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kaminobiwan · 4 years ago

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cannonball

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

summary: Throwing all caution out the window, Obi-Wan dives headfirst into a long awaited confession. At least, he tries to. The universe seems to leave an obstacle for him at every turn, but Obi-Wan is nothing if not persistent.

a/n: Oh my goodness, this has got to be my proudest piece. It was one of the victims of the incident™ and I had to rewrite the whole thing from scratch, but I actually think the final version came out better than the original! The title is inspired from the summary of my previous fic Indulgence, but this one is actually the cornerstone of all of my jedi!reader x Obi-Wan fics: every one of those has stemmed from this storyline idea that has been living in my head for so long. Suffice it to say this is THE fic that I have wanted to write from the beginning — my pièce de résistance, if you will.

I hope you enjoy :-) p.s. here's my taglist form

In all the years he’s known you, Obi-Wan swears he only ever started to lie to you during the Clone Wars.

In his defense, he’d been lying to himself, too. Forcibly crushing down his much-deeper-than-platonic favor for you in the hopes that it’d disappear, forgotten in his darkest recesses, was exhausting in more ways than one. One’s mind can only be dishonest with the heart for so long.

But after more than a year and a half into the fighting, he’d felt too many times the choking fear that he’d never see you again — be it because of his death or yours.

So he’d given up in repressing his emotions, and let himself feel. In the precious minutes of reprieve amidst the horrors of combat, sometimes the only thing that could console his jaded and war-torn soul was the memory of you.

He wonders how he managed to continue for as long as he did before allowing himself to consciously love — it was well into the conflict when he came to terms with it. If he closes his eyes, he can easily remember the exact moment.

Geonosis. His return to the forsaken planet.

The chaos of it all had been staggering. He’d barely been able to hear Cody’s warning before he was shot out of the sky, and the crash that claimed the lives of nearly everyone in the transport had been just the beginning of the hellscape he’d endured.

There was an instant where he’d been sure he was going to die on the field, seconds before the remainder of his battalion was about to be overrun.

He remembers the gunfire surrounding him, piercing the falling bodies of his men as he laid helpless and injured. Cody’s shouting amidst the mayhem. The stabbing pain of his ribs that had blackened the edges of his vision. The dirt that had caked his face and armor. The sheer amount of it had been maddening.

And yet, as the bugs had closed in around him and he’d forced himself to his feet to meet his imminent end, the only thing that had run through his mind was...you.

Your name, your face. The dissatisfaction at the fact that the last time he’d seen it, it’d been distorted, static and blue from the holo you’d shared with Master Unduli. The way you’d hidden a smile as she interrupted his competitive jeering with Anakin ahead of the battle.

At least he’d made you laugh, he’d thought, and with that, he’d ignited his lightsaber.

And then the reinforcements had come. And he’d been left to sink back down on shaking knees with the image of you burning in his brain until the concerned presence of Ahsoka materialized at his side.

He hadn’t had any time to process the stunning realization that he was in love with you. He’d scarcely had a second to gather himself before he was already spouting a revised attack plan to take the droid factory, reverting to autopilot the way he always did when he assumed his identity as a war general.

But the universe had seemed intent on not letting him escape it, regardless. Just days later, he’d saved your life — you’d arrived at Point Rain with Luminara only to be taken by the Geonosian queen to be turned into a mindless, shivering zombie.

“I still haven’t forgiven you for that, you know.” You’d chirped, while tapping his nose teasingly.

“What? The stunt with the worms? You know I wouldn’t have actually let it go up your nose.”

“No, for disobeying an order to fall back and leave us behind.”

His heart had clenched at your words. Never in a million years would he abandon you if he thought there was the smallest chance of saving you. He knew that, finally.

But the fear of losing the only life he’d ever known outweighed the fear of losing you, and he’d settled with yearning for you from afar. It would be enough, he’d convinced himself. He refused to burden you with the knowledge that he’d been pining helplessly for you for Force knows how long, and ruin the careers in the Order you’d both worked so hard to construct.

That was, until now.

Until he’d seen Satine Kryze again, after decades apart, and she’d declared her surviving affection for him from all those years ago, Anakin witnessing the whole thing. After he’d seen the weight of her unspoken truth upon her shoulders. And although he regretted that he couldn’t grant her the relief from her wanting, he’d resolved that he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days the same way — slowly being crushed by his own supression. Even if his feelings were unrequited.

So he’d decided that he’d tell you, Jedi Code be damned. He wouldn’t hold it in any longer.

As the Coronet docked on the landing pad where the Chancellor was waiting, he’d been jittery with anticipation. That, and disoriented from the events that had transpired on the way there. He’d blubbered uncharacteristically when Satine had caressed his face in farewell, Anakin watching delightedly at his back. Then, as he’d turned to find a speeder to make his way to you in the Temple, the universe had yet again toyed with him — you were there, appearing on the platform out of nowhere like a summoned spirit, but not making your way towards him.

No, you were walking straight towards Satine.

You didn’t seem to notice him or Anakin behind you, welcoming the Duchess with practiced cordiality and leading her to the airbus where the other Senators were boarding, glaringly obvious that you’d been assigned on escort duty. Obi-Wan held back a groan. Of all the Jedi.

Anakin had practically collapsed in hilarity, a hand heavy on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “The Force works in mysterious ways, Master,” he crowed. “I finally get that one.”

———

You’re perched high up on a viewing balcony of the Senate Chamber when he finds you, a little before Satine is set to address the Republic.

“You’re certainly off your game today,” you exhale an amused laugh as he skids to a stop, attempting to compose his appearance as he approaches you. “Anakin told me all about what happened on the Coronet en route to Coruscant.”

His blasted Padawan. Obi-Wan could strangle him.

“I didn’t teach him to gossip,” he grumbles, coming to stand beside you. He'd run the whole way here to catch you, but his rapid heartbeat isn’t from physical exertion. You’re as tranquil as ever, though, and your presence relaxes him despite.

You give a snort. “Maybe not intentionally. He definitely learned how to operate outside the lines of the Code by watching you.” He knows you’re poking fun at him, but his breath catches at the mention of the doctrine that dictates you both.

But he’s set on telling you. Today.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something similar.”

You turn to the Chancellor’s podium as his voice reverberates through the hall, but Obi-Wan’s hearing is fixed on you. “Of course, Obi, but it’ll have to wait until later. I think your friend is about to speak.”

He opens his mouth to reply, to bring your attention back to him, but you’re focused on the proceedings. He doesn’t like the jovial way you say friend, as if you’re almost happy about it, but he forces his gaze to follow yours as Satine begins her address.

Which, of course, goes terribly wrong. Because nothing seems to want to work out today.

Even your usually optimistic features are set with a grim expression as a testimonial from Satine’s own Deputy Minister slights her leadership, and the Senate turns against her. As her repulsorpod retreats from the center of the chamber, you cast concerned eyes towards him.

“Go,” you urge him, and he’s frozen between staying or leaving. “She needs you. I’ll buy you some time with the security detail.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to depart from your side, words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but he knows you’re right. He nods at you gratefully before chasing after Satine.

———

He tries again in the evening, while you’re between shifts of guarding the Duchess’ guest quarters.

“She seems...interesting,” you nod to the Mandalorian guard that passes by to take your post, speaking low enough that your conversation is relatively private. “She certainly had much to say about you.”

Obi-Wan wanted to scream. It seems everyone had been able to get you alone except for him. “I told you about that year on Mandalore after I came back,” he protests, and you shoot him a pitiful wink.

“Not the way she described it.”

Before he can demand just what Satine had let on, the sound of rapid footfalls draws both of your attention to the guard you’d greeted earlier. “Master Jedi! The Duchess is gone. We don’t know for how long.”

You curse lightly and rush down the hall to follow the Mandalorian, and Obi-Wan is about to do the same when his comm buzzes on his wrist.

He sighs in frustration. He knows exactly who it is.

———

After he’d relayed the untampered evidence to Padmé in time for the Senate convocation and Satine had been released from custody, Obi-Wan makes his way to your quarters in a determined stride. The past couple days were nothing short of a wild Bantha ride from start to finish, and he was tired of tiptoeing around you.

As he raises a shaking hand to knock outside your room, he stalls in a moment of fleeting hesitation. The impending metamorphose of your relationship nags at his brain, and he pauses. What he’s about to do will indelibly transform the dynamic between you, for better or for worse. It dawns on him that there won’t be any going back from this.

He hears your voice from a distant memory of late nights in the Temple gardens, basking in the light of the stars. Of course everything will change. Nothing can stop that.

So be it.

He stands as tall as he can manage, and knocks resolutely.

You open the door looking ready for bed, clad in a billowing camisole, face dewy from the refresher and hair still damp. He smiles at you as you open it wider. “Hello, Obi.”

He shuffles inside, meekly nodding in apology of his interruption. “I thought I’d come see you.”

Like routine, you’re already heating up a pot of water for him as you search for his favorite tea in your cupboard. Ever so thoughtful. His heart flutters beneath his robes. “I’m glad to see you found the Duchess,” you chime lightheartedly, “I had a hunch when you disappeared earlier.”

His hand finds the back of his neck. “I hope I didn’t make you look too bad, being on protection and all.”

You shake your head dismissively. “I was just glad to hear she was safe. You helped save her people from Republic occupation.”

Altruistic honesty radiates off of you, and his chest drops, in a good way. You care, and it’s written all over your actions.

You’re the best person he knows. Without question.

For a split second, Obi-Wan wonders if he even deserves you. But he pushes the thought in the back of his mind for later, hell-bent on not letting anything get in the way of what he wants to say.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

You face him fully, abandoning the tea as you take in the seriousness of his posture. He sucks in a stunted breath.

“It’s about —”

“I know.”

He startles, momentum lost as you interrupt him suddenly. Your gaze is penetrating. “What?” He asks dumbly.

“It’s about Satine, isn’t it?” Your bare arm comes up across your body to hold the other, and Obi-Wan finds himself staring at the way your too-long pants brush the floor as you sway to one side. Your sleeping shirt brushes the middle of your thighs, and he realizes how utterly small you seem in the moment. “You feel the same way about her that you used to.”

His eyes snap up to yours at your words, mind reeling. It takes him an eternity to force out a single word.

“...No.”

You tilt your head confusedly, and Obi-Wan wants to pinch himself to test if this is some sort of stress-induced hallucination. “No? You do know she’s positively infatuated with you, don’t you?”

“No, I —” he shuts his eyes desperately. “I mean, yes, I know, but I don’t —” he breaks off abruptly, opening his eyes at you with newfound willpower. Blast it.

Obi-Wan crosses the room in three steps, reaching his hands out to cradle you delicately as he pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

He hears your breath stutter, shock just about vibrating off of you, but in the next second your eyelashes graze his cheeks as you close your eyes and lean into him. His heart pounds in crazed gratification, and Obi-Wan feels downright dizzy from the sensation. He’s going to faint, he’s going to die right here in your arms —

Your hands find the top of his chestplate, fingers curling against it, but after a beat of his body singing with joy, he feels you apply the smallest pressure on his armor. You detach your lips from his slowly, and he blinks dazedly at you when you pull away. Disbelief paints your frame.

“Obi, what —”

“I love you,” he says quickly, hands still on either side of your face. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you. For so long.” One of your hands reaches up to clasp his own against your cheek. “I know that this goes against everything we’ve ever been taught, and you must be confused. I’m sorry.” He breaks off for a second, eyebrows creasing, because he’s not sorry. He could never be sorry for what he’s just done, not with the feeling of your lips still rippling in tingles through his brain. “But I had to tell you. I just...couldn’t go on without you knowing.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you flounder in his confession, and he studies you with more intensity than he’s felt in ages. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of everything about you, offhandedly concentrating to memorize every tiny detail. He’ll relive that kiss a thousand times over for the rest of his life if it’s the last one he’ll get.

“I — I don’t know what to say,” you manage to let out, and he presses his forehead to yours before releasing you. Say you love me, his heart cries. But Obi-Wan pushes the sentiment away.

“It’s alright,” he promises gently. You stare at him as he squeezes the hand that’s still holding his. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Obi-Wan, I —”

Whatever you’re about to say is cut off by a loud knock from outside, and the way you jerk back from him pricks at his emotions. You quickly pad to the door, opening it a crack as he attempts to conceal himself from your unexpected visitor.

“Sorry to bother you so late, Master,” Anakin’s voice fills the air, and Obi-Wan shrinks further into the shadows. “I’m just checking in before I leave for Vanquor. I wanted to make sure you’re still available to train Ahsoka while I’m gone?”

It takes you a little to formulate a response, your eyes still wide. “Yes — of course, Anakin, always.” You attempt to shut the door, but Anakin speaks up before you can.

“Actually, I was hoping to ask you for some advice as well, if you don’t mind.”

You can’t look at Obi-Wan without giving him away, so he sends a subtle wave of reassurance your way, hoping you pick up on it.

The tension releases from your shoulders, and you nod at his old student. “I’d be happy to. Give me a bit to get ready,” you gesture behind you, “and I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

Anakin must nod in return, because you close the door without another word. You reach up to grab your outer robes from where they’re hung on the wall, and turn to him with a tormented expression.

Go, it’s his turn to coax you as he mouths the word silently. It’s alright.

Your eyes are shining with emotion that he can’t quite read in the dim light, but eventually you slip on your cloak and shoes and open the door once more. With one last lingering glimpse at him in the corner, you disappear into the hall where Anakin is waiting.

As he feels your presence dwindling away, he sends a final thought into the vacant room, more to himself and the aching emptiness of the Force than to you.

I love you.

#*DROPS THIS AND RUNS*#rini writes #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi imagine #i'm so excited to finally post this one it's been in my drafts forever #THE DRAMA!#don’t imagine the gif as his face after you leave just DON’T

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the-last-cuddlebender · 3 years ago

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Do you have any cloud family content in the making?

aS A MATTER OF FACT--

I have quite a bit actually. Bestdad!Aang has been running rampant in my google docs--as per usual and as it should--so I have some goodies, though none of them are finished yet

I’m still organizing my docs, but these are the fics I have filed into the cloud family wip folder so far:

“The Almost Airbender” — pre-Tenzin; Aang is worried that Kya and Bumi think he doesn’t care; impromptu dad-trip to the Southern Air Temple. The temple has yet to be rebuilt and has been left untouched because 1. the recovering skybison population need a haven where no human can access, and the southern temple is the hardest to get to 2. Aang doesn’t want to rebuild it until he shows it to all three of his children (so after Tenzin is born and old enough to retain memory of the before and after) Renovation by definition will remove a lot of the temple’s scars, and he wants to teach all three of them how to have fun in the darkest times and find the beauty in the temple, even if it is in ruins, because the memories are what matter (basically a big callback to how 1. the idea of the kids playing ball with the Fire Nation tanks at the end of the finale 2.when Aang and Katara went onto the fire navy ship and poked around the ruins and had a bonding moment over realizing Aang was born 100 years ago. Aang’s kids might not be able to wrap their heads around the gravity of what that means. He wants them to know him. To understand him. To know that he would do all this again and wouldn’t change a single thing because they were his silver lining. He wants to show the magnitude of his love for them, and he doesn’t quite know how, so this is one of his solutions. Hijinks ensue ofc😈)

“Red-handed” — Aang is injured while protecting the kids, and Katara isn’t around to help. The trio have to figure out how to save themselves and Aang despite the obstacle of Aang’s injury, because he never got the hang of healing (resigning to believing that he was just not born with that special “something”) and Kya has yet to learn, either. “Kya, do something!” “I’m trying! I’m trying!” Kya also thinks she might not be born with that “something”, like Aang, but lil Tenzin has his first opportunity to be a teacher and does it beautifully, despite how badly Kya scared him and always picked on him. “This isn’t about me. This is about Dad.” And the kids all learn to trust each other and their range of abilities and strengths and weaknesses all while Aang is technically dying and so can only wait and listen and be witness to his children learning how to have courage in each other. (Kindof a call-back to Bumi’s tests with how Katara and Sokka were being covered in the gemstone, except this time it’s Aang bleeding out).

“Always Returned” — Explores the idea that maybe Aang took Tenzin on the vacations in order to teach him the advanced sets of airbending. He trained him hard and used the locations as a treat to offset the intensity because he knew Tenzin would otherwise break. Aang had to be tough on him because time was short. Tenzin’s bullies were getting bolder, and after an incident where Bumi wasn’t around and where Kya wasn’t enough to protect him, Tenzin very nearly gets killed. Katara insists that Aang takes Tenzin with the vacations as a supplement to his rigorous training. He’s just a kid. But Aang struggles with thinking that the other two feel abandoned. Includes Aang Astro-projecting to Katara to see Bumi and Kya while away from home

“Through the Heart” — Aang is bestdad™ and teaches baby Bumi how to express and articulate his emotions by calling overwhelming feelings his “storms” that sometimes need to let out their rain (crying--and it was okay to cry because that was what storms were meant to do). Bumi has a hard go of it, but Aang believes in him and tells him that he’s the strongest “stormbender” he’s ever seen. Basically the father-son bonding that newdad!Aang and baby!Bumi deserve, and Katara is the proudest Mom in the world

“Master Bumi” — In which Bumi is bummed that Tenzin and Kya are gonna be masters with students one day and he isn’t, and so Aang and Katara introduce him to his little cousin Iroh who wants to be in the military one day just like Bumi. Basically, Bumi gets a pupil and is awesome and Kataang couldn’t be prouder (and Kya and Tenzin take notes on how he has fun and how he uses a “gentle nudge”, but the most interested note-taker is Lin, and it’s by Bumi’s example that she learns game theory to teach recruits but she does it without the silliness ofc)

I have a few more, but these are the most “complete” ones that I have on hand, dear anon

#kataang #cloud family #answered #bestdad!aang has a very special place in my heart #thanks for the ask!#bestdad!aang

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penrose-quinn · 2 years ago

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Pen, NGL I was just WAITING for you to reblog that post... I hope you saw this coming! 😁

36, 42, 49, 62, 66

Also, only if you can/want to! No pressure at all!(I'd ask you a lot more tbh you're just so awesome as a writer!)

I hope that RL is treating you kindly. Take care! (Also, please correct me if I'm wrong but you're starting your new job really soon right? May it go swimmingly!! ❤️)

Hi Yoko 💞

Actually, SAME. The moment I saw you rb the post, I felt like asking you a ton of questions because you're one of my brilliant writer moots! No pressure tho! I'm not sure if I forgot to mention it in my ask and I might've gotten too carried away with my excitement haha, but feel free to only answer if you'd like/are able to!

RL is okay-ish now. I'm just gonna savor my last break. You're right! I'm actually starting work tomorrow and thank you for this and for asking!! Wishing you the best and take care too ❤️💜💙

36. What fic are you proudest of?

It's not just one! The fics that I’m proudest of are all of the works I'm able to finish, especially if it's a series or a multi-chapter fic, because I'm one of those writers that lose patience and drop an ongoing story the moment I lose inspiration 😔 That's why I tend to write in one-shots or a series of them nowadays because it's quicker and readers get an ending at least. Green Light is the only exception because I find so much peace in writing it more than the others.

42. What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

I hope you don't mind me going off for a moment because I had two in mind!

It’s Musubi and Saltation. For the former, it’s because the title encapsulates so much about the threads that bind people, time, and events together and the nature of Kenshi’s Inherited Technique to be entwined with fate and how her attachments had become into a curse in her life. One of those attachments is Geto. Musubi [結び] means ‘ending’ or ‘conclusion’ but it also means ‘joining’, ‘union’, and ‘knotting’, almost as if it’s implying that there’s a beginning and end, a connection. On a fun note, all the chapter titles are connected because of the thread radical [糸].

As for Saltation, it means an abrupt evolutionary change, a sudden large-scale mutation, as to reference the nature of the demons in KnY since the focus is on them in this fic. Another meaning for saltation is dance, or at least the action of leaping or jumping. It’s more the former for me because I’m also alluding to Kibutsuji’s surname [鬼舞辻], that being ‘miserable demon dance’.

49. What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

This one is tricky! Most of my readers knew me from my Mugen Chronicles series. I don't mind it being an introduction to me, but the thing is it's definitely not something you should read casually since it's the darkest thing I've written. I'm also pretty indifferent to KnY so I sadly don't share the same enthusiasm of the readers who reach out to me to ask about the manga. I just wrote a series and dipped 😔

I'd like to be introduced through Green Light though! It's still in my brand of angst but warmer. I'd argue my whole Bright Light series is an antithesis to Mugen Chronicles. TR broke me so much with the tragedy that it inspired me to write something tender and hopeful for once lol. The issue in this one now is you can't expect a similar fic like GL because it really is that exception among my roster of works that are mostly angst and dark fics.

62. In [insert fic], is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included? Why did it get cut?

I’ll just share about the other installments of the Bright Lights Series because I had some deleted scenes/ideas for them. Sadly, I can’t share much about the Benkei fic yet :(((

❁ In What We Don’t Talk About, it was supposed to have two chapters: one set in Shin’s funeral and the other was somewhere in the Bonten future – but got scrapped. This is the only bit I was able to finish:

Takeomi thought the sun should fuck off.

The walls were splintered with gold from the blinds though that wasn't what roused him awake.

It was from the sound of footfalls.

Terribly familiar with each slow step that a part of him fell back to rest more comfortably as he slept over the Sano house for a night, second only to the early riser with the bedhead and the peeved face who began to pace around the room.

"Good morning."

But Shin wouldn't greet anyone first. You did.

That was when he truly woke up.

❁ If it wasn’t the Bonten future with Takeomi, I was going to continue on with a different spin-off in the canon timeline which is my untitled Mikey fic where MC stays with the Sanos after Shin’s death. I’m still planning to finish that Mikey fic someday now that we have his POV. The Manila fic for this one, Where I End And You Begin, is screwed-up (because Shin-less MC, Izana, and Mikey are all so awful to each other) and I’m too embarrassed to share more details about it tbh lol. Not sure if I’ll continue it, but I guess I’ll share a snippet:

"Those glasses look stupid on you."

You shrugged. "Mikey likes them on me."

Izana thought you doted on him too much.

"He's not here."

You sighed, removing your glasses in one swift movement and shelving them inside the drawer of your desk. Your eyes were on him, framed alone by the sets of your long lashes, and while you took him seriously, he loathed how he was still seen as that boy you met all those years ago.

You propped your chin over your folded hands. "Are you here just to tell me you don't like my glasses?"

"It's not like you needed them," he stated.

"Ah, an astute observation," which meant you intended to keep them and the impertinence should have you beaten. "What else?"

"You grew out your hair." His eyes lingered on your neck, but Izana didn't contemplate what your throat looked like slit open.

"I'll get it cut some other time."

"You shouldn't."

An order. Though it was one that didn't demand a lot from you and he figured there should be a change in how things were. You should be grateful.

❁ In Couldn’t Tell, I was supposed to write about Waka's mom. She sort of exists but doesn't play a big role. Him and MC were supposed to be that close and it was kind of endearing and sad too (Waka reminds me of Inui sometimes), though I had to cut it off because character-wise, it makes things both more complicated and irrelevant at the same time. He's always given off that vibe that he had to survive on his own like Benkei. Besides, the mother thing should just be between Shin and MC. Here’s a snippet:

The next time this happened again you bought him a candy bar, but Wakasa just invited you over hot pot under the insistence of his mother. You'd return back to being polite around them, but to his surprise, your laugh would echo over the walls from his mother's lame jokes. It's never usually this loud, unless she brought a close friend over. Then she'd sneak him a telling smile.

"Your mom's cool," you said, finding your place on the backseat of his motorbike.

Wakasa told you to never talk about this to anyone, but he didn't disagree. You didn't say a word about your mother.

66. What’s a fun fact about [insert fic]?

I already share a lot about Green Light in this blog. I guess I’ll just add the names of MC’s siblings. I’m not sure what more to share without spoiling.

Maybe, I should write about MC's heroic story (failure story). It went somewhere along the lines of during their high school years, MC kissed one of the girls that rejected Shin. It was more out of curiosity between her and them, but it ended there. The girl was genuinely interested in MC though she figured out that they didn't feel the same way for her after their first kiss. MC didn't tell anyone about it, except Waka.

#pen answers #i think i overshared lol #but the questions were really fun!!#writing

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fyasamisato · 5 years ago

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Character Talk: Korra - Choices and Identity

Hi all! Been such a long time since I’ve done this. I had a absolutely wonderful conversation with a friend yesterday about Korra and I wanted to put it into writing. (Warnings, depression)

It’s difficult for me to express the impact Korra had on me as a character. How much I could relate to her journey and her spirit. We both fell upon dark times together, and watching her overcome, helped me to do the same. It’s that journey into darkness I want to shine a light on. Because in my opinion, Korra’s journey is one of the best written arch’s for a protaginist I’ve ever experienced.

Korra was raised in unique circumstances. Understandably so given the recent history with the avatar. But being raised on a compound, prevented her from experiencing the world beyond the horizon, being taught about the role you are expected to fill, the power and expectation in your legacy and the weight of the world that you will be expected to carry is going to have an effect on who you grow into.

For Korra, that shaped her into a fiery, headstrong, reckless, and even sometimes arrogant young woman. She chose to embrace that legacy with both arms. I’m the avatar, you got to deal with it. She didn’t shy away from her destiny, instead her destiny became who she was. The brightest point in life to look forward to.There was no other option, no other dream and no other option only a desire to measure up to that legacy and to prove she was worthy to carry it.

Being the avatar, was her identity.

So it only makes sense that the series tests that resolve and that identity over and over again.

She expects to change the world for the better. She expects to bring balance to the world because that is what she is told she is meant to do, and thousands have done it before her. Anything that falls short of that idea, that legend, any grey area is going to be considered failure in the eyes of someone who being the Avatar is all they ever wanted. The expectations others put on her, don’t hold a candle to the expectations she put on herself. To measure up. To be what the legends told her she should be. In both books 1 and 2, that identity is put to the test. What can the avatar do for the non benders and their oppressors? What can she do when a civil war divides her loyalties? What choices will she make when the world stands poised to be changed forever? She faces these questions, with mixed results. In both the eyes of the world, and herself. She’s ridiculed and even despised. When you alone stand to make the choice to reunite the spirit and human worlds, you’re going to have second thoughts, you’re going to question if you made the right call. Headstrong as she is, Korra asks herself that question constantly. Is she fulfilling her destiny? Is she doing a good job, or is she making things worse? Could someone else have done better? Could Aang have done better? She was raised to think that she would make a difference. That she was the only one who could.

It’s easy to buckle under that weight when the world is at stake.

Book 3 begins, and Korra is left to question if she made the right decision, opening the spirit portal. It hasn’t made life better for everyone. Human or spirit, none of whom were asked if this is something they wanted. She made the choice for them, because she was the only one that could. Right? She was the avatar, this was her responsibility, no one else. To bring harmony between human and spirit was the point right? Wasn’t that balance? Korra is left to ponder this, racked with so many doubts as to her place and her ability to make the right choices. To question herself more deeply than she had before, and she had before, so many times. Every challenge she faced shook her resolve. Losing her bending, Unalaq’s manipulation. Nothing was as simple as she expected.

So it must come as a huge moment of shock and relief, when she discovers her actions had side effects. That air benders are returning, and that was entirely due to the choices she made. For Korra, this is something of a revelation. The equalist conflict wasn’t clean. The water tribe civil war left its marks. Could things have been handled better? Did she do the right thing? Those are the thoughts gnawing away at her, and yet this? The return of a people? Of her predecessors people? That is an absolute good right? No grey, no complicated motivations, no villains with justified causes. Just something good, that she caused. She did the right thing. Finally she brought unquestionably positive change, like an avatar is supposed to.

But then it has consequences you never imagined.

No one. Could have predicted the air nomads return. What’s more, no one could have predicted what that would lead to. The damage it could cause. What happened next, what Zaheer and the red lotus did, is Korra’s fault. She’s sure of it. Intention doesn’t matter to her, nor how unexpected the results. All that matters is these consequences came as a result of a choice she made. You think you’re doing the right thing, but the world always becomes more complicated than you expect. It would be unfair to blame yourself for that, but that’s exactly what Korra does, and the the world changes. All she can do is try to catch up.

For a brief moment, she felt like the avatar’s of legend. Felt like she was living up to the legacy she so tied her identity to. For once in her life, she was worthy to carry on Aang’s story. The Avatar’s story. Bringing back the air nomads was her proudest moment. The best thing she’d ever done.

To have it turn on her so violently...

What is Korra left with? She faced her most challenging battle. She survived, after the most suffering she’d ever experienced. Suffering no one should have ever had to endure. But the balance is broken, and the earth kingdom is in chaos. Once again, the resolution of one conflict gave birth to another. Something worse, around each corner, and for the first time, she’s in no state to fight it.

And this time, she doesn’t have to. Watching Jinora’s ceremony, and seeing her come into her own. One can’t help but see a glimpse of Avatar Aang in Jinora’s shaved head. The legacy Korra is trying to carry. The shadow she’s lived under the whole of her life.

And that’s when Tenzin, her guide, the living legacy of Aang, comforts her with the best, and worst thing she can hear right now.

They’ll take up the cause. They’ll take up the legacy of balance until she can return. She can rest.

The Avatar isn’t needed.

I don’t think it’s by accident that moment of Korra’s reaction is one of the most talked about and praised moment of the series. Is she happy for Jinora? Of course. Is it a relief to know the world will have someone to protect it? That things won’t fall apart because she’s gone? Yes.

But they shouldn’t have to.

Every conflict in the series, is a direct attack on the Avatar. On it’s role. The world has changed since the hundred year war. Leaving one to wonder if heroes even have a place anymore. Amon attacked her abilities. What was she without them? Unalaq presented her with a dark reflection. What lines could she cross before she goes too far? Zaheer meanwhile struck at something deeper. Her cause. Her legacy. The avatar imposes balance. One person, decides the fate of millions, and now, those people she tried to protect, are beginning to protect themselves.

Of course Zaheer was wrong, but the issues he proposed didn’t slink back into the shadows. They’re present for all to see the flaws in the system.

Her whole life, Korra was told she was needed. That the avatar was needed. They are one and the same in her mind. Now she’s faced with a sobering truth. She’s not needed. The world will move on without her. It’ll survive without her.

If she isn’t needed, if someone else can bring balance, then why should she? Why should she suffer again and again when she doesn’t have to? When no one needs her to? Why should this responsibility be solely hers to carry?

What is Korra to do, when all she’s left with is time to ask herself those very questions?

When she’s alone?

A long time ago, I loved the finale of book 1. Because I asked myself, what Korra’s lowest point could be? When someone so physical, so tied to her own ability to affect change, lost that ability? I thought losing her bending, losing the chance at the avatar state was the lowest point. I bet if we could have asked her that, if we could have peered into her fears in book one, she would have had the same answer. And that made me worried. Where could they go from there?

Thankfully, I was wrong. Losing her abilities, wasn’t her lowest point. Even powerless, an Avatar can still do great things. Still promote the balance of the world.

No, the worst thing that could truly happen for her, the darkest hour would be the revelation that she didn’t have to. That the world would balance itself. That she’d failed more profoundly than being beaten down. Than a villain achieving their goal.

That maybe the world didn’t need an avatar anymore.

Her destiny, that legacy, that responsibility wasn’t needed. Someone else could do her job, and they could do it better than she ever could, cause all she’d done is make mistake after mistake. (This is what she tells herself)

What she’d so wrapped up her own identity with was unraveling. If Korra wasn’t going to be the avatar? What would she be?

The scariest answer of all is the only one she’s left with. Nobody.

Korra never had another dream. Her want, her need, was to be a good Avatar. To live up to that calling. Her childhood on that compound had prepared her for nothing else, no other door was presented to her, no other choice. Her life was decided for her the moment she was born. She was going to be the avatar and that was it. So what is one to do when that’s not enough?

Korra had nothing else to fall back on. Nothing to replace that yearning, that drive in her that burned like fire. All she was left with was a hollow where that fire used to be. With nothing else, she begins a downward spiral. A self perpetuating sense of directionless. A depression that began to eat her up from inside, and that grew worse for three years, until she turned away from her legacy, from her friends, and from her family, because all of them were better off without her.

Those are the things we tell ourselves when we struggle with depression. Achievements? The good we do doesn't seem to break through that fog. The love and support from those we care about, doesn’t seem earned. Leaving us only with the worst doubts our minds can conjure.

There are times it feels like no one can hurt us the way we can hurt ourselves

Depression is something I’ve battled myself, and to this day, I have never connected with a character’s struggle as much as I have Korra’s.

Nor has a triumph ever felt so cathartic.

“If you look for the light, you can often find it.But if you look for the dark that is all you will ever see.” -Iroh

Watching Korra find that light again, helped me to find my own.

Korra defined herself as the Avatar for most of her life. When she at last overcomes that struggle, the avatar is still a part of her identity, but that’s just it. Only a part. Moving forward, she learned that her identity could be more. Was already more. That there were so many wonderful things in this world. Friends, family, and all of it leaves a piece of itself to carry on. Even the antagonistic forces in our lives, present us with a chance to learn. To overcome. Every experience builds up who we are, and what we become, more than titles ever could.

She learned the weight of the worlds didn’t have to rest solely on her shoulders, but that even so, she could still do the right thing. She could still make a difference. Maybe it was more complicated than the world needing an avatar or not. Regardless of title, it needed her. It needed Korra.

Korra began as a character forged by expectations. Both in universe and out. If you’re reading this I doubt have to tell you what she had to overcome along her journey and in the eyes of the fandom itself. The bar she had to clear, was immeasurably high. Expectations of whether she could live up to it all hung over her head, as much as it hung over the series itself.

When that was always the wrong question.

For so long she wanted to be the perfect Avatar, to live up to the heroes that came before. She was trying to forge the legend of the avatar, rather than the Legend of Korra.

Her journey, works so well, because it’s tied to the legacy of the series. The question of how to followup something so brilliant as avatar is the question Korra faced every day. How do you follow up a legend?

Instead of allowing herself to be crushed by the legacies of the past, Korra learned a far more valuable lesson. That the choices we make shape us, not the expectations of legends long gone. That we can forge our own identities, and our own futures. That to be something, isn’t the end all be all. We can define ourselves by more than our responsibilities.

That we will make mistakes, and that those mistakes will have consequences. That we will make choices and sometimes things will go dangerously wrong. That sometimes we will break, shatter into pieces and wonder how we can ever be put back together.

Those are the sorts of things destiny doesn’t prepare you for. Things that get left out of the retelling. A legend, doesn’t have blemishes.

So why would we ever compare ourselves to them? Why would we hold ourselves to those mythic ideals no one could ever match? Why run ourselves bloody and ragged trying to be something we’re not? Something no one ever really was?

A person’s story, isn’t beautiful because it’s flawless. Life, is messier than legend. Failures define us just as much as successes. Those flaws help us to build, to reflect on who we really are and the things we really want.

She never had to be the perfect Avatar, because there’s no such thing.

All she had to be was Korra, and being Korra, was enough.

645 notes · View notes

nekokoaa · 5 years ago

Text

Soft (Part 2 to Stare) - Bakugo x Reader

Soft

Character: Bakugo Katsuki

Word Count: 8K

This took me a while to write and I don’t know why lol this was for celebrating reaching 1700 followers but now we’re at 2500 FOLLOWERS (!!!), so I present to you guys part two to Stare. Stare is one of my proudest works and also is my most popular. I’m not expecting Soft to live up to the same popularity as Stare but I had a lot of fun writing this and that’s all that matters! XD

For Soft, this is Bakugo’s first date, first crush and I really wanted to show the inner turmoil within him. It’s not as simple for him to accept that he has a crush (he can’t even fully believe that you like him lol), he finds it distracting and unnecessary, but he can’t help how he feels. It’s going to feel like he’s going back and forth. One minute he likes you, the next he’s distant and it’s all necessary for him to grow. This is just a little incite of what I was thinking as I was writing this.

Thank you guys so much for this! I love all of you guys!!!

Please read Stare first before reading this!! >>>>>>Stare<<<<<<

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You, with the voice of an angel, the beauty of the stars, and a smile like the sun. It was as if you were Aphrodite herself. It left him obsessed and wanting more.

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Bakugo woke up that morning with the sun in his face and his mother’s deafening voice piercing the walls of his room. She was screaming something about breakfast but as usual, everything was muffled when his mind was full of you.

He thought of the events of yesterday as if it were a dream. Your forever bright smile that actually shined on him, your cheeks a soft red hue when you asked him out, and your dainty wrist in his large hand felt as soft as the cushions on his bed that propped his head up as he stared at his white ceiling above his head. Rays of light were piercing through the thin curtains of his window. Like freckles, spots of light glowed upon his cheeks and if it wasn’t for his date today, he would’ve remained in bed and soaked up all the warmth the sun had to offer. Sometimes he wondered if this was how you would feel if you were next to him.

With the sun upon his skin, he could almost imagine you beside him, glowing in presence and sparkling like a soaring comet. You tore through the darkest blankets of his skies, igniting it with a warmth he never thought he would ever feel before. And then you would stroke his arm, sending a wave of excitement to his nerves, your mouth would slowly widen into a smile and it was like he was watching the sun peek from the horizon to welcome a new day. It would look as if you were laughing for no apparent reason and your legs would begin to tangle with his just as Bakugo’s stomach would flip. You would look glorious in the light like you were in your natural element, the way how your skin shimmered with the sun left Bakugo speechless. All he wanted to do was just trap you within his arms and never let you go.

“Katsuki!” And in an instant, you were gone from his mind. You disappeared from his side and what was left was sparkles parading upon his bed as a figment of his imagination. His mother’s voice sounded once again, threatening to come up to his room and pull him out of bed. Bakugo could tell his mother was standing on the foot of the staircase because of how loud she sounded, she probably had with one slipper on the first step and a spatula in her hand, waving frantically in the air. Her eyes were probably sharp through blond furrowed brows, so pointy that anyone who meet her gaze would instantly combust into cuts.

“Alright! Alright!” Bakugo yelled back before sucking his teeth. He had to get up anyway. If he remembered correctly, he was picking you up at twelve. So, he had about two hours to get ready.

…

Before his mother could physically drag him to the table for breakfast, Bakugo was able to finish his morning duties and also get dressed for his date. When he stepped into his dining room, a neatly traditional Japanese breakfast was upon it. And he was glad to see one of his favorites, Tamagoyaki, as a part of the dishes. He liked them spicy, as strange as that was. But not only did he step into today’s breakfast, but also the bewildered stares of his parents. Their widened eyes followed their son until he entered the kitchen and returned on him when he emerged with a carton of orange juice. They weren’t particularly looking at his face but rather his clothes that seemed all too new and never before worn. Bakugo had dug into the deepest part of his closet for them. Black and orange were Bakugo’s favorite colors and his clothes consisted of them although it was mostly black. He was sporting a black shirt with a graphic symbol of a skull spewing fire out of its eyes and mouth. Straight cut black pants that hugged his legs and hips, giving the illusion that his legs were long, and his bomber jacket was black with orange stripes running down his shoulders and arms.

Clearly, Bakugo’s parents never seen their son dress so well on a Saturday morning even if he was going to hang out with Kirishima.

“A-Are you going out today, Katsuki?” His father, Masaru, was the first to ask when Bakugo sat at the table. He grabbed his chopsticks, contemplating on whether to answer his father’s question truthfully or not. He hadn’t mention to his parents about his date today or about you. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to let them know.

“Yeah I am,” he grumbled, sticking a piece of tamagoyaki in his mouth.

“With Kirishima?” His mother, Mitsuki, decided to dig more information out of her son. She placed a cup of coffee down for her husband before sitting and he quietly thanked her and hummed softly when he took a sip. Bakugo lifted his eyes from his plate to look at his mother who stared at him and eagerly waited for his answer.

“Nah,” he hoped they would leave it at that, but he knew his mother liked to pry herself in his business.

“Oh, then who?” She had a small smile on her face when she ate a piece of tamagoyaki. She also liked them spicy. Masaru avoided them.

Bakugo groaned and he let out a heavy sigh that seemed to knock Mitsuki’s smile right out of her face. Before she had a chance to open her mouth and complain about his attitude, Bakugo answered quickly.

“It’s ____. I’m going out with ____.”

His parents seemed to freeze as soon as your name left their son’s lips. They looked to one another and then back at him, their eyes as wide as it could be with their mouths slightly apart. Mitsuki’s surprised expression soon turned into one of anger and she abruptly stood up, reached over the table and pulled his cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a date today!? Look how dirty your face is! Do you want her to run away?!”

“W-What is wrong with you, ya old hag!?”

“Don’t speak to me that way!”

“G-Guys…” stammered Masaru, but the two carried on with their shouting match.

“Did you take a shower?! Brush your teeth?!”

“Course, I did!”

…

“Hey brat,” Bakugo finished tying his laces to his sneakers when Mitsuki approached him at the front door. She was calmer than just a few moments ago. In fact, she looked quite serious. Bakugo didn’t really think much of it. He stood up from the ground and buried his hands within his pockets, his body, hunched, and slightly facing away from her because he expected to hear a lecture from her mouth. But instead, she thrusted two small pieces of paper, tickets, into his chest that he caught before they fell to the floor.

“Here, if she likes you even more after today then take her to this,” Bakugo glanced at the tickets, and he made a small grunt before he stuffed them in his pockets.

“Sure,” he muttered and was about to leave before Mitsuki stopped him by the shoulder. She looked into his eyes that were identical to hers and a soft, yet confident smile came to her.

“Show her a good time, Katsuki,” she said, and they shared a moment of silence, looking at one another from mother to son. Bakugo nodded and he left his house and turned the corner on route to your house.

…

Every step closer to your house had the butterflies fluttering wildly within his stomach and chest. His hands became clammy while they were stuffed within his jacket’s pockets and he started to fiddle with the tickets that sat within them. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this date. Hell, he was even shocked that you agreed to it. All this time he thought that you were afraid of him, but your distance really meant that you shared the same feelings as him. Bakugo couldn’t believe it.

Even as he approached your doorstep with potential words and different scenarios flooding his mind, he still felt as if he were in a dream, lightheaded, while walking through a set of clouds. Is this really how it felt when you like someone? Like the urge to see them again as soon as you seperate seized every sensible piece of your rationality? Or the image of your beloved would play within your mind like a song upon repeat, the melody of their laugh would crescendo into the most beautiful of smiles.

Bakugo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. With that same hand, he rang your doorbell, fidgeting slightly as he waited for someone, hopefully you, to come to the door. It was about a few seconds until finally the door opened and you peeked your head from behind it.

“H-Hi, Bakugo,” you greeted him with a nervous smile and fully stepped out from behind the door. Bakugo blinked once he saw what you were wearing, his jaw slightly dropped as he scanned you over. He looked over you only once—no twice—fuck—a third time. Shit, you were beautiful. “You’re here.”

He froze in place at the sight of you. Your clothes were simple, yet it accentuated your shape. How could you look so gorgeous with a pair of jean shorts and a white buttoned top with lace as its short sleeves. You were a pure angel, a complete contrast to his devilish appearance and here he was, already tainting you by being in your presence. Were you wearing make up? It was light. Bakugo could tell your blemishes had vanished and your lips were a nude to your skin tone. He was fine with or without, it made no difference to your beauty to him.

“Hey,” was all he managed to say in his stupor. Your smile widened, and you called something out within your house before you locked your door.

…

The walk to the arcade was a silent one. Bakugo didn’t have the courage to talk. He wasn’t the most talkative person, he only spoke when it was important and when he did, it was usually at the top of his lungs. But being on this date, he had no reason to raise the volume and he also didn’t know as much about you other than the small habits you tend to do. Because of this, he came to question his reason for liking you. He questioned if it was his teenage urges acting as a dictator to his rationality. Maybe it truly was because he was attractive to your looks.

He glanced at you and he caught you staring at him. You jumped when your eyes met and looked away, a blush blossoming on your cheeks like you were caught doing something shameful. Bakugo found himself doing the same thing as he didn’t expect your eyes would be on him. ‘This is stupid!’ He shouted in his head. A simple stare had reduced him to a coward—a puddle on the side of the road for no one to step in but you. He couldn’t believe how much he was wrapped around your finger, if only you had known, you would’ve used it to your advantage if you had the courage.

Warmed cheeks and sealed lips carried on until you had reached the arcade. The arcade was bustling with teenagers and children with their parents which made sense for a Saturday. Bakugo was buying some tokens at the counter after he aggressively denied your request to pay your share. After all, what kind of a man would he be if he let you pay on the first date? So, you were standing awkwardly to the side, surveying the games while you waited for Bakugo to return. And when he did, he had golden coins in his hand, and a small smirk was on his face when he gestured towards multiple arcade machines with his free hand.

“Alright. Pick which one you want to lose in first,” Bakugo wished he could’ve recorded your face when he said that. You looked so offended that he barked out a laugh after.

“Or how about I give you the honors since you’re so confident?” You raised an eyebrow, a frown on your beautiful lips.

His smirk grew wider. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna make you cry on the first—”

“Just pick!” You pushed him ahead of you and you followed him through the crowds until he stopped in front of an arcade machine. It was on top of a small platform and in front of two screens were two suspended guns. The banner hanging above the machine was the title. Call of Duty, it read. There were already some children playing on it, the guns snuggled to their chests and fingers wrapped around the trigger. They shot at animated Zombies that threw themselves at the screen with their busted mouths bubbling with blood and mucus. The counter on the corner of the screen was skyrocketing into the thousands the more they took down.

“Ever played this?” Bakugo spoke like he was taunting you and turned to face you.

“Of course,” you simply said and folded your arms across your chest and glared at him. You were hoping he wasn’t bringing you to the ‘manliest’ game in the arcade believing you didn’t know how to play because of your gender. You wanted to destroy the confidence in his eyes.

“Ready to lose?” He teased and stepped up on the platform once the children were done. They stuck around to watch with a glimmer of excitement in their eyes. You followed after Bakugo, holding your glare, and taking his hand when he held it out to help you up. You would’ve thanked him if you weren’t too busy mentally preparing to beat his ass.

“What level?”

“Medium. I’ll give you a handicap.”

“Don’t even,” there was a scroll trigger on the gun and you quickly pressed ‘Hard difficulty’. It made him chuckle after he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the iron rails behind him. He grabbed his gun and went into a stance. His back was slightly hunched with the gun clutched to his body while he pointed it at the screen. Your eyes wandered to his arms. So toned, they were, as he was mindlessly flexing them. Your face grew hot and suddenly started to feel very bashful. You looked away, and when you did, started to notice that the game already began. The score on Bakugo’s screen was climbing and you panicked. You quickly pulled the trigger against the zombies that were coming at you. 500 points for body shots. 2000 points for headshots. You were aiming for headshots.

It was quiet between you two with only the thunderous sounds of rapid fire and the gaggled groans of fallen dead. The rest of the arcade sounds were reduced to background noise. Even the children who watched on with random shouts of excitement at the scores and making funny movements (that only seemed to possess children) were cast away in that same category. Nothing existed except you, Bakugo, and a crowd of zombies.

It was almost as if you assimilated into the game and was one with their universe. You defended the town from them like it was your destiny, like it was what you trained for and you felt the phantom pain on the side of your neck whenever a zombie would slip through and take a bite out of you. Your HP would drop but it didn’t stop you from shooting. You could feel yourself start to shake, your palms grew sweaty, and you started to hyperventilate until you caught yourself from becoming too absorbed in the virtual world. It was honestly the most exhilarating thing you had experienced.

By the time the game ended, you grinned at Bakugo with your hand on your hip and your gun holster up against your shoulder. He looked at you with eyes as wide as it could be and his mouth so open it would’ve fell upon the floor. The children’s faces mirrored his in disbelief at your score. 51,500 points for you and 18,500 points for Bakugo.

You: 1

Bakugo: 0

…

Bakugo couldn’t believe you beat him at Call of Duty. He used to play Zombies with Kirishima and the boys at home and he would always be the last person standing to finish up the round. His boys cheered for him for saving the round every time and he would feel so proud of himself for doing so. He was confident in his skills, which made him confident in beating you. But he was clearly outmatched and when he questioned your skills, you smiled and said that this was your go-to game in arcades. He set himself up for failure right from the start.

“Alright! You’re good, I’ll give you that,” he grumbled those last words. “But the next one is mine!”

“Sure, and since you lost, I’ll give you the honors to pick again,” you stressed out the word ‘lost’ and it made Bakugo grimace. You laughed, and that grimace quickly turned into his stomach doing flips. You had him on an invisible leash that you didn’t know about. His body already conditioned to react to anything he found cute or beautiful about you. It was ridiculous, he thought.

“Whatever,” Bakugo dug his hands in his pockets. He didn’t mean to make himself sound like a sore loser and he didn’t like the frown that appeared on your face after. But he was tied between the feeling of accepting defeat and accepting his feelings for you. It was scary having a crush. He could feel himself changing and doing things he wouldn’t normally do. Instead of having fun at the arcade, he could’ve been training his body or quirk. He didn’t have time to waste if he wanted to be number one hero and that meant these feelings for you had to go. All Might didn’t get to where he was by being focused on girls.

“Bakugo,” he felt a gentle touch on his arm and it pulled him away from his thoughts. He glanced at you and you were looking at him. It was the second time he seen you so worried, the last time was after karaoke and he had yet to find out what made you worried. Was it him? You were a normally happy person, like an airhead almost. You tried to look at things on the bright side even in the darkest of situations. It was similar to Deku who always annoyed Bakugo with his optimism but when it came to you, he didn’t seem to mind. “I didn’t mean to tease you like that. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t deserve your apology. You weren’t to blame, yet he pulled his arm out of your grip and the small gasp that sounded from you pained his heart. “I found the next game,” Bakugo stated without looking at you and walked ahead. You lingered in the same spot for a moment before you quickly joined him.

…

The next game Bakugo picked was Basketball hoops which you were a little surprised about. There were two baskets and it was being separated by a tall metal gate that also caged around it to prevent the balls from flying out. Bakugo stood in front of it and pulled a miniature basketball out of the pile. He was already adding the tokens in before he turned towards you.

“Ever played this one?” He threw the basketball towards you and it nearly slipped from your hands when you caught it.

“Not exactly,” you smiled nervously.

“It’s simple. You just throw the ball into the hoop and you gain points. Person with the most points at the end wins.”

“Sounds simple.” You snorted, words melting in sarcasm as you watched Bakugo spin the ball with the tips of his fingers before trapping it within them once again. He was oddly an expert at it, but you decided not to ask about his experience. The game counted down from ten and Bakugo positioned the ball slightly over his head with his elbows tucked in. You tried to mimic Bakugo’s stance as not to reveal that you had no idea what you were doing. A short beep sounded the start of the game and Bakugo rolled his hand the ball was tucked in and it shot into the air in a perfect arch before it swished into the basket. It bumped against the gate before falling back within the pile of its brothers. And soon you continuously heard the sound of swooshing as he consecutively made the shot every time.

You panicked once again. This time with no confidence that you could catch up to Bakugo’s points. You shot the ball towards the basket, inelegantly when compared to Bakugo’s form. Your elbow was out, and you thrusted your entire arm forward rather than shooting with your wrist. The ball slammed against the gate, making it jingle as it fell straight into the pile. You didn’t have time to think about your form. You started flinging balls in the air and prayed that one of them make it. Instead, they bounced against the iron rim with knotted rope. Some were fortunate not to suffer the blow of the iron rim and just fell directly back into their pile. The less unfortunate ones bounced back in retaliation towards your head, missing you completely and left to stray the arcade floors alone.

Bakugo’s points were climbing. It was unreachable now, so you abandoned the goal of winning to ending the game with at least a point. The swift swooshes of the basket whipped through the air and it was attracting a small crowd of children and curious adults around Bakugo. It was almost inhuman how he was scoring, and he had yet to miss.

“Amazing!” You heard a girl behind you say and you were damn well sure it wasn’t towards you.

It wasn’t that you gave up, but you kept the basketball in your hands and looked to your left at Bakugo. Your eyes had fallen on his face, his eyes and lips relaxed, almost serene-like. You wouldn’t say he looked one in his element, but he was definitely comfortable with what he was doing.

The beeps that signified the end of the game sounded from the machines and Bakugo’s score was a whopping 500 points, 10 points for every basket made. Your score was a disgrace. You didn’t even count it as a score because you didn’t make any. You weren’t on the board as embarrassing as you had to admit, but basketball just wasn’t your best sport.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” You felt the need to ask, not in disbelief of his skills but in curiosity.

“I have a hoop in my room,” he replied. He didn’t want to let you know that he uses it when he needed to calm down. Usually after an argument with his mother, he would fling balls relentlessly at his hoop in frustration. His father had gifted it to him when he found out about his habit of blowing up small holes in the walls of his bedroom when he was heated. It helped significantly to control his anger and he even found himself shooting hoops whenever he was bored.

“Would you—Idon’tknow—maybe, teach me next time? Maybe?” Next time? What made you so confident that there was going to be a next time? In fact, you weren’t. You were testing out the waters, shooting hints at Bakugo to see if he was even interested in another date after today or even if he just wanted to hang out. You closed into yourself when you asked, your posture curved forward as if to hide yourself from him. You bit the bottom of your lip and couldn’t stop your cheeks from warming up. You were trying to be as bold as you could, as confident as you imagined yourself to be when you fantasize about this date last night. It was easier to dream that you were a confident, strong girl who knew what she wanted in this world and faced issues head on and didn’t get flustered by the mysterious feelings of a crush. But you knew the world in your head was a vast utopia, a world filled with desires that didn’t seem tangible in reality. Still, you urged yourself to try, because trying was a step closer to tangibility.

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

You: 1

Bakugo: 1

…

Bakugo wasn’t prepared for your question. He was still deciding whether to give in to his emotions or not and that sheepish expression on your face didn’t make it any easier. He was convinced it coerced him into responding in agreement to another date. He didn’t have the heart to deny that face or perhaps his heart didn’t want to.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets in habit, looking away when he did, his voice was so small that he nearly couldn’t hear it over the sounds of the blaring game machines in the vicinity. At first glance, anyone would believe he was upset but if they peered into his face, they would spot the flushed skin of his cheeks and nose and possibly his ears. He was hiding his feelings within, though, even if he was lying to himself, his body revealed all truths.

…

The last game would decide it all and you were ready. Because you gave Bakugo the right to pick twice, it was up to you to pick the final game. You guided Bakugo to the corner of the arcade, it was away from the valley of machines but not too far where you couldn’t hear them. The games at this corner were more traditional; darts, board games, air hockey, any game that didn’t need to be attached to a machine to work was there, including table tennis which was where you were pulling him towards. You wouldn’t say you were an expert at table tennis, but it was a sport you were decent in. Bakugo already had good hand-to-eye coordination so you knew this choice would make it a fair final game.

“Final game. You sure about this?” It was like the mellow Bakugo had retreated, and the bold and brash one came loose. The grin returned as it split across his face in a crooked slant from cheek to cheek. He looked the best when he was smirking, his eyes narrowed slightly with a glint of mischief—almost like it was melting with sin.

“Wouldn’t you want to end this with something fun?” You returned his smile with a question, but it looked more innocent than his. You were starting to notice the vast differences between you and Bakugo, not only in style but even in personality. It was odd that you two were attracted to each other. You didn’t believe in the saying, ‘opposites attract’, but you had to admit there was some truth behind it.

“Look, I just hope you’re ready to sing for me again.”

Again? “I’m surprised you haven’t learned from last time about being too cocky.”

“Only thing I learned is to not go easy on you.”

Your eyes rolled. “Oh please, do not pull that crap on me now. I won fair and square. And what do you mean ‘Again’? What made you think I was singing for you the first time?”

You had expected to hear another one of Bakugo’s boastful remarks, but you were delighted by his smile instead. It was far from a soft one and was closely associated with the last one that held mischief. It was a smile that knew the ups and downs and ins and outs of your mind without barely even knowing you. How was that possible? You didn’t know. But you did know Bakugo had a very perceptive character even if his brass personality didn’t make him seem so.

If only you also knew he was bluffing, then you wouldn’t have blushed the way you did, confirming his suspicions about how you acted during karaoke. It was nice for him to know that those stolen glances at him weren’t all for show.

…

You didn’t realize how intense table tennis was. You knew where it derived from held some tension during its matches. Watching the US Opens, French Opens, and other major tennis tournaments with your family often had you near the edge of your seat. You would see the crowds snapping their heads from right to left at the speed of the ball before erupting into cheers once the ball fell out. Your father would jump out of his seat, a fist wringing in the air, as a point was added to the score of his favorite player and the umpire would call to settle down the crowd, but the excitement erupted to where silence couldn’t be an option. But soon, the crowd knew the match wouldn’t continue unless they settled, and they hushed each other until all that sounded was the ball bouncing to and from the green synthetic surface and into the player’s hand. This memory, you recalled, was like you were reliving it except you and Bakugo were the players with the onlookers being the patrons of the arcade.

The sound around you were muffled against your eardrums, nothing but the base of your heart resounding in rhythmic beats and the tennis ball slamming against your paddle, releasing a loud ‘pock!’ before bouncing back onto the table court and into Bakugo’s side. He moved like lightning, the arm of his muscles tensing at the exact moment the ball touched his paddle. A grunt had left him as he returned the ball onto your side and a thunderous sound erupted from the impact. You returned it just as swiftly.

It was match point for Bakugo and you could tell he was swinging harder, faster. He wanted to end this game as desperate as you wanted it to continue.

“Shit!” He hissed when you returned the ball and it hit the table in an odd angle but managed to fly past his paddle. You evened out the score and it was your turn to serve. Two more scores and you would be the winner, but you knew Bakugo wasn’t going to make it easy for you.

The first ball you served hit the table and managed to slip past him. Or was he?

Bakugo chuckled darkly, one that rattled your core when it reached your ears. You allowed it to frazzle you and your next serve was easily deflected and the ball zoomed past you, evening the score yet again.

“I’m not going down that fucking easy,” he declared, and you wordlessly picked up another ball to serve.

The score went from even to either you or Bakugo having the advantage to even again. It continued for as many times until you had lost count. The tension grew to unbearable heights, the patrons were ‘ooo-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’, some urging for your win and others for Bakugo’s, but you didn’t let their cheers distract you and neither did he. A faint sweetness lingered in the vicinity and it could only be coming from the sweat that shined Bakugo’s skin. An aroma that reminded you of being in the training room and whenever it was Bakugo’s turn to spar, your nose would be blessed by that scent while the others, specifically the boys would secretly tease him for it, too afraid to openly do it unless they wanted to face his wrath.

The ball flew from your side to Bakugo’s side repeatedly and it was about a minute until the ball zipped past you and Bakugo yelled in victory as well as his fans.

“One more fucking point!” He roared and raised his racket in the air, confidence spewing from his body language like he already won. All you did was glare at him, ignoring the reassurance from your encouragers but you didn’t understand why they treated you like you lost when clearly the game was still on. They were underestimating you, them and Bakugo, and you knew you had to prove them wrong. You tightened the ball in your hands and licked the sweat off your lips. Bakugo had a terrifying smirk on his face when he went into his stance, gripping his racket until the veins in his arms started pulsating.

You served the ball and hit it with all your might.

…

Bakugo had been wondering what brought him back to sitting on the couches in one of the karaoke venues again. A much smaller room than the one he was in on that day he went with the class, it still held in resemblance, though, the atmosphere of it was nearly suffocating. He was without his boys, without a distraction from you, the beautiful girl who was scrolling through the list of songs with a remote, humming softly when lingered on a title before continuing on. Another glance around the room had him questioning his reason for being here. Hadn’t he lost? Clearly, you weren’t going to reward him for losing, right? Although, he had paid for a 30-minute rental for a venue, so he suppose that was his punishment. It nearly put a dent in his wallet.

“So, you’re gonna sing for me anyway.” Whether it was a question or a statement, you still flashed a smile at him when you stopped at the title you were searching for. It was startling how just a simple curve of your lips could make his heart stop, his breath hitch, and make him all want to drop what he was doing just to feel them slobbering over his. He was a fool, a fool desperately yearning for the girl sitting right beside him, your leg barely brushing his and sending his mind in a flurry of emotions.

Fuck. Get a hold of yourself. He rehashed in his head repeatedly. It didn’t help that the only other presence in the room was you.

“No,” you drawled, reaching to swipe two microphones from the table in front of you. “I want you to sing with me.”

“Hell no,” he abruptly said, pushing the microphone away when you pressed it against his lap. “I don’t fucking sing.”

“A bet is a bet,” you reminded him, and he let out a groan, “besides you’re not really singing. You’re, like, slow rapping.”

“Are you stupid? And what the fuck is slow rapping anyway?”

“I don’t know I made it up. It’s like rapping but it’s slow!” You giggled, and like a reflex, his stomach flipped. You still tossed the microphone at him and as reluctant as he was, he followed you when you pulled him by the arm to stand up, not allowing himself to be drag because he held too much pride within himself to be dragged by the likes of anyone. You had missed his grumble when he confirmed your stupidity, and when you had questioned him with a hum, he remained silent, gripping the microphone in hand to relay his frustrations upon it.

He found himself standing in the middle of the room facing the tv while you were in front of him, gleaming up at him with a smile as the television’s light splashed against your back. Once again, you didn’t seem to need the lyrics because when you started the song, you remained facing him, tossing the remote where you were sitting and bringing the microphone close to your lips. He felt jealousy creeping behind his shoulder at the inanimate object (that held no soul) that had the privilege of touching what he desired. He wondered adamantly how foolish his feelings were going to make him?

The song had started with the melody of a distorted accordion mixed with electronic sound effects that these popular pop music writers loved to add in their tracks. Bakugo was a stranger to this kind of music as his go-to-genre was rock, metal, and sometimes even rap so when you were swaying side to side at the peppy beat that swirled itself into the existing melody, he could only watch as he waited for your voice.

“I'm a motherfuckin' train wreck. I don't wanna be too much,” and there it was, hitting him like a smooth wave slamming into the rocky side of a mountain, carrying his previous frustration into the endless ocean to never resurface again. Once your voice had reached his eardrums, it had placed him under your spell, one he wished would never break as chills walked his skin like they scavenged for mysteries of their birth. Velvet melted from your mouth, sweetness formed into honey and kissed your voice box, blessing it with the gift to open heaven’s gate with a single note.

“But I don't wanna miss your touch. And you don't seem to give a fuck,” his lips had adversely failed him when he fought to keep them from upturning into a smirk, more specifically at the arousing feeling of you cursing. The chills continued to pry around his back and shoulders and the upper part of his arm where you had gently caressed him for a moment, eyes moving to hold his benevolent stare that he blissfully wasn’t aware he was making.

When the beat of the song picked up and greeted the chorus, you had pulled away from him, turning around until your back faced him, your eyes still on him with your head turned to look behind you, a playful smile curling on your lips. Without doubt, a fire was lit from within him.

“You ain't my boyfriend. And I ain't your girlfriend. But you don't want me to see nobody else. And I don't want you to see nobody,” you bounced your body with the beat, the voice of the original singer echoing the last words of the lyrics or otherwise singing with you. You meant to stroll back to Bakugo once you turned around, but he already closed the distance between you two, eyes somewhat wide and searching within yours for any meaning between those lyrics to be true. “But you ain't my boyfriend. And I ain't your girlfriend. But you don't want me to touch nobody else. Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody…”

The search for the truth in your eyes nearly made Bakugo miss his line. He started out shaky, startled at how fast it came when the screen prompted for the second singer to start. It oddly reminded him of Deku when he pitifully struggled to sing with Uraraka, so he quickly found his rhythm to avoid the same embarrassment, his singing, that was mostly him talking but elongating his words, sonorous in pitch yet rough at the edges.

“I…I promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in lo—the fuck are these lyrics?” He abruptly growled, his voice caught between ire and mortification when he read the sappy lines that made you blush. You squeezed his arm to urge him to continue, already missing a few lines with how fast the song was going. It wasn’t like he had a choice, he sucked his teeth before bitterly singing through gritted teeth. “I lose my mind when it comes to you. I take time with the ones I choose. And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah.”

Your voice returned for the chorus soon after his part was done, and he never felt so relieved to hear your voice. He didn’t have a clue how you were so comfortable singing, yet it was hard for you to speak in class whenever you were answering a question. You were bold, daring, confidence spelled within your eyes and shyness was nothing more than a distant relative. You let the music guide you, boldness encouraging you to guide Bakugo’s unoccupied hand to your waist as you danced, his touch barely even felt through your clothes as fear had struck him. Even with consent, he questioned within himself if this was okay. Though, the ghostly feel of the arch of your waist to your hips under his palm had abolished all uncertainty. He was a teenage boy, after all.

He was careful not to move his hand anywhere you didn’t place it but even that was hard whenever you would move your body to the song, sometimes his hand would fall lower towards your hip and he would quickly return it to your waist, so he wouldn’t lose the privilege of touching you.

But when you moved closer to his body until your shirts were caressing, your bright eyes inhabited a world in which he wanted to be a part of, his fingers curled slightly into the newly founded lace sewed into the sides of your shirt, a detail he missed earlier when he was stunned by your beauty. His grip on his microphone went loose against his fingertips and threaten to fall, his face was so close to yours and if it weren’t for the microphone against your lips, Bakugo would’ve closed the gap between you urged by the yearn he felt to touch them.

The two of you were now sharing one microphone, eyes locked onto each other’s, unwavering as they embodied the passion of want.

“If you were my boyfriend…” You sang softly, your vocals sweet and heavy.

“And you were my girlfriend…” Bakugo spoke, his voice harboring that same softness of yours which was foreign to him. He was no longer able to sing, and the song carried on with no vocals as you too were rendered speechless by how thick with warmth his words sounded. There was no indication that the two of you were going to continue the song nor did you encourage him to. The melody was left as background noise as you became trapped in Bakugo’s gaze. How they fidgeted about on your face, taking in your irises, the shape of your nose, the blemishes upon your cheeks and your forehead, the shape of your cheekbones, your chin, and lastly your lips. Gradually, they were moving closer to Bakugo’s just as the microphone was slipping away from between.

If only it wasn’t for the raging scream of Bakugo’s phone trapped within the constraints of his jacket’s pocket, he would’ve already felt the soft press of your lips against his. He had never turned so fast, so dramatically before in his life. He was already digging through his pocket, fingers already mindlessly tapping at the screen once he pulled his phone out and you swore his hands were going to ignite into an explosive if it weren’t translated into the roar that came out of his mouth.

“What!” The person on the other end was no other than his mother who was informing him about coming home at a respectable time. The rage he used to answer his phone was hammered back at him with that same force. You could hear his mother’s screech that certainly reminded you of Bakugo’s, just more feminine.

The heated moment between you two ended with Bakugo screaming into his phone with a colorful combination of profanities you have never even thought of and you were surprised that his mother was worse in her usage of language, even threatening to ‘come down over there’ if he didn’t show some respect.

…

“Bakugo, this was fun, thanks for coming with me,” You smiled softly to the short grunt that came from Bakugo after. He was walking slightly ahead of you, hands in his pockets like usual with his head slightly down. He was wearing his black earphones but only his ear that was away from you had them in while the other earbud hung loosely near his chest. He hasn’t been able to look at you since you two left the karaoke booth and he thought himself a fool that he couldn’t stare at you for more than two seconds without feeling embarrassed about what had happened. Bakugo handled embarrassment the same exact way he handled every emotion that didn’t fit his tough exterior, it fuel his anger and he turned into a grumpy mess, silent yet aching to explode if someone were to speak to him. Though he could never do that to you. No matter how much his anger seemed to tip over, he couldn’t imagine you being at the end of it.

The walk back to your house was as silent as the walk to the arcade. Bakugo wasn’t really sure what to say, whether to question you about what had happened before that untimely interruption or just leave it up in the air. Did you actually like him…? Like how he liked you? Or was he imagining everything, misreading the signs like an idiot hoping the girl he liked actually liked him back? You were a nice girl without a doubt. Bakugo could see that every time he would watch you train with the girls or when you would give up the last dessert to Mina during lunch time or when you would feed the stray cat at the back of the school or when you would always, always greet him with a smile in the mornings if you were to cross paths with him and then Bakugo would think he was special until you would do the same for Deku shortly after. You were a nice girl indeed so for all he knew, you could’ve been hanging out with him out of the kindness of your heart, giving him all this attention because you were too nice to say no to a date. Then again, it didn’t explain what happened in the booth because that was all you and you were—dare he say it—flirting.

Bakugo stopped walking, turning halfway to look at you. You blinked, wondering why he stopped and was now staring at you, mouth slightly open like he wanted to say something.

“Something on your mind?” You asked him, cocking your head to the side slightly, but he simply stayed staring for what felt like an eternity and it made your cheeks burn.

When Bakugo realized he was just repeating the question he wanted to ask in his head without saying it was when he swiftly turned his back to you and continued to walk. “…Just hurry up… it’s getting dark,” but it was only around 4pm and Bakugo didn’t know that it was capable for him to feel so stupid, first, losing his ability to speak as soon as he looked at you and second, instantly regretting his words as the sun was still wide awake in the skies.

But I don’t want this to end, was what you wanted to say but you found your words stuck in your throat, afraid that Bakugo might not feel the same as you.

“Um… thank you for walking me home. Today was really fun,” you said when you reached your front door and turned to Bakugo. You told him that repeatedly throughout the walk, you really had no other way to express how happy you were. You felt that a hug would’ve been too uncomfortable for him as you’ve never seen Bakugo express any affection physically. “I kind of wish it didn’t end…”

“Ah—well, you know, time.” What the fuck was he saying? He growled under his breath, frustrated that not only was he losing his thoughts to you but his language.

Oddly enough to him, you understood and chuckled. Fuck the butterflies in his stomach. “I know. There’s just not enough of it… I guess I’ll see you Monday, then?”

“Yeah,” you waited for him to leave but he stayed staring at your face. Perhaps even longer than he did before, and you saw him aggressively move his hand within his pocket like he was fumbling with something. He spoke your name softly because he thought he had lost your attention, but he in fact had it because he was all you could focus on the entirety of the date. “You had fun, right?” He knew you had said it multiple times, but he wanted to ask because he couldn’t believe it himself.

“Yeah, of course, it was the best Saturday I had in a while,” Bakugo felt like you had to have been lying but that wide smile held all the truth in the world.

“Then—this,” Bakugo pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and gave it to you. “You wanna go with me next Saturday?”

You took a good look at what he gave you, nearly dropping it when you read out the words. “Di-Disneyland?! I—yes! Yes, I wanna go with you!” you clutched your ticket to your chest. Desperate to calm your beating heart, you wanted to fan your heated cheeks but instead you tucked the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, realizing that Bakugo could very well be asking you out on another date. “A-As another date…?”

“Sure.” He grumbled, looking away from you for a moment and returning his hands to his pockets. “Then Saturday, I’ll text you the details.”

You nodded frantically at him with one of those large smiles he loved, and he said his goodbye and left your doorstep. You glanced at the ticket in your hands and jumped excitedly on the balls of your feet. It was hard to believe that Bakugo invited you to Disneyland. You didn’t think he was interested in that kind of stuff but there was a little part of you that wanted to believe he was going just for you. Oh, you so wanted to be right!

Before you knew it, you heard a call of your name and Bakugo was already back in front of you. He quickly leaned forward, and it felt as fast as it came. You saw a glimpse of his red cheeks hidden behind a frown and furrowed brows. “For today. See you Monday,” he quickly said before he turned around and left, leaving you stunned on your doorstep. Of all the things that happened today, the least thing you expected was Bakugo Katsuki kissing you on your cheek.

Bakugo stormed out of there as fast as he could, fingers touching his lips as he realized what he had done. He just acted. He felt like he couldn’t leave without doing something to finish off this day but—Bakugo groaned loudly, throwing his hands up in frustration—he didn’t even stay to see your reaction if you liked it or not. What if he arrives home and you text him to cancel the date because you felt uncomfortable about what he did? He was stupid, utterly stupid! He should’ve read the mood instead of acting on his urges.

He continued to berate himself in his head until he finally convinced himself that you liked it because who wouldn’t like a kiss from him especially since he was taking you to Disneyland.

Later that night when he was lounging on his bed, you texted him to once again thank him for today and that you looked forward to Saturday. Bakugo grinned to himself and replied ‘same’ before shutting his phone and closing his eyes. He thought he would be able to put his thoughts about you to rest but he couldn’t help but try to relive the events of today. Especially the feeling of your cheek against his lips.

As he expected, your cheeks were the softest thing he ever felt. The last thing he recalled was hoping to sleep and suddenly wake up to it being next Saturday.

Part three - Slumber - coming soon!

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios

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lettrespromises · 4 years ago

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┄───➤ LettresPromises informs you : you have one notification. ❜

──➤ 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 : 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.

──➤ Smoker sent you a letter, would you like to read it? ❜

@theastroooooworld sent a letter : ❝hello my lover 🧚🏼‍♀️, i hope you are well no matter when you see this request !since i love above all your writing, could you make a scenario with another love of my life : Smoker ? in which this angel becomes aware that he loves his best friend from childhood, but this confuses him a lot and he ends up not knowing how to act with her anymore and until he decides to tell her ? please make it very sweet and full of good vibes ! I trust you once again for this declaration of love !𓊕 — juste entre nous deux; tu es une personne formidable et j'avais juste besoin de te le dire, je t'aime fort 💜🤸🏼‍♀️❞

the author’s letter : ❝dear cam, i couldn’t be more honored of writing this request for you, especially because it concerns smoker and he has no business being this hot but oh well!! thank you for trusting me with your wonderful idea, i hope you’ll enjoy this promised letter. je t’aime si fort, t’es plus qu’incroyable et j’aimerai que tu le saches.❞

──➤ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : pure fluff. ─➤ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : none. ➤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.6K. Excerpt of the letter : ❝Only then did he realize that he had never felt an agonizing sensation of vacuity coursing through his veins when he was feeling frustrated. It was odd, it was foreign, he felt weak. His subconscious screamed at him to associate this haunting feeling of loneliness to the lack of your presence, and for once he agreed— Smoker knew he felt different, in the worst way possible, when you were not around, so he let out another puff of smoke.❞

Is there anything Smoker won’t put words around? Yes, there is.

There is the consuming rage fueled by his unquenched thirst to capture more pirates and bring his status of « white hunter » closer to glory. But he reminds himself that perhaps some pirates deserve to be set free as his orbs lay on the poster of Monkey D. Luffy and the letters of the word « wanted » screaming at him. There is the sense of injustice within the epitome of justice, such acerbic poetry, and the cacophony of remorses making his jaw clench every now and then. There is the frustration of acknowledging that there will forever be a gap between his own definition of justice and his superiors’ definition of justice, particularly Akainu’s version which appears too merciless to his own liking.

And there is the haunting torment of being incapable of qualifying properly his feelings.

He knows what anger feels like— he knows how anger bends his body, he knows that anger will push his sanity down a pit and he will have to sit here and observe an unhinged version of himself crawl out of said pit.

He knows what indifference feels like— but he barely realizes that his eyes roll back whenever his superior wishes, yet again, to narrow the notion of freedom within justice, he knows that his brain purposefully decides not to absorb any given information pooling out of Akainu’s mouth.

Smoker knows how his emotions manifest themselves and recognizes them kinesthetically.

But Smoker also fails to identify the newcomers.

« State your name and business before coming in. » It also seems that he has trouble recognizing the five distinct taps of your knuckles on the door leading to his office, but oh well.

Your knuckles brush the wooden surface of the door until reaching the doorknob and twisting it in the process, you close the door behind you, leaving his pseudo orders waiting in front of the door at the same time. « I’m kind of hurt, I thought you’d recognize my secret knocking style, we’ve spent ages creating this secret language as kids. »

But how could Smoker not recognize the sound of your voice and the honey dripping down your vocal cords?

He shifted in his seat, secretly thanking for your presence so his orbs could properly project a different visual than the bland reports scattered across his desk, and he thanked you a second time for allowing him to visually embrace the shape of your body, but he kept that to himself. « Should I give you a reminder of how old we are, Y/N? I’m almost certain we’re way past that age. » Smoker stated, a puff of smoke punctuated the end of his sentence.

« No doubt, you’re definitely past that age. » You trailed off whilst making your way over to his desk, a grin which radiated ill intentions shone brought amongst your facial features. You made a seat out of his desk without asking for permission, Smoker lightly tapped your left thigh in return, a weak attempt to make you get off of his desk. The experience granted by having shared the majority of your life with Smoker offered you the prestige of being free of your own deeds around him, without ever having to worry about pseudo consequences. « But I do have amazing news for you, I’m sure you’ll love it. » You finished, an amused gleam shining in the irises of your eyes at his quirked eyebrow, a silent way to tell you to explain further.

« I’m coming with you and Tashigi on Punk Hazard! Now, now… I know your emotionless self won’t let it show but I know, I just know you’re thrilled to hear that. » You slammed the report proving the sincerity of your words regarding your presence on the mission held on Punk Hazard on his desk in a loud thud, and the proudest grin appeared across your face, just to emphasize that silent victory over Smoker who had always refused to go on a mission with you, but never once did he admit it was because he was afraid of seeing you getting hurt.

Another puff of smoke left his lips, out of frustration, he recognized that he was feeling frustrated because of the way his teeth would hold his cigars a bit tighter, often approaching the limit of breaking them in two.

« You seem so eager to come on Punk Hazard, but I don’t think you realize how dangerous this mission is. » He grumbled, his eyes finding yours lost amongst the metaphorical electricity created in the room because of the tension. Smoker couldn’t quite tell what frustrated him the most— was it the fact that Akainu, out of all people, granted you the wish to come on Punk Hazard? Was it the fact he envied your ability to willingly ignore the magnitude of danger? Or was it the fact you called him emotionless?

Emotionless.

Smoker wasn’t emotionless, see— he was feeling frustrated. But, nonetheless, the words echoed in his head until it lost its meaning. Was he emotionless? No, no, no he was not. Smoker was not emotionless. He was frustrated, frustration is a valid feeling therefore is he able to show emotions. But only now did he wonder if it was genuine frustration.

« I didn’t reach this rank by slacking off, you and I both know it. I’ll see you soon enough, Smoker. »

He found his own answer when you hopped off his desk and left the room, the sound of the door being shut close was his sole wake-up call. Only then did he realize that he had never felt an agonizing sensation of vacuity coursing through his veins when he was feeling frustrated. It was odd, it was foreign, he felt weak. His subconscious screamed at him to associate this haunting feeling of loneliness to the lack of your presence, and for once he agreed— Smoker knew he felt different, in the worst way possible, when you were not around, so he let out another puff of smoke.

This enigma kept him up at the worst moments, and like every enigma, obtaining an answer to soothe the inner pain caused by the latest obsession of his mind was almost impossible. He immediately knew he couldn’t talk about it to Hina, or worse, Tashigi. Either way, he was sure to be met with either a harsh judgement and could already imagine Hina saying « You’ve mellowed ever since we joined the navy, Hina is amused. » or the inevitable stutters cascading from Tashigi’s mouth. Smoker was on his own, drown in the torment of his own emotions.

The sole temporary solution he found was to ignore you, if his body and mind had to hurt then so be it, he couldn’t handle the agonizing pain of seeing you go away, Smoker had mentally told himself to be a martyr and accept it.

You, on the other one hand, did not bother too much about his absence, you figured it was his way to mentally prepare himself ahead of a mission. You accepted it too, both his absence and the inexorable feeling of your heartstrings being bent in unimaginable ways.

Smoker lighted up the fifth cigar in a row now, and once more he blindly trusted the aftereffects of your absence for the cause of this obsession, smoking some more was merely a placebo to soothe the torture brought by the lack of answer. Truthfully, Smoker hadn’t spoken in a while, perhaps he had nothing to say as long as he knew what was going on. He spoke rarely and judged the value of his words before actually speaking— sure, he had directed his subalterns here and there to organize the ship on their way to Punk Hazard, but aside from the obligations of his ranks, he found nothing to say. Or rather, his mind didn’t grant him the ability to talk until he figured what was this haunting feeling which had no familiarity with frustration anymore. But was he emotionless?

Instead, Smoker let the rhythm of the waves crashing against the ship in the darkest hours of the night to rock his thoughts. His hazel orbs never left once the ‘wanted’ posters of Monkey D. Luffy and Trafalgar Law— of course he knew their faces and who they were, but the couldn’t trust his body anymore and wondered whether or not this secret emotional disease was going to affect his memory. Smoker hoped it wouldn’t have any impact on his memories with you, he was willing to let amnesia consume him whole and burn everything he knew except any memory which had your name written all over it.

From that moment, Smoker knew it was definitely not frustration.

« Smoker? Smoker? Earth to big cigar boy? You can go to sleep, it’s my turn to watch over the ship and you kind of look like a zombie if I’m being honest. » He hadn’t even noticed you entered the main cabin and thus he cursed himself for doing so, but Smoker noticed you looked hesitant by the way you were fiddling with your fingers, it was something you always did as a child.

Most of all, Smoker noticed something else— whenever you were in the same vicinity as him, the pain soothed, it faded away to let the most blissful sensation appear instead. Yet another question he will never obtain the answer to.

Using the grip on the armrests as a support, Smoker stood up and headed towards the door to leave you alone whilst you were on watching duty, that was the initial plan : head towards the door and leave. Head towards the door and leave. Head towards the door and-…

« Y/N, can I ask you something? » … And shamefully ask you to ease his pain instead.

You looked at him with a quizzical look painted across your facial features, both at the sudden interpellation, but mostly at the fainted grip he was holding on your wrist. « Sure, I’m all ears. » You replied, curiosity tainted the way your words came out but you kept your eyes locked on his frame anyway.

Smoker took a sudden drag of his cigars to ease his nerve and subconsciously give him a few seconds to organize the isolated parts of sentences shooting in his mind. Truthfully, he didn’t even know if this was necessary given that he ignored how he was feeling or what caused his body to hurt so much, translating this agony into words was beyond impossible. « You have to promise not to tell anyone about this. » He inquired, his orbs adopted a darker tone on the demanding tone coating his words and the hold on your wrist became temporarily tighter, you hummed in response, allowing him to continue. « If I’m being honest, I think I’m sick or have caught some kind of disease. It’s odd and quite impossible to properly be explained. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s manifesting through this constant sensation of feeling empty. It weighs on my mind, and I have no idea what’s causing it. »

You quirked your brow in response, genuinely concerned as to whether or not Smoker was actually sick— after all, as you were approaching the extreme binary climate of Punk Hazard, such possibility couldn’t be evicted. You allowed your orbs to roam over his face, a guilty pleasure, and besides visible confusion, you couldn’t depict any physical symptom.

« Um, right? Do you have any idea when did this start? » You asked, hoping to obtain more hints about his situation.

« I hate to admit it but it started when you left my office last week, and now that you’re here I feel better, as in I don’t feel this emptiness anymore. » He continued, and for the first time in your life, you could admire his emotions dancing under the moonlight. « I was wondering if you felt sick, too. »

« So, if I sum it up you feel ‘empty’ and ‘in pain’ when I’m not around. » You couldn’t help but bend your lips into a smile which you knew he already hated by the ill intentioned looks of it.

« Sort of, but you haven’t answered my question : are you ill or not? » A question so innocent which found its answer in the shameless laugh escaping your lips, Smoker covered your mouth with his palm— not because he cared about the quality of the slumber of his soldiers, but rather because the sound of your laugh was awakening something else in him which was too harsh to handle.

You delicately wrapped your fingers around his wrist, slowly making him retreat his limb to his torso, and to his greatest pleasure, your laughter left an imprint on your facial features in the shape of a grin. « Would you believe me if I were to tell you that I found the cure? » You asked, already imagining the outcome of a possible answer.

« Huh? What is it? » He responded to your question with yet another question, but there and only there he found the answer to his haunting enigma when your fingers invaded his vision field and threw the sole obstacles to the apex of the situation, his cigars, on the floor before stepping on them to extinguish them. And there and only there, Smoker felt peace when your lips crashed onto his in a delicately harsh liplock whilst your palms were cupping his cheeks. It came as a reflex, and he couldn’t blame himself for it because he had fantasized about this scenario several times while hoping it would be the cure to his problems, Smoker caged you against his chest as his forelimbs protectively claimed your waist.

The more your lips were lingering on his, the more he felt every ounce of pain exude his body by his every pores— you were the cure, you were the answer to his enigma and always have been. If his lungs hadn’t failed him, Smoker would have gladly delivered himself into the temptations of your lips once more, judging by the way he blindly chased after your lips when you broke the kiss.

Another giggle escaped your lips as your thumbs brushed invisible motions against his cheeks, « Do you still feel empty at all? » you asked, such a rhetorical question, right? Smoker looked at you quizzically but then it hit him— he felt full, and vacuity had lost sense. « No, I don’t feel empty anymore. » He concluded to your amused smile.

« You’re not sick and never have been, or maybe it’s a sickness to you, but you’re in love, Smoker. That’s what you were feeling. And if I’m being honest, I’ve been feeling quite ‘empty’ myself too. » You confessed and opened your heart to him so he could admire each tone of vivid color painting your feelings for him which caused him to tighten his hold to bring you as close as humanly possible. He had found his cure and needed as much contact as possible. « I suppose you’re right, I do feel better when you’re by my side. »

And here, you planted yet another peck on his lips and gave in to the sweet temptation of savoring the taste of his lips once more. The gleam shining in the corner of your eyes reflected nothing but genuine love, and you knew it was the same gleam reflecting in his own orbs. « I’ve never been more glad to be sick in my entire life. » Smoker concluded, and kissed these words into the skin of the crown of your hair.

That’s when Smoker knew that perhaps he wasn’t emotionless, or at least, he was able to feel emotions as long as you were by his side.

#one piece #smoker x reader #one piece x reader #smoker #one piece reader insert #one piece imagine #one piece oneshot #smoker hcs #smoker imagine #smoker oneshot #one piece hcs

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thenxghtwemet · 4 years ago

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@wickedgxmes

The cornerstone of their kinship, it seemed, was built on keeping their issues to the surface. Unlike her own qualms against Jacques, she and Nate shared in silent commiseration. Instead of allowing it to lay claim to their psyche, the pair used it to their advantage. In her blond-haired brother’s case, it was by taking arms whereas hers were less conventional tactics. In doing so, Jacqueline kept his presence in her life. Despite the painful remembrance that his presence created, it seemed it was difficult to accept. Apart from their proximity, there was a sense of quiet understanding that Jacqueline could not forfeit. Now, more than ever, it felt prevalent. The Night Court’s commanding forces were stretched thin, taking to chamber meetings and preliminary discussions. The humiliation (and there was no other way to describe it) tainted what was considered the Night Court’s proudest evening. The finality of Gabriel and Sophia’s union made them appear invincible. But for something as pesky as humans to override the event? Well. It simply would not do.

The stress of such an event, as well as the change it promised left her feeling askew. The High Lady, Sophia, all but assessed it herself. Jacqueline teetered between her composure and the reckless chaos between. Knowing when to enact one, and withdraw from the other. Yet on defining moments, it seemed her darkest impulses came about. In an uncharacteristic gesture, she finds herself placing a knock on Nate’s study. After his confirmation, she enters, with a servant following behind her. Two bottles of champagne, an assortment of cheeses, and a tin of caviar. Spoils of their aristocracy, so often taken for granted. “I thought we could use a break. The small council meetings and travel to the corners of the court have taken most of my energy.” Her tone was neither wickedly humorous, or cruel. Instead, almost dull as she poured the bubbly into the slender glasses.

#wickedgxmes #muse: jacqueline #(jacqueline and nate)

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dailytomlinson · 5 years ago

Link

“There were times I struggled to find my place in the band,” Louis admits today.

But it’s often the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for.

Behind the scenes he was very much centre stage: Louis was the mouthpiece, constantly fighting the boys’ corner and acting as chief negotiator between band and management.

“Being from Doncaster,” he says, “I’ve never had a problem with telling anyone ‘no’.”

“There was a while when I was worried I was getting left behind – some of the boys are on to their second album now,” he says, taking a draw onthe first of several cigarettes. “At times, I’ve been swimming against the tide, working out who I am. I was trying to find a way back into the industry, thinking of it mathematically rather than going off feeling and emotion.”

He’s referring to collaborations with Bebe Rexha and Steve Aoki in 2016 and 2017 respectively, which, although successful, weren’t where his heart lay. With Kill My Mind – the exhilarating ’90s-inspired opening track of the album Walls – he sets his stall out with a clear departure from anything he’s done before.

Walls is about regret, reflection and ultimately, hope, and feels like Louis, who sings in his still-broad Doncaster accent, has finally found his voice.

“I’ve always wanted to be autobiographical and honest. And in the last six months the songs I’ve written and recorded are of a better standard because there’s an honesty there,” he says.

Honesty certainly characterises the album, sometimes devastatingly so. There’s no escaping the fact that Louis, 28, has faced unimaginable pain over the last few years.

“It wasn’t until after I’d written it that I realised how much vulnerability I’d put in there,” he says. “When I first performed it… I had fans coming up to me in tears telling me their stories, and that’s not something I’ve ever had before. And to do it on that level about something so delicate… It was really cool to take something so dark and make people feel like that.

“I had to get a song like that off my chest. It was difficult writing about things that felt trivial compared to what was going on in my life. There was, I think, a necessity to write that song before I could move on creatively.”

Understandably, Louis won’t talk specifically about Félicité. But when asked about how grief has shaped him both as a man and an artist, he pays tribute to Jay.

“I think it’s a credit to how my mum brought me up that I have a resilience,” he says. “There’s nothing I want less than to have people feel sorry for me, so having that mentality has helped me through the hardest of times.

"I’ve also felt a real support system through my fans. I’d always felt it on a lower level, but when it’s something so impactful and life-defining, I really did feel it from them.”

Days after Jay’s death, Louis appeared live on The X Factor to perform Just Hold On with Aoki.

He was clearly in pieces and it was hard enough just watching, but somehow he held it together, presumably thanks again to that resilience.

“Sometimes it’s fight or flight,” Louis explains. “And the way I was brought up and because of where I’m from, I only see one option in that situation. I also wanted to put myself second and do it for my mum.

"That moment was bigger than me and it was actually incredibly liberating. It used every bit of strength and power and I look back on that performance as one of the proudest moments of my career.”

He says he tends not to suppress emotion and is able to share his darkest points with those he’s closest to.

But as the eldest of Jay’s seven children (five girls and two boys), he also feels a huge weight of responsibility towards his younger siblings and hasn’t had any professional therapy himself.

“No, no, nothing like that. That might be down to a bit of Northern pride, but I have a lot of responsibility on my shoulders and that drives me. I’ve got siblings who look up to me and I’ve got my grandparents as well. So all those things keep my head screwed on.

“My mum had a massive influence on me and I lived with a lot of sisters in the house, so I do find it easier to speak about my emotions. But I’m also from Doncaster, where to be a guy is to be tough and traditional and I feel like [there are] times where pride kicks in and I just say I’m all right.

"I’m lucky that I’ve got good people around me who I can trust and who I can be completely vulnerable with and say how I feel. Nine times out of 10, I don’t bottle things up. I wear my heart on my sleeve.”

They sold 20 million albums worldwide, earning over £40million each, but the pressures of fame were, at times, intolerable. Louis says they were only able to keep their heads screwed on because they had each other.

“You can never be prepared for that. It was such a head f**k. But we grounded each other so the minute one of us acted like a d**khead one of the others would say: ‘Stop being a d**khead’. I see people in this job surrounding themselves with superiority and they lose the concept of the real world.”

He remembers doing a shoot with the band for Pepsi over in the States with American footballer Drew Brees.

“This guy was like a god and we were insignificant when he was around, which we understood. But I’ve never seen anything like it. Every sentence that came out of his mouth he’d have an audience of hangers-on in hysterics.

"These people were so far up his arse and he didn’t have one good joke. He had no banter! I still hang around with my boys from Doncaster and I hear real stories all the time, which helps me understand the world that unfortunately I don’t get to see. Having empathy with people and a connection with the world is imperative for any songwriter.”

Harry Styles recently said that he never touched drugs during his time in the band (although he’s made up for that since), because he didn’t want to “mess it up”. Louis smiles as he confides that he can’t say the same.

“All I’ll say is that I did my fair share and enjoyed my time in the band. It’s right what Harry said and it was smart of him, but I definitely had a lot of fun in the band. I was always aware of how amazing the opportunity was, but also enjoying the moment for what it was. I lived like anyone else my age – the difference was that I was in One Direction.”

He’s in touch with Harry, Niall and Liam “sporadically” (we’ll come to Zayn shortly), but they’re all on very different paths for now.

“If we all went to a pub tomorrow it’d be like we’d never left. The enormity of what happened in One Direction creates a massive bond and we’ll always have that.

"There have been times when we’ve done each other’s heads in. There might be something I say in an interview that bugs Liam or vice versa, but we all know what each other is like and we can call each other up and say sorry for being a d**k. We’re like brothers.”

But that’s not necessarily the case with Zayn, who quit in 2015 and with whom Louis has had a turbulent relationship since. He was hurt when Zayn was the only one not to turn up at the X Factor studio to support him through his performance after Jay’s death, despite promising to be there.

Then there’s Zayn’s apparent repeated digs. In one interview he branded 1D’s music “generic as f**k”. There’s a difference between making a break from the past and dismissing it completely, and it’s a line Zayn perhaps hasn’t always managed to walk.

“Hmm,” agrees Louis, cautiously. “Other than maybe Niall, there is no one who is prouder of the band and the songs we created than me. But while what I did with One Direction is relevant, it doesn’t define who I am and I don’t struggle to make that dissociation.”

Does he think some of what Zayn has said has been disrespectful?

“Yeah, I do. But I can understand it. We have a lot of situations where we’re sat in interviews and if you’re in a certain mood you might run your mouth. The older you get the more you can tell if these things actually carry any malice or if they’re just a prod in the back. That’s life, innit? Sometimes people chat s**t and that’s the reality.”

He’s not ruling out resolving their differences in the future, but there’s no olive branch on the horizon.

“No, but I’ve not actively tried. We’ve all got a lot on our plates and there might be a day where I wake up and think: ‘OK, I want to right that wrong’, but not yet.”

After being in his company for a while, it’s not hard to see why Louis was 1D’s driving force backstage. He’s thoughtful, articulate, open and self-aware, but there’s a steeliness to him and the requisite pop-star swagger, which doesn’t seem to spill over into arrogance.

And that is reflected in his music, which is heavily influenced by the Arctic Monkeys, The Smiths and Oasis. In fact, the title track and latest single Walls sounds so similar to Oasis B-side and fans’ favourite Acquiesce that Louis’ manager flagged it as a potential issue.

“These kinds of things happen. There are only so many melodies you can write and if you listen to a band all the time like I do with Oasis…”

Anyway, says Louis. He had to make a choice.

“I was ready to risk it, but everyone said we should get in touch with Noel [Gallagher] so we did. Often the industry, and especially Noel’s world, can be a bit snobby and say: ‘F**k you you’re not using this song’. But he was really cool about it, signed it off no problem and although I’m sure he’s not happy about this, I f**king am, I’ve got a writing credit from Noel Gallagher on my album. That is some sick s**t so I’m buzzing.”

Is he nervous about going it alone? “I think I’ve got a good record so I’m confident. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t little bit nervous – there’s three and half years work gone into it so there’s a level of anticipation.”

The most overwhelming emotion though, is relief.

“Because it’s taken such a long time. I’m excited to go on to the next phase of my career.”

#louis tomlinson #tw death #020220 #wpress #tw drug #fizzy tomlinson #the sun #fabulous magazine #im tired alrady #stunt mention #i cleared it up

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lnc2 · 5 years ago

Text

Second Intention (2/?)

Second Intention

Summary: Lila knows. Tikki panics. Chaos ensues.

AO3

Chapter Two

The Dupain-Chengs set two extra places for dinner.

It was difficult, getting Madame Tsurugi to agree to the change in schedule. Only Adrien’s presence and a white lie kept Kagami from being whisked away in her family limo. Marinette wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or unnerved.

On the one hand, explanations were needed. On the other hand… did Kagami really need to be around for this conversation with Adrien?

Chat Noir.

That revelation alone was two extra hands on a whole separate body. Collapsing against the tile notwithstanding– was it any wonder she had a headache?

Marinette couldn’t read her companions’ expressions as she scrambled into her bedroom. The ice queen lived up to her name as she took in the pink walls, pink rugs, and pink accents that decorated the room. Something inside her bristled– an ugly, hateful shame. A fear of judgment and desire to judge in return. Marinette squashed it down and deep.

Adrien was less an enigma. Chat Noir had always been an open book. It was uncomfortably easy to figure out what he was thinking now that she knew to look for it. It’s the looking that was the problem.

God help her she wasn’t ready for any of this.

“We should move to the balcony,” She said, closing the trapdoor behind her. “My parents will eavesdrop otherwise.”

She corralled the two up her loft and onto the balcony, ignoring Tikki’s nervous fussing as Marinette took the stairs.

“You need to lie down,” She said, buzzing around her head. Marinette waved her away.

“I’m fine, Tikki. It was just a panic attack.”

She turned to face the hatch when she saw Adrien’s hand stretching down for her.

“Please, my lady.” His eyes were glittering, anxious in the afternoon light. “Let us take care of you.”

She took his hand.

Kagami was standing by the balcony railing, back to them. With Tikki and Adrien herding her towards the reclining chair, Marinette wondered where she stood in this awkward little trio. Then wondered whether Kagami was thinking the same thing.

“So...” She said, when the silence stretched beyond the limits of comfort.

“So…” Adrien mimicked, eyes searching, never leaving her face. It was more than a little unnerving, especially with his hand still wrapped around her own. Marinette knew her cheeks were red and dreaded the sweat she knew was pooling in her palms.

God help her she really, really wasn’t ready for this.

Thankfully, someone else was.

“You’re Ladybug.” Kagami said, pinning Marinette with her foil sharp gaze. “And Adrien you’re Chat Noir.”

Adrien nodded, somewhat sheepishly, and released Marinette’s hand to rub the back of his neck.

“This...” Kagami said, face inscrutable. “This makes sense now.”

She stopped herself from asking how and begging for the girl to enlighten her because Marinette was still reeling from it all. Instead she leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes, for once happy to let her partner take the lead.

He knew this not-quite-enemy better than her anyways.

“Where do you want us to start?” He asked.

Kagami took a seat on the ground.

“Start at the beginning.”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The beginning took time and Kagami was not shy asking questions. Marinette wished the incisive girl saw less than she suspected she did. Thankfully the more delicate topics, something she doubted Kagami could understand, were artfully deflected or avoided altogether. A fortuitous minesweep that left a field of emotional bombs in its wake. The leftovers ready to be picked up in her next conversation with Adrien.

“Tonight?” He’d asked, quietly.

Marinette nodded even though what she really wanted to do was crawl under her covers and never come out again. But that’s not what a responsible heroine would do and after everything else that happened today she was determined to prove herself responsible.

Besides, Lila was an issue that couldn’t be put off forever.

Adrien gestured towards the Gorilla and his waiting limo. Kagami shook her head.

“No thank you. My driver will be along shortly.” She turned to go back into the bakery.

Marinette shot Adrien a frantic look. The useless boy merely shrugged.

She waited a minute or two after he’d driven off, hoping Kagami’s driver would arrive and put an end to this unlooked for tete-a-tete. Tikki failed her in this regard, however, and Marinette reluctantly rejoined her guest in the stairway.

“I owe you an apology.” Kagami said.

Marinette blinked. “... You do?”

“For the ice rink.” She said, pursing her lips. “Things were more complicated than I’d initially seen.”

“Oh.” Marinette stared down at the carpet. “It’s not… Thank you. I’m sorry, too.”

Images of the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie premiere danced through her head. A moment of weakness where she’d let Chloe get the best of her better judgment. The damage might have been avoided, but it was definitely not one of her prouder moments. Even if Kagami was ultimately ignorant of her bad intentions.

She nodded.

The silence was awful. Heavy and thick.

Her next words slashed through it like a sword.

“He likes you, you know.”

Marinette’s heart skipped. Kagami continued, frowning.

“I don’t think he realized before today. But he did.”

She swallowed down the bare-faced truth of that statement, knowing all too well how much Chat Noir was willing to do for her. And yet, there was a photo of two fencing partners tucked beside a dried up rose nestled somewhere in his heart.

Marinette sighed. “He likes you too.”

“Perhaps.” Kagami conceded. “We’ll see.”

A bleak declaration for an increasingly bleak conversation. And yet, she continued on.

“I wanted to say thank you, Marinette. Losing control… letting my emotions get away from me… being akumatized. Those were not my proudest moments.”

“It’s never anyone’s fault when they get akumatized.” She said, finding comfort and strength in that knowledge at least. “Hawkmoth takes advantage of us in our darkest moments. No one would hold that against you.”

“You have a soft heart.”

Despite herself, Marinette laughed. “Thank you?”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” Kagami said, but she was nearly smiling all the same.

Her cell phone pinged, signaling the arrival of her driver. What little humor remained in her expression disappeared.

“That girl,” She said lips curling. “Whatever you decide to do. If I can help in any way...”

“We’ll let you know.” Marinette said. She hesitated before reaching out and taking the other girl’s hand, squeezing it softly. “Thank you.”

Kagami stared down at their joined hands.

“Good luck.”

#miraculous ladybug #lnc2 writes #kagadrinette #second intention

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bapydemonprincess · 5 years ago

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“You make my heart happy.” with Mey-rin and preferably Sebastian if you can do that again? That last story with them was so cute!! ^w^

Thank you!! Uh, I hope you don’t mind me doing something short, I’m not up to top form right now, but I did want to try writing, so I hope you don’t mind this! It also is another OT3 between Sebastian Mey and Grelle, hope that’s ok too. :3

They’d all gone out to a big winter ball, everyone of them dressed to the nines in the loveliest formal wear, and even when getting to the ball, Mey-rin and Sebastian had gotten to meet up with their lovely red reaper, who twirled around gloriously in a glistening red gown, trimmed with white fluff at the bottom, and her long hair magically up in a huge nest of a bun.

“What do you think, my little snow bunnies?” She’d asked the two, and of course Sebastian Michaelis, in a stunning dark pitch tuxedo and the darkest red vest she’d ever seen, gave the reaper a galliant bow and looked over her entire form with the sweep of his red eyes, instantly transfixed and glimmering.

“Getting to see you here and in such a bright, glorious gown to fit this night is just the perfect surprise, rufina. How you even manage to get away to be with us is truly a Christmas Miracle.”

Of course this made their reaper turn red in the face, slapping her equally bright red gloved hands over her face and squealing a little.

“Oh stop, you will make me burst, Bassy! And we haven’t even started! Now, let me get a good full look at my Mey Mey..” Grelle purred as her eyes had locked onto the other woman, and she too a step closer to grasp Mey-rin’s hands.

Of course, in such a public event, the lady reaper knew she could only do so much before rising ire with the damnedable humans who didn’t truly understand love, but she did what she could to show her little human lover she was absolutely smitten with her as well and happy to be in her presence.

“Where did you get this gown, my dear? It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen on you!” She cried, squeezing Mey-rin’s smaller hands.

“Oh- well- I- N-Nina insisted she do the honors of fitting me one, yes.” Mey-rin mumbled out, a little overwhelmed of the attention she was suddenly getting, not only from Grelle but also having Sebastian’s firm big hand behind her and always pressed to her waist, like maybe the man was a little afraid to let her go.

Before Grelle could respond to this news, though, Sebastian spoke up. “Don’t worry, I was keeping an eye on them when I could. I believe Nina knew by now my intentions and knew her days of putting her hands where they did not belong were over.” He looked quite proud of this as well, for the butler who was also a demon was very selfish when it came to what he knew to be his. He stood proud next to Mey-rin, chest puffed a little bit, as if he’d won a grand prize and was the proudest man there to do so.

Grelle nodded firmly in approval too, coming in even closer to Mey-rin and quickly giving the girl’s rosie complexion a firm kiss on the cheek.

“Good!” She said simply, and then her seriousness was gone as she grinned again and pulled a little at the other girl. “Come on now, let’s go to properly blend in with all the others at th drinks table! Bassy likely has to get back to the brat for a while anyways!”

Indeed work still called for the butler, who deflated a little, but still nodded and smiled to his ladies. Especially giving Mey-rin a reassuring look to know that if anything should happen, he’d be there in a flash.

It had all gone pretty smoothly from there, as she and Grelle indeed got to bustle about, talking about this and that like some kind of horrid Christmas party going on in the reaper realm’s office and Grelle being very much glad she had somewhere else to be.

And Mey-rin just filled her in on the familiar shenanigans at the manor. Nothing much new, just their young master’s only family as always coming along and trying to cheer the poor gloomy boy up with presents. Especially his fiancee, whom he currently had to spend time with now.

And the evening went on, Mey-rin being lulled by the music slowing, watching out as all the couples danced, and occasionally glimpsing Sebastian across the way.. Seeing a similar longing in those red eyes of his, but.. different as well.

Grelle, too, stayed right by her the whole time, swaying back and forth, back an forth, as if to make up for not having a partner right now. And at one point, she threw caution to the wind a little and grabbed Mey-rin’s hand, simply to hold it while she kept bobbing back and forth.

Her look at Mey-rin said it all. She was happy just being here with her, even if nothing more happened tonight. And Mey-rin grew flush again, but tried her best to show she agreed by squeezing back.

At one point, though, something had changed, and Grelle suddenly let go of her hand. “Ah!” She gasped, staring out at something, but Mey-rin not being quite sure what..

“Grelle? What is it??” She asked, and reached out almost instinctively.

Grelle immediately turned back to her and grabbed her hand with both of her own this time, squeezing and staring into her face with such an EXCITED look that Mey-rin felt her anxiety start to kick up!!

“Come with me to a side balcony, love. There’s someone I know who has been dying to meet you!” Was all Grelle told her in explanation, and then YANKED Mey-rin forward, dragging her straight through all the dancing couples, and to two big glass balcony doors.

Once she’d pushed the girl out into the dimly lit balcony, only the glow from inside making it easy to traverse, Grelle finally gave her little flustered maid a firm kiss, nearly dipping her into a bow right there!

“Whuh- what was that for??” Mey-rin gasped out, blinking and tryng to get her glasses to unfog.

“For good luck, Mey Mey! For good luck!!” The woman gushed, and smooched her again, but this time on the forehead.

And then she drew back, backpedaling and holding her hands up in caution before her. “Stay right here, sweetie! It’ll only be a moment!!”

And then Mey-rin was alone.

She could only stare, wobbling in place after. Her mind an absolute mess! Why was Grelle suddenly so excited for introducing Mey-rin to meet someone? Was this a family member of hers that still lived in this realm and Grelle had stayed in touch with somehow?? Were the two on such good terms that she’d entrusted this person with knowledge about her love life over here?! About Mey-rin?? Oh wow, this had Mey-rin panicking a little! Was she about to be JUDGED by someone who’d known Grelle Sutcliff before she’d become a reaper?! Before ANYONE had known her before now??

Oh no, someone was coming to the doors. TWO someones. One was Grelle again, thankfully, the other a smaller woman. She looked almost up to Mey-rin’s height, though, and equally just as intimidated as they’d stepped forward.

But she looked so.. lovely. Her skin soft and almost glowing in the dark, hair pitched black and curled up in a loose bun, and her long deep maroon gown sparkling, shimmering with tiny flecks of sorts.

“Here we are, loves.” Grelle murmured, sounding already so satisfied even if nothing had happened yet. “I wish we could be inside for this so you two could share a lovely dance, but perhaps the silent night is better for this.”

“Yes, erm, he-hello,” Mey-rin spoke up and held out her hand to cordially greet the other young lady, “My name is um, Mey-rin, yes it is! And it’s a pleasure to meet you you, Miss..?”

The woman had smiled further and further as Mey-rin spoke, and Mey-rin wasn’t sure if her lips were purely black or an even deeper red than her gown. Was she making a fool of herself again? Oh dear..

“Michaelis,” the lady purred out, and lifted a dainty pale hand to put it into Mey-rin’s, curling around it tight and squeezing. Her eyes stayed glued on Mey-rin’s, gradually getting redder and redder as well. “Sebastian Michaelis.”

And Mey-rin was about to faint.

“Se… Se… Se-Se-SEBASTIAN?!” She shrieked a little loudly, followed by Grelle on the side slapping her hands over her own mouth and practically bending over, her muffled laughter squeaking out between her fingers here and there.

Sebastian simply stepped in even closer, tutting softly at the girl for making such a racket, and tilted herself in to give Mey-rin a soft, brief kiss on the right cheek while the girl was still frozen in shock. She couldn’t help it! Mey-rin’s reaction was just too adorable to resist.

“Well, what do you think, dear? Am I… anything like what you imagined?” Sebastian hesitantly asked, for despite her bold move just then, she still couldn’t help feeling a bit timid at finally showing her human lover this side of her.

“You… yo-you are…” Mey-rin mumbled out, starting to tremble in place, her lips quivering and her chest rising and falling.. Grelle noticed this and took a step in closer, too. All silliness gone.. Had they miscalculated?!

But suddenly Mey-rin was closing the gap, lifting her arms and wrapping them around the other, curling in all the way, moving one hand to the back of Sebastian’s head and pulling that in too. She started to whimper as she did this, and nuzzled her head up against Sebastian’s.

“Oh Sebastian, you’re so PERFECT!” She sobbed out, shutting her eyes tight. “This makes me so, so happy, yes it does!! Getting to see you like this! Getting to hold you!! Just.. just… having you in my life..” She felt tears streaking down her face and likely beginning to drip onto her love’s shoulder and back, but she couldn’t hold back now. “Y-You make my heart so happy, yes you do! You, a-and Grelle, and just bein’ here!!”

Grelle had not expected this turn of events, and didn’t expect to find herself tearing up now as well. “Oh goodness, Mey, what brought this about?!” She choked out, and yet didn’t wait for an answer. She just had to swoop in and join the two smaller ladies, wrapping her longer arms around both and squeezing too.

And Sebastian Michaelis, who was now a little bit crushed between both of her ladies, simply began purring against her will as she shut her eyes and beamed to herself.

This night in all it’s entirety had truly become a wonderful gift.

#Anonymous #My writing #writing prompt #drabble #Mey rin #grelle sutcliff #sebastian michaelis #Sebamey #Sebagrelle #sebagrellerin #Fembastian #Hope you enjoy!!

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enchantment1385 · 5 years ago

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Jereth Amell ~ AKA: Commander Smexy ~ A pointless rundown

Name: Jereth Edward Amell

Birthdate: 19th of Matrinalis / August Official Title/Titles: Commander of the Grey. Defender of the fifth Blight. Hero of Ferelden. Unofficial titles: Commander smexy. Master of Chaos (magic). And, by others as, The luckiest idiot in Thedas. And, The biggest threat to it’s safety. Class: Uh... Middle, ish? OH! Mage. Chaos mage. Previous occupation: Mage of the Ferelden circle. (Were you in high standing?) Are you going to talk to the circle..? (No?) Then yes. Very high standing. They were very sad to let me go. One of the darkest days for them in fact. Catchphrase:

And “Yup, I totally planned that.” Said before/during/ and after something DOESN’T go to plan, yet some stroke of luck intervenes. And/Or, just before the distant screams, and/or raging fire starts. Nicknames: Walking catastrophe. Hobbies: Knitting. What?? Knitting happens to be a very manly hobbie! Wynne told me so. Proudest moment/s: Beating Isabella at cards. It took 9 and a half hours, and everyone 'claims’ she just gave up out of pity and boredom, but how would they know? They were all passed out! It was all part of my strategy to wear her down, and it worked. That... Or killing Senior Enchanter Uldred. That was a personal highlight. I don’t care if the Wardens 'like’ it or not. That guy was a douchebag arsehat. Let’s see you laugh at my spells backfiring now, you dick! Most shameful moment/s: None. Well... The time I accidently set fire to half of the library, several apprentices, and a load of Templars in the circle... Twice. Or, that time I accidentally electrocuted my team in Blackmarsh... I guess the incident at the Landsmeet was pretty bad too.(?) (You mean, Loghain?) No. I accidently let go of the sword and... It sort of... Slipped out of my hand and slightly cleaved a couple of nobles who were in the way. Was not a pretty sight. Faceclaim: Lee Pace

Voiceclaim: James Marsters as Spike.

youtube

Theme tune:

youtube

#jereth amell #warden amell #chaos mage #walking catastrophe #my OC #Grey Warden #dragon age origins #rundown #character development

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purplesurveys · 5 years ago

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476

If someone's laughing, do you instantly think they're laughing at you? Egh no, not really. I’ve had people laugh at me but I do know about it; I’ve never felt paranoid like this. What is the strangest thing you've been asked? My mom’s masseuse asked me if I was pregnant after taking a good look at me and deciding I looked familiar. It felt weird and eerie until I told my parents about it the next day and they said “Oh yeah, she’s the one with the third eye.” Didn’t feel as strange after that, but at the time when she looked me dead in the eye and asked me that question it was definitely so weird lmao. What’s the weirdest thing about life that people just accept as normal? Sometimes I wonder how people from the far past got to decide how certain animals were safe to eat even though they a) clearly scream danger, b) have such a complex way of being consumed (like crabs), or c) ARE STRAIGHT UP POISONOUS (like the pufferfish in Japan). But hey, we’re all eating them right now.

What was your favorite game as a child? I liked local games. We had langit-lupa (heaven and earth), piko (hopscotch), ice-ice water (freeze tag), Chinese garter, 10-20, and patintero. What’s the stupidest thing you've ever heard? Anything that comes out of conservative Catholics’ mouths.

What's the most random thing you've done out of boredom? It would have to be that time that I got really depressed last December and I spent all my Christmas savings meant for friends and family on a bunch of coloring books and my own set of coloring pencils. All for myself. It’s a little morbid, but whaever. What show did your parents not let you watch as a kid? My parents were pretty liberal and weren’t too strict about shows. My mom absolutely hated Mr. Bean though because she was convinced he was the reason my brother didn’t start talking until he was like 6. She would change the channel if it was on, but she didn’t outright ban us or anything. What is your personal catchphrase? I don’t have one. What is the most pleasurable feeling that doesn't involve anything sexual? Biting into your favorite food after a whole day of not eating. What was your 'Oops, wrong person' moment? I don’t think I have one. I’d die of embarrassment. What do you find attractive that isn't considered 'normal' attraction? I really can’t bring myself to be into the muscular/buff look and don’t mind if someone is on the bigger side, is skinny, or is generelly not a gym person. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done drunk? Fell asleep in the pool. What's your proudest moment in the bathroom? ?????? What’s something you own that gets you lots of compliments? Technically not mine, but Gabie would lend me a windbreaker-type of jacket that was very colorful. It was green, yellow, pink, basically a very bright and gay jacket. I got complimented on it EVERY SINGLE TIME I wore it by nearly every single person who passed by me in school – and I wish I was kidding lmao. She got it in Baguio for 50 pesos ($1), it’s insane. I think it was lost by another person she lent it to. A damn shame. If money was no object, where would you want to live? Canada. Who is your favourite mythological character? In the brief moment I was into mythology, I really liked the way Rick Riordan wrote Apollo to be in his Percy Jackson series. Big ol’goofball. What's something that's happened which couldn't happen at a worse time? [continued from this afternoon] > Had the sign for my gas start blinking while I was stuck in standstill traffic > Get into a car accident while finally making a turn to the gas station > Get pulled over by an officer for changing a lane and nearly hitting a car, because unbeknownst to me, the accident had closed my right side mirror, making me not see my entire right side and I almost hit the car to my right All happened within ten minutes. I was a freshman in high school and couldn’t be more terrified. Police let me go when I started having a panic attack. What is the best pickup line you've ever heard? I don’t like pickup lines. What did aging ruin for you? Dreams. What is the most hilarious thing you’ve ever heard? Idk, I’ve found a lot of things hilarious. What is the darkest thing you have seen on the internet? It would be either Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared or Too Many Cooks. What's something you really enjoy, but can't have? A regularly luxurious life. What Wikipedia article have you recently read? OMG hahaha so there were times in internship where nothing was tasked to me FOR HOURS and I would get super bored. Then I remember hearing from somewhere that Wikipedia has a whole article that’s just a list of unusual deaths that’s happened from modern history until the present, and I gobbled that shit up until I was given a responsibility. I found out more listicles they apparently had – list of last words, list of people who disappeared mysteriously, etc; read all of those too. What's a book you were made to read in school that you really liked? My #1 would have to be Without Seeing the Dawn by Steven Javellana. It’s the most honest narration of the Philippines’ Japanese occupation I’ve ever read. It’s painful to read, but it’s the beauty of it. What objective did you fail to complete this week? I told myself I was gonna start externals work for my org, but I’ve just been so burned out in the last month that I haven’t gotten around to starting yet. I definitely have to this week, though so it’s not like I’ll completely fail it. What could have gotten worse for you but it didn't? Tbh the desire to end my life? I threw in the towel by the time I was 12, but I’m still here so I guess life is doing something right.

What subject should be taught at schools, but isn't? Adulting. Like being taught about taxes, social security, insurance, documents they ask when you apply for a job, etc. I’m 21 and I know nothing about these. I didn’t even know what insurance meant until I was 20. What is the best thing about having a Significant Other? The idea of having a go-to person for everything is very comforting for me. What makes you unusually uncomfortable? Distorted sound effects. It’s probably not unusual though. What is an upcoming purchase you're excited about? It’s no longer future tense because I was finally able to find Pop-Tarts at the nearby mall! I couldn’t find it ANYWHERE in the last couple of years and I’ve been craving it for the same period of time. Then Gab convinced me to try the supermarket at the mall we went to today and we found a box of Chocolate Fudge gloriously sitting on one of the shelves. It was way more expensive than I remember it being, but I waited for so long that I just grabbed it and didn’t care about my budget anymore. What is the worst game you've ever played? The Hannah Montana game for the Wii that I had was so bad it was good. What’s the oddest thing you like to do? I don’t think I have particularly odd habits. What's the funniest news story you've seen in the past few weeks? There’s a satirical article I came across a week ago that was about how dinosaurs got extinct because they ate pineapples on pizza. It was made even more hilarious by the fact that it included a graphic of dinosaurs and there were slices of pizza with pineapples on them photoshopped into the graphic. Definitely pissed off a number of pineapple enthusiasts that day lmaaaaao. What do you really really want right now? I’m so excited to eat my Pop-Tarts but I think I should save them for tomorrow. What do you hide from people? Suicidal thoughts, because I never wanna bother anyone. What was the first sign you knew you had a crush on someone? When I actively avoided her because it hurt to see her. HAHAHAH yuck drama What's the best lemonade you've made from the lemons life gave you? Lasting long enough to create a family in the form of my orgmates. Who was your cartoon crush while growing up? Sam from Totally Spies. What's the best way to deal with religious door knockers? We don’t have that culture here but I most likely would just never open the door. What’s the most hypocritical thing you’ve ever seen or heard? A large chunk of Catholics. Who’s the most interesting person you’ve ever met? When I was still interning at my PR firm, I shadowed my supervisor in an interview that one of our clients had for that day. Our client’s representative is the biggest badass I’ve met. He’s from South Africa and was born and raised at a time when apartheid was still around. He’s white, so he was brainwashed in school to think that they were superior and for a time, he really thought his race was. Then he got to work under Nelson Mandela’s party when he was much older and that was the only time he realized how backwards that mindset was. Anyway he had Mandela’s spies stalk his ass every single day because of his background and he ultimately got shot twice. There’s loads more stories to tell but I don’t want to give him away.

When I was watching him get interviewed he proved to have a lot of knowledge on history and current events too so that’s another plus. He was just super cool and it was a breath of fresh air to talk to a foreigner that was more aware of social situations than the average Filipino. What just doesn't impress you? Carly Rae Jepsen. What’s the worst possible way to introduce yourself? There’s no worst way; just don’t try too hard because the bullshit can be detected so easily. What makes you wish that you were born in the past or the future? How easy it was to make a living and score a job decades ago. What tragic event was coincidentally beneficial to you? My breakup. What's something people are proud of, but it doesn't impress you? ‘Miracles.’ What's the worst possible moment to go and play on a bouncy castle? Doing it with a bunch of sweaty, rowdy kids. Who is the greatest ever comedian? Not really into comedians so my recommendations might suck for some. What’s your irrational fear? Commercials at night. What's your oldest memory? Playing in a Winnie the Pooh tent when I was 3. What can you not wake up without? Checking the time. What did you think was cool when you were younger that you now think isn’t? Wristbands. What are your favourite or most memorable lines from any movie/show? “How do you like them apples?” from Good Will Hunting. What's something people love to hate? The Kardashians. What’s something that is underrated but extremely useful? Being polite.

#survey #surveys

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ronynz · 6 years ago

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Kageyama / Hinata Angels & Demons hcs

Right so I got this req a long time ago, don't know who sent it but thanks. It's a continuation of my angels/demons hcs. Sorry if it sucks

Angels and demons have always been at odds wwith each other since the dawn of time.

Neither race could remotely stand each other; and both races believed themselves to be the superior race.

It is precisely for these reasons that there has never been an angel/demon couple or hybrid child. Never. At least not until a certain angel and demon came into existence.

Neither seemed like their race at first glance. And of course, it made sense that the two most unlikely angels and demons turned out to be soulmates. Soulmates. The only one in the multiverse made for you alone. Your best friend, your confidant, heck likely even your spouse.

Of course, a certain milk lover, born an angel, was soulmates with a certain redhead. Their meeting was pure chance; both having gotten lost in the endless, dreary plains of Asphodel.

Both were looking around, searching for their respective exit portals. Their wandering eyes met for a brief moment, and both instinctively began pushing through the mass of souls to get to each other.

Only to find that the other was of a different race.

"What? How can this be? Why are you here? It can't be. You can't be..." Shouyou sputtered.

"But I am. You are my soulmate." The angel replies, somewhat confused about his soulmate's reaction to him. But yet on the same time, he himself also questioned whether it was truly possible. Soulmates of the same gender? Possible but unlikely. Soulmates of the same gender and different races? Now that, was something never seen before in all of history. Never. Not once. Ever.

This was the start to what would, in the future, be one of their trademark pointless arguments.

The duo bickered. And bickered. And bickered some more. So much to the point souls around them were pleading with them to shut up and let them die in peace.

That was until another demon made his entrance. As did another angel. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? An angel picking on my spawn?" A deceptively sweet voice crooned. Every head turned to the source of the voice, only to see the demon king Sugawara.

"What do you mean my child picking on your spawn? It's clearly the other way round!" The deeper voice of the angel king boomed out in indignance.

At this, both kings turned to their respective spawns, an unspoken order for the two to explain the situation.

"I got lost and he- he" " I was lost and happened to find my soulmate"; Shouyou stutters while Tobio plainly states.

Both kings turned back to each other, understanding clear on their faces alongside a plethora of doubts.

Everyone in the two kingdoms were shocked to say the least. An angel and a demon. Soulmates. A male demon and a male angel. The very thing they were told was impossible just became a reality.

It took some time for everyone to get used to the idea of it, but their own families were more than supportive of them; after all, no one could deny soulmates their right to be close. Nishinoya and Yamaguchi especially so, both rooting for the angel/demon pair from the beginning.

Not to say that Shouyou and Tobio got along well; their arguments were a daily affair at this point. But yet the two seemed to enjoy each other's presence more and more each day. It was undeniable that the two were meant to be. The pair met daily, spending each evening together. Tobio would bring Shouyou to his kingdom for walks in the Garden of Eden; Shouyou would invite Tobio to his to join in their volleyball games.

Turns out the angel is a volleyball genius - taking to it like a duck to water, while the demon was surprisingly adept at gardening of all things.

The two had multitudes of nickname/insults for each other; and were extremely competitive. Rock, paper, scissors; running; even speed eating was a contest to them.

They grew closer day by day, confiding in each other and comforting the other. In the time it took for everyone to be acceptive and supportive of the duo, they'd already become a couple of two years.

Their wedding three more years later came as no surprise. They'd held it twice - once in heaven and the other in hell, just so everyone could attend. And each time, the respective kings gave them his blessing and wedded them.

There was not a single dry eye as the duo shared their vows. Some from laughter, others for other reasons.

"Shouyou, the day I met you, I was lost. I was lost and then I found you. Since then, you've been my sunshine. You make me happy when the skies are gray. You're a demon, but you're far from it. People have said we shouldn't be together, but with you every day gets a little sweeter. They don't know about the things we do, they don't know about our I Love You's. You're the spike to my set. You've brought so much colour into my life and now I just want to tell the world that you're mine...."

"Tobio... we've been wandering apart, a million miles apart, going nowhere for the longest time. And then I found you. I found you in my darkest hour. I found you in the pouring rain. We've been through a lot together and we will face more together. And I'll climb every mountain, and swim every ocean just to be with you. You're the ying to my yang. Thank you for the past five years, they've been awesome. Heaven knows how I love you and I can't wait for eternity with you..."

The two were gifted a house of their own as a wedding gift. Exactly on the heaven-hell border so that both would be equally close to home.

Needless to say, the two continued arguing about the mundane, continued giving everyone diabetes, continued playing volleyball, continued loving each other.

Of course, their nickname/insults still continued. Only now, it's become extremely sappy. Angel/love, darling/prince...

No one in either kingdom batted an eye when the pair announced they were going to be parents. In fact, many even commented that it was "about time", while others simply congratulated them.

They had a pair of twins, the elder a boy and the younger a girl. The boy, Haruki, was a ginger with Tobio's features. The girl, Harumi, was a bluenette with Shouyoi's features. Of course, both grew up with the love of volleyball inculcated into them. Coincidence or not, both grew to become acknowledged as the top setters of their respective genders.

Needless to say, Shouyou and Tobio were the proudest parents ever. They even made it a point to wear couple tees to their childrens matches. All of them. Heaven and hell could only watch as the twins redefined setting while the angel and demon defied all social norms.

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potatowithimagination · 6 years ago

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Without Him

Summary: Sebastian uses you to get his ex-girlfriend's attention.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, slight mention of depression, asshole Sebastian (I’m sure he won’t do something like this in real life)

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 1,8k

A/N: this is my first imagine, and English is not my first language, so I’m really sorry if there’s any grammatical errors. Feedback is always appreciated :)

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It’s a freezing night when you opened your ex-boyfriend’s apartment door in the heart of NYC. You haven’t got your chance to hand over your set of keys that he gave to you a few months ago yet.

It’s been two weeks since you broke up with him. Or did he the one who was break up with you? You just don’t know. Everything was just confusing.

Everything went well with your and Sebastian’s relationship. He was the nicest person you’ve ever known, so understanding, always there for you when you needed him, and vice versa. You were happy. He was happy. Or you thought so. It felt like you understood each other very well. Joked around, shared secrets, movie nights, romantic dinner in the dining room, little fight here and there, and love making was passionate. You both were happy.

He wanted to make your relationship private and you were okay with that. Of course there were moments when it sadden you because you can’t be there for him when he needed you, like when he met some rude fans, or during his happiest and proudest moments on the red carpet, or just casual occasions when he was hanging out with his friends, but you respect his decision. You knew how hard was it for him to have privacy, so you just went with it. As long as he was happy.

Until one day, around a month ago, he decided to take you outside for a romantic dinner. And to a coffee shop in the next morning. And grocery store the next evening. He even introduced you to some of his friends. Public went wild, paparazzi snapped pictures of you but Seb did not hold back. He intertwined his fingers with yours, hugged you, even kissed you in public. He made you believe that he loved you, but you should’ve known.

On the day when it happened, you did exactly what you just do. Opened the apartment door with your key after a long day of work. Smile was on your face, knowing that you could hug your boyfriend again in a minute. Until you heard him on the phone with someone.

‘What? Y/N? yeah, I just took her out in public to make you jealous so I can get your attention. I knew you’d call. After we met again on that coffee shop the other day I honestly can’t get you out of my head any-‘

And that was when he turned around and saw you. And that was when you felt your heart shattered you swore you could hear it.

‘I-I have to go.’ Seb said and put his phone down. ‘Y/N let me explain, please’ he plead.

You just shook your head. Tears streamed down your face as you looked at his mesmerizing eyes. The eyes you once loved. The eyes now filled with guilt as they looked at you.

‘I think what you said on the phone explain everything, Seb’ you answered.

You walked backward to your shared bedroom, still looked into his eyes in disbelieve. He tried to get you but you threw your hands up. ‘Don’t touch me!’ you said, followed by a ‘I’m an idiot. Of course he wanted to take me out in public for a wicked reason. Stupid!’ that you mumbled to yourself.

‘Y/N please. I know I’m guilty but what we shared was real. I loved you. I’m sorry, I really do.’

And there’s when you lost it. You laughed so hard like you were crazy. Tears still streamed down your face.

‘LOVED?! Yeah, right. Past tense. Great!’ you started to pack your things which was not many because you still actually lived in your own apartment anyway. ‘You USED me, Sebastian!’

You continued to pack your things up. Got down on your knees to grab your books in the lower shelf of his nightstand.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. Please, please let me explain’

You ignored him, got up and suddenly felt light headed. Great, your low blood pressure made you suffer in a wrong time. Your legs gave out, you fell to your knees, and Seb was suddenly there to catch you.

‘Hey, hey, Babe. I’ve got you. You okay?’

‘Get. Away. From. Me.’ You tried to break free from his arm and got up, ignored the pounding headache he just gave you and started to walk away, out of the place you once called home, and a man you once called love.

***

You shake away the unpleasant memory you have in this room. You’re back here with just one mission. You have to get it right and quick before Sebastian and his new (ex?) girlfriend (what’s her name again? Martha? Maria?) come back.

You open his drawer one by one, and search his bookshelf but can’t find the one thing that you’re looking for. You try to open his bedroom door even though you know it’s inappropriate, but find out that it’s locked. Typical Sebastian, the voice in your head says, wants to make sure everything is safe before going out.

You can call or text him if you want, actually, but you just don’t want to. Of course you don’t want to talk or meet him after what he did to you. He hurt you so damn much that you cried in your room and even skipped your meals for three days straight. The next few days you found it was better to drown your sadness in alcohol, and after you got bored with the alcohol phase you started to swallow some kind of pills that can help you to sleep. Hell, you still take those pills in your sleepless night till now.

And just when you start to walk away from the bedroom door you hear the front door creaks open. ‘Shit!’ you say to yourself. There he is, the amazing Sebastian Stan walks inside, follows by his girlfriend (Morgana? Marion?) and to your surprise, some of his friends. You feel petrified, looking at how they throw their head back, laughing at some jokes they shared. He looks so happy, as handsome as ever. His girlfriend also looks gorgeous and lovely, and suddenly you understand why he loves her. Meanwhile here you are, look miserable with your worn sweater and a pair of washed jeans. If they look like hot potatoes, then you look like a rotten one. Now you understand why he never took you out and left you just like that.

‘Y/N? What are you doing here?’ he finally says when he sees you, put an arm protectively around his girl. His girl. You feel disgusted by those words.

‘I’m calling the police.’ Medusa, let’s just call her that, says and grabs her phone from inside of her branded bag.

‘I have a key, so I don’t think it counts as illegal.’ you smirk, raising your eyebrows, trying so hard to look strong in front of the audiences. ‘Besides, I don’t think you want to throw away our story to the public, right? People will talk once you make a scene by calling the police.’

Medusa hisses and puts her phone back to her bag.

‘Calm down, Babe, it’s okay.’ Sebastian tighten his arm on her. Babe. He once called you that too. He changed it to Love, Honey, or Sweetheart, sometimes. It feels like a long time ago. ‘What are you doing here, Y/N? Do you need anything? Is there anything I can help you with?’ he asks again. His voice is calm and actually filled with concern.

You look down, feel the mixture of ashamed and disgust in the pit of your stomach and say, ‘I’m sorry I came here without letting you know first. I knocked but you didn’t answer, I swear, so I just used the key you gave me. I just- I’m looking for something. I looked everywhere in my house but I couldn’t find it so I thought that I left it here.’

‘Is it your journal?’

You look up to him. Straight on his blue eyes. ‘Yes. Yes, it is. Is it here?’

That journal is everything to you. You write and draw, sometimes, everything on it. From the happiest memories of your life, to the deepest, cruellest, and most depressing feelings your soul owns. It filled with black heart and skull drawing, with dark poetry full of swear words the day your parents decided to split up. It then changed to red heart and flowers drawing, with lines and lines of happy sentences when you were dating Sebastian. It’s very personal that you never let anyone, including Seb, read it. You didn’t want him to know the darkest part of yourself just yet because you were afraid that he’d left you. Later did you know, he didn’t need that to do it. And now when you feel depressed after the break up and you feel like writing some shitty miserable prose about it, you found out that the journal was nowhere in sight.

‘It dropped from your bag when you rushed out of here, Y/N. I saved it, yes. Just wait here, I’ll get it for you.’ Sebastian says. He walks to his room, unlock the door, and gets inside.

You just stand there, don’t know what to do. Medusa look at you like a prey. Her red, long nails ready to torn your skin apart. And his friends look at you sympathetically. You give a weak smile to them and they smile back.

You jump a little when you hear Seb close the bedroom door rather roughly. ‘Here it is.’ he says and hands it to you. ‘I didn’t read it, don’t worry.’ You take the beaten up journal and examine it, don’t know what you’re looking for. Probably just worried that some stranded pages would fall to the ground spilling your secrets.

‘Can I talk to you for a second?’ Sebastian interrupt you and your thoughts. You haven’t even thank him yet for handed you your journal. Yes, you’re a polite person, believe it or not.

‘There’s nothing left to talk about.’ You answer coldly. ‘Besides, I bet Medusa here won’t like that.’ Yeah, you call her with that name out loud. You realized that the second her pretty face twisted and she takes a step closer to you. Seb’s friends, in the other hand, try so hard to supress their laughter and look at you with amused eyes. Seb’s arm once again find her waist and kisses her temple to calm her down. He fucking dare to kiss her in front of you.

You have enough. Mumble a quick thank you to him, you walk away to the door. You stop for a moment, reach the set of keys that he gave you from your bag, show it to him before you put it down in a cabinet by the door, like saying here’s the damn key. I don’t have anything to do with your life anymore.

You manage to say ‘Goodbye Sebastian.’ before you slam the goddamn door behind you. You don’t know if you’re ready but you know that you brave enough to live a new cold life. Without Sebastian.

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel #mcu

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