ampen let out a short shriek of pain before clapping his hands over his mouth. The raider behind Remyy laughed, apparently unconcerned about any alarms being raised, but Remyy was more focused on the way the Mindscape crew exchanged panicked glances, Logan kneeling next to Patton and subtly signing something in Crav’n.

“Now, here’s how this is going to work.” The one behind Remyy gestured with their other hand, which Remyy could now see was holding a paralyzer. Raiders were known for using them to get information, since most aliens could take a few shots from one before succumbing to the pain. “You’re all going to line up against the wall while we search your vessels, and in exchange, nobody has to die, got it?”

Remyy could only look straight ahead, so they got a clear view of Patton’s furious glow dimming down to horrified in an instant at the leader’s words. Whatever the three of them were hiding, it was hidden on their ship, and apparently not well enough.

They ran their tongue along their teeth for a moment, debating, and then wiggled their ears slightly, loosening the grip their goggles had until they were slipping down their face slightly. Only their upper eyes were exposed, but with any luck, it would be enough.

It wasn’t long till they managed to make eye contact with a nearby raider; the leader was the one giving orders, after all, and they were being held hostage by said leader, so it made sense that eyes would stray in their direction.

The moment they locked gazes, Remyy flickered their pupils and let their senspatches slowly pulse. The raider took a moment to bob their head in confusion before becoming visibly more relaxed, and Remyy didn’t waste any time. 'Circle around and attack the one holding me.'

The raider swayed slightly for a moment before moving to obey, a side effect of not being exposed to the full hypnotic effect of their eyes, and Remyy had a moment to feel hopeful that maybe they could actually pull this off.

“Grahh’m, what are you-- Oh, you little shit,” the leader spat, moments before a strike to the side of Remyy’s head had them seeing stars. They heard Roman growling furiously, still forced to the ground under threat of gunfire, and hoped that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. He wouldn’t be any use if he was convulsing from pain.

“I should have known better than to leave an Elimtra awake and armed, hmm?” The leader flipped them to their back, pressing a knee to their chest and crushing their secondaries uncomfortably against the floor. A moment later, their other hand was shoving their goggles harshly back over their face.

Remyy gagged slightly as all the air was forced from their lungs. “Probably should’ve, ye-- eah,” they replied, struggling to inhale again.

“Funny.” There was a glint of silver uncomfortably close to their eyes. The knife. Remyy regretted the snark. They regretted the snark so much.

The leader paused. “Oren, is it the eyes or the little spots under them that do the hypnotizing, do you recall?”

There was a pause, in which ‘Oren’ seemed to have no answer, and Remyy realized with a chill just what was being threatened. The leader considered them for a moment, and then pulled their dark mask further up to cover more of their face.

“I suppose I’ll just get rid of both, hmm?” The knife wavered closer.

Across the room, there was a loud crash, and a strangled yell that cut off as quick as it started. Remyy watched as the leader’s head jerked up, and saw the moment that the severe frown on their face abruptly transformed into utter terror. Hurriedly, the raider stood back up, and they were pulled up along, shoved in front of them like a shield.

It didn’t take long to see why. Across the lobby, near the entrance to the dock halls, a tall, slender figure was holding the remains of what must have been a seatpad. The rest of it appeared to be lying crumpled along with the limp raider that had been closest to that entryway.

The whisper spread through the room as quick as any small-town rumor: Human.

The being was scanning the eerily-silent space, and when it reached the spot where the leader stood, accompanied by Remyy and friends, it’s lips curled up into a vicious snarl, teeth on full display. It moved forwards in a way Remyy could only describe as predatory, and the leader went tense behind them. “Stop that thing, now!”

One raider, either damn brave or damn stupid, charged right in, and received the rest of the seatpad to the skull for their efforts. Remy winced at the sound. This seemed to be the signal for the rest of the raiders to converge, and the room descended into pandemonium.

In the thick of it all, the Human-- for what else could it really be?-- continued to advance, unrelenting. It wasn’t as fast as some aliens Remyy had met, but it didn’t need to be. The way that it stalked through the room radiated threat like an oath, and when opponents did dare to stand in it’s way, the blows were vicious and crunching, often leaving splatters of residue on its skin.

Most frightening of all was the way it handled the paralyzers, which should have driven any creature with pain receptors to the floor. Each time a shot landed on the human, it would tear the spiked prongs out with a twitch and a grimace and just keep moving.

By the time the leader realized that a strategic retreat was long overdue, it was already far too close for comfort. Remyy heard a swear behind them, and then they were being shoved, hard.

They caught a glimpse of Roman moving, and then they found themself busy tripping directly into a Human’s warpath. So much for surviving this.

They folded their wingarms over their head in some paltry attempt at defense as they fell. There was a grunt, and then a hot grip on their shoulders, all-too-close to the base of their secondaries and stars above were they going to have their glider wings torn clear off--?

“‘Scuse me,” the Human muttered in Common, and then lifted Remyy clear off the ground, easy-as-you-please, and set them down to the side. It brushed past them, heading straight towards Roman and the others, and Remyy stared after it.

Rather than continue after the leader, who had been thoroughly pinned by Roman and was currently swearing viciously, the Human stopped in front of Logan and Patton and dropped to a crouch. Remyy jerked forward, but neither of their friends seemed keen to jump away or defend themselves. In fact, Patton looked to be carefully headbutting the Human’s chest, and Logan was speaking in low, comforting tones. Even stranger, the Human seemed to be listening.

The circuits connected in their mind, illuminating a truly outlandish conclusion.

They whistled lowly, drawing all the attention in the room to them. “Listen up, babes. As a subsect representative of the Council, I’m authorized to do my thing here, so I’m gonna need everyone to follow my directions.”

“Remyy, what?” Roman asked, and was thoroughly ignored. A nearby Cetarfris protested from where they were practically pressed halfway up the wall, red eyes wide and patterned tail thrashing in terror.

“Are you genuine? Do you not see the Human right there?”

Remyy clicked their tongue in reproach. “Gurl, do I not have enough eyes for you or somethin’? I will handle the Human. What else is the Council good for?”

“Uh, governing?” someone else muttered. Remyy ignored them, too.

“I need all the raiders that haven’t already jetted in holding cells immediately. I’m sure there’ll be a hefty reward for members of this particular gang, even if they’re small fries, so anyone who pitches in can get some of that bounty. And remember, keep your mouths shut about this unless you want to be up to your orifices in paperwork at best. If you have to gossip, keep names out of it or I'll know who snitched.” Remyy shifted their goggles up on their forehead, turning to the Human and ignoring the thick tension in the room. “I’ll escort the Human to proper captivity. Roman, Logan, Patton, with me.”

As expected, the mere fact that the Mindscape crew were accompanying seemed to put the Human at ease, even if just slightly. Now, came the bit that would make or break the lie. They moved forwards slowly and reached out for the Human’s shoulder, tugging slightly at it as though this wasn't the creature that had just plowed through a band of raiders like they were dust in the wind. “C’mon, babes.”

After a pause, the Human followed. The relief in the room was palpable, and Remyy was no exception. They liked a good bet as much as the next guy, but generally preferred when there weren’t so many lives at stake.

See, the thing about being a species that was somewhat infamous for their hypnotic abilities was that everyone assumed you were using them, even if you weren’t. This tended to lean more in the direction of being a bad thing, but in this case, it helped Remyy tremendously, as nobody cast a second glance at them as they guided the docile Human through the lobby.

That might also have been because nobody wanted to be in the same room as a rogue Human for very long, but such was the way of things. Small details.

Soon enough, they reached the dock halls, and Remyy swiftly led the four of them onboard the Mindscape. They closed and locked the connecting port after them, and resisted the urge to collapse in relief.

Instead, they turned around to assess the rest of this mess.

It was quite a scene, and at first, they seemed too busy amongst themselves to even notice Remyy.

The Human was curled in on themself in one corner, looking pallid and ill, but also coiled so tightly it looked like they were one wrong word from fleeing the quadrant. Positioned firmly in front of them, Roman was audibly rattling from head to tail, moving on automatic as he bodily prevented the other two from approaching. Remyy would have thought the gesture was for the Human’s sake if not for the way Roman angled his own body, like he expected to be attacked from behind at any moment.

“It’s not safe,” he uttered over and over, gaze haunted. “It’s not safe. You have to hide.”

Patton warbled in wordless distress, and Logan gave up on trying to pull Roman away, instead simply holding his ground and speaking to the Cravon, calm and firm.

“This isn’t then, Roman. We’re here, and that is Virgil, and he is not going to hurt us. We’re safe. We are on the Mindscape. We are safe. Observe the space around you. Can you tell me five things you see?”

Remyy waited unobtrusively as the two of them slowly coaxed Roman back into the present, bit by bit. When he hunched over to be closer to his shorter friends, Patton carefully grabbed his hand, rubbing small circles into it in a soothing gesture Remyy wasn’t familiar with. “You with us, Ro?”

Roman signed something with his other hand, too quick for Remyy to grasp, and Patton smiled, a bit sad. “We’re okay, but there’s a little bit of a situation going on with Remyy, remember?”

Roman glanced at them, and then to the Human, who was still vibrating violently. Remyy had thought it was barely restrained anger, at first, but the longer they watched, the more it seemed compulsive, more fearful than furious. It only increased as Roman’s attention fell heavy on him.

“I didn’t mean to,” the Human said, voice as shaky as the rest of him. “I swear, I-- I just heard Patton yell, and they had weapons, like-- I… I didn't want to hurt anyone. I’m sorry that I-- that I did. But you guys were in danger. I couldn’t just... leave you to that.”

He sounded almost resigned, like he was trying to plead his case but had already accepted deep down that it was pointless to fight his sentence. When Roman turned away from him, his thoughts only seemed to be confirmed, and his face dropped another shade as his gaze darted over to Remyy. He seemed apprehensive, not that Remyy could really blame him. Poor guy probably thought he was about to be surrendered to law enforcement.

“Remyy.” Roman’s voice sounded wrung out, and from Patton’s concerned expression, the Cravon probably didn’t normally force himself to speak after episodes like this. “Virgil isn’t-- He’s better here with us. He doesn’t... deserve to be subjected to the Council just because he decided to... to save us.”

The Cravon opened his mouth as though to say more, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he signed something short and planted himself in a sitting position in front and slightly to the side of the Human, even as his scales still shivered. ‘Virgil’ was staring at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Roman’s right!” Patton took the opportunity to jump in front of them like the universe’s smallest, cutest guardian angel, cloak and ruff fluffed up stalwartly. Most effective of all was the Ampen’s ‘I’m-not-mad-I’m-just-disappointed-at-your-life-choices’ look. “Virgil is part of our family, and I’ll fight you about it!”

The Ampen’s tiny glare wasn't nearly as alarming as the assessing look Virgil cast over them, like he thought Remyy was really going to try and fight Patton and was prepared to intervene. They resisted the urge to cast their lower eyes up in exasperation. Who would fight Patton? There was no reward, you’d just end up feeling bad. And also end up getting totally trashed by a Human, apparently.

As always, Logan was the one to get it first. He stepped forwards, extending a hand. “Before you take any legal action against our crew member, I’d like to see your Council identification.”

Remyy’s cheeks bunched up smugly as they stretched their armwings out in front of them casually. “That’s too bad, Brainiac, ‘cause I totally don’t have any.”

There was a brief pause. “What, you guys really thought I was some kind of narc?”

“You lied right to all those people’s faces?” Patton asked, somewhat aghast. Roman shot them a dirty look at the deception, but he also let all the tension leak out of him, so Remyy counted it as a win. Logan simply looked exasperated.

“Not completely. I’ve got connections to get their bounties called in quick, and I ‘handled’ the Human, didn’t I? It’s not my fault if they misinterpreted things.”

“This is all you’re going to do to… ‘handle’ me?” the Human asked, looking uncertain, a little suspicious, and even kind of bewildered. “Just… let me go? What’s the catch?”

They really did roll their eyes up this time. “Babes, I’m covering for you. Seeing as you literally just saved my beautiful face, and these losers vouch for you, I figure you can get some benefit of the doubt. Besides, I’m not done with you all just yet.”

The four of them studied Remyy with varying levels of wariness, and then confusion as the Elimtra strolled past them all to head further into the ship.

“If you think you’re going anywhere before you tell me all about how this whole situation came about, honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.”

#sanders sides #space au #wibar #ts remy #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #watch it burn and rust #wibar intermission #wibar int: nf #writing #my writing #im so tired... zzz #this is the first time ive ever written remy so please be nice #i had fun though ;w;#i cant think of any more tags i hope you guys enjoy!#zzz

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