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#and her peers and is so comfortable behind her high walls and within herself (also to a fault)
panncakes · 2 months
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"If you look closely, you'll see that Latte is the only being Ongsa talks to."
23.5 (2024)
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NSFW Below:
Do you think you could write a fic or blurb about the prompt below? Thank you for your time!!
(Kaeya x AFAB Reader preferably, but please work within your comfort zone.)
As the honorary knight Jean implores you to go on a stakeout for some abyss legionnaires.
Captain Kaeya and his troops are to escort you and a few choice others to the designated meeting spot. As it's getting late, the troops are forced to make camp at Stormterrors Lair.
You end up snuggling with your beloved Kaeya in his private tent, whispering sweet nothings, and I love you's that tenderly lead to more... tantalizing positions. The heat between the two of you increases, as your intertwined sillouettees could be seen from the outside. Elongated figures illuminated by a lone lamp within the tent.
All of a sudden, the boreal night air, shocks the tension from your embrace. Peering down now at you now were a few flustered knights; who were hoping to talk strategy with the Captain. But this? This was not what they expected...
Kaeya was not amused
The Lantern in the Night
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The night is cool. In contrast to your shared tent
(\ _ /)
(v × v)
Kaeya x reader
Warning!!! NSFW below the cut
Reader is in the role of the Traveler, hurt/comfort, nightmares, cuddling, smut, oral (receiving), love confessions, denied orgasm, creampie.
Note: I made Kaeya so sweet and soft in this wtf!? Also to the requester, I'm so sorry this took so long for me to write! But I wanted to have this done well. Thank you for requesting this delicious fic <3! I changed a few things but it mostly sticks to the plot above.
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It’s been a while since you’ve seen your beloved, Kaeya. 2 months to be exact. And 4 months since you’ve last seen your sibling. But you are back in Mondstat after your travels in Liyue, and the first thing you did was rush to the Knights of Favonius building.
“I love you too, Kaeya,” you felt him pull you into a deep hug, cuddling you to a sweet dream.
“Come on, Paimon. We have to see go see Kaeya!” You said running along the walls of the city.
“Wait! [Name]! You’re running too fast! Paimon can barely keep up with you,” you heard Paimon’s high voice behind you, “You always want to see that guy! Paimon just doesn’t understand.”
“It’s just that he’s someone special to me,” you said reaching the Knights of Favonius building and grabbing the grand handle.
As you opened the door you immediately bumped into Jean, “Oh [Name]! Perfect timing, we need your help.” She guided you and Paimon upstairs and into a well-spaced room, inside was a crowd of knights surrounding a table with a map on it. And at the center of it, Kaeya was conducting the meeting. Jean leans slightly downward to whisper into your ear, “According to Amber, she saw multiple abyss lectors along Stormterror’s lair. We don’t know what they’re planning, so we intend to set up camp southeast of the tower. I was hoping if you could join us, maybe we can find some info about your sibling.” 
“Of course!” you replied eagerly. You heard Paimon say something about ‘being too excited’ and you shot her a glare.
With that Kaeya ended the meeting, and as the knights shifted towards the exit, Kaeya approached you. You were so excited, practically vibrating where you were standing. You just wanted to hug him then and there, but there were still a few knights lingering in the room, so you had to hold it in. That is, until Kaeya slipped his fingers between your own. “Ah,  [Name], you’re back,” you beamed up at him, and he returned the favor, “ready to join my scouting squad?”
“As I’ll ever be,” you said holding back an overly happy grin.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Paimon squeezed herself between you and Kaeya, effectively causing a distance between you two, “Don’t touch [Name] like that! Paimon knows what kind of sly -”
“Paimon relax, there’s nothing for you to worry about,” you try calming her down, and it worked.
“Come on Paimon. I thought we were friends,” Kaeya says with a slightly mocking tone in his voice, “we can trust each other right?”
“Humph! Just because [Name] trusts you, doesn’t mean Paimon does!” she crosses her arms, “but Paimon will let it slide since [Name] wants me to.”
Kaeya lets out an amusing laugh, before turning to you, “We head out first thing tomorrow. Feel free to stay here for the night.”
The next day came, and you set off into Stomterror’s lair. Kaeya’s legion and you spent the entire day searching for clues to at least one abyss lector. But none came up. By the end of the day, you were exhausted,  you found a spot away from the group, sitting down on a nearby rock as you try and catch your breath. From where you were sitting, you could see Dvalin’s home vividly, the wind blew through your hair and you started to reminisce the days when your sibling was there.
“You seem awfully lonely,” You perked up at the sound of a familiar voice. It was Kaeya, standing behind you before approaching you sitting next to you on that same rock. “What seems to be troubling you?”
“Ah, it’s nothing,” you sighed out, looking down at the ground below you.
“You say it’s nothing, but I know when something’s bugging you,” Kaeya easily saw through you.
“It’s just,” you paused, “My brother has been missing for almost a year now. And with the way I saw him last, it doesn’t seem like I’ll see him for a long time.” Kaeya stared at you, holding onto every word and waiting for you to finish. “And I’m worried, that something’s going to happen that’ll hurt both of us.”
You felt a hand on your shoulder, soothing you before pulling you close to Kaeya’s side, “don’t worry, I’m positive it’ll work out just fine.”
That didn’t really make you feel better about the situation, but you realized at that moment, that you didn’t have to go through this alone. You had many people backing you up, at least Kaeya and Paimon if it wasn’t that many. You felt yourself get soft, nuzzling yourself against Kaeya’s chest to hide the fact there were tears in your eyes.
The air was still, the evening sun poured down on the two of you. And in that moment, you two were finally alone. Watching the wind near Stomterror’s lair swirl around the tower, and feeling a moment of complete and pure contentment.
The sun had set, and the sky soon turned dark blue. Your face was dry but still resting on Kaeya’s side. “We should probably go back to the campsite,” you felt Kaeya’s voice vibrate your face, “wouldn’t want people thinking of us, right?” You hummed, picking your head off of his chest.
You two walked towards the camp, imminently greeted by Amber.
“Hey you two!” the brunette walked up to you, “where have you been? We just pulled out some food for dinner.”
“We were just out surveying the area one more time. We were worried about lectors appearing at nightfall so we stayed out a bit more.” Kaeya responded casually.
“Well, if you want, there’s still some food leftover, but you’d better hurry quickly or there won’t be any more food.”
“Got it,” you said, passing Amber.
Once you retired to your tent, you found a sleeping Paimon under the covers. You admired her sleeping face, a lot cuter when she wasn’t yelling. You slipped under the blanket and let your dreams take you away.
You woke up, laying in a field filled with blue flowers and grass. You rolled over to your side, pushing yourself up from the ground below. The sky was swirling with stars and galaxies you haven’t discovered yet. It was purely and truly amazing how your mind created these images. You pull your gaze down and towards the skyline. There in the distance, you could see him.
Your brother, he was standing in front of an eye-blinding white door. You could only see a few features of his face the same way you remembered them; his hair, his clothes, his face. You got up, racing towards him. You were so excited to see your brother one more time and to hopefully leave this world together. But as you approached him, you noticed something shifted. Instead of the normal smile he always wore, his face looked almost disappointed.
You realized if you didn’t make it soon, he’ll will leave without you. Your legs carried your body as fast as they could, but as you continued to run, your sibling got further away. You shouted out to your brother, but he turned to face the door and walked through without you.
Suddenly, you were surrounded by darkness, and the ground below you caved in. You were falling, fast and hard, and into a pit that could very well kill you. Your body was filled with anxiety, you shut your eyes and you let the striking pain take over your stomach and being.
You jolted awake, staring at the top of the tent, covered in sweating and lightly shaking. You got up, breathing deeply through your nose, turning over to see Paimon still sleeping. You knew you couldn't wake her up to talk about the dream you had, so you got up and left the tent.
You walked around the campsite, it was dark, and you could barely see. Except for a light smearing through a tent. If you remembered correctly, that one was Kaeya’s, and he’s still awake. You paced yourself to his tent, still worried that it wasn’t his tent. You knocked on the door (even if it dipped when you press it).
“Come in,” it was Kaeya’s voice. You ducked under the folds to see Kaeya writing something down in a journal, probably a report to send back to Jean. “Oh, hey [Name]. I thought you went to bed?”
“I had a nightmare,” you said scratching the back of your neck.
“Really? How old are you?” he flashed a smirk, before going back to the journal.
“Har, Har.” you paused for a moment, standing awkwardly. 
“I’m about to go to sleep, you want to sleep with me?” He read your mind, and you silently nodded yes.
You situated yourself under the blanket and Kaeya soon followed after you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Hey you’re crushing me!” you tried wiggling from his reach smiling.
“Am I really?” he wrapped his hand around your side, pulling you closer to him. You giggle, facing the man, then you suddenly blushed. He stared at you with such loving eyes and a gentle smile that can win over anyone’s heart.
You covered your eyes, trying to hide your blushing face, “Kaeya, stop looking like that. You’ll give an impression that you fell for someone."
“Oh? Praytell who do you think I fell for?”
“I don’t know, but it’s making me embarrassed,” you said pushing your face deeper into your hands.
“If you are embarrassed from just that, you’re going to be very flustered when I tell you who I fell for.” Kaeya felt you jolt into his chest, he let out a soft laugh pulling you tighter into a hug.
“Don’t say it Kaeya,” you muffled your voice in his chest.
“The person I fell for is the one currently in my arms,” he placed his chin on top of your head. You groaned, and sunk down under the covers, “Hey where are you going?” He pulled you back up, rolling over to have you on top of him. “Stay up here with me,” he pressed a kiss on your cheek and you perked up.
You stared at him, asking him to continue with your eyes, and he happily obliged. Pecking all over your face, down to your neck. His fingers found your own, interlocking them together, guiding them up over the blanket to continue kissing there. “K-kaeya!” you giggled allowing yourself to be rolled over to your back by the man.
You felt heat rise in between your thighs, you squeezed together your thighs trying to relieve the pressure. Kaeya always managed to get you all riled up without even trying. “Kaeya,” you whispered, his eyes wandered up and down the land of your body, noticing your thighs pressed together. He closed the space between you and him, finally locking your lips together.
You couldn’t stand it anymore, your hips lifted themselves to meet Kaeya’s. He broke the kiss, allowing himself to attack your neck once more. This time, biting and sucking hickeys onto your neck. His hand traveled down up under your skirt, to your hips. He slotted his body between your legs, pressing his covered cock against your wet panties. You gasped loudly, grounding your hips onto Kaeya’s.
“My, my. [Name], you’re being a bit needy,” he chuckled against your neck. You whined, fingers lightly gripping Kaeya’s blue hair. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you,” he said sliding his pants down and revealing his hard cock. He quickly disrobed you, leaving you to feel the slightly cold air. His head dipped down, licking your perked-up nipple, before sucking and kissing your breast.
He kept going lower and lower, and before you could realize it, he was already there at your hot core, licking and prodding with his tongue. Your hips jolted, rocking back and forth into his mouth. You moaned and whimpered, clutching Kaeya’s hair, trying to keep him there. He popped off of your pussy, rolling his tongue over your clit. “[Name], you have to be quiet. You don’t want our fellow knights hearing us, do you?” You slapped a hand over your mouth, still rolling your hips upward.
“Kaeya, it feels so good,” you whispered.
“I bet it does,” he said, pressing two fingers against your hole, easily sinking them both in. You muffled your moans into your hand, rocking your hips down on his slender digits. “Good girl,” he praised, going back down on your pussy, “I bet I can put it in now. You want me to put it in?”
You nodded your head, “Yes Kaeya please- AUgh~!” he curled his fingers upward, pressing against your g-spot. You glare at him as he let out a soft laugh.
“Sorry,” he came back up to kiss your lips. You tasted a bit of yourself through that. He sat you down on his lap, still kissing you, before guiding his cock to your hole. His cock deliciously pushed against your walls, filling you up with every inch he pushed into you. He was slow, not wanting to rush things and have you loudly moan, alerting everyone.
You sighed as he bottomed out, Kaeya’s hands rested on your ass. He peppered kisses along your shoulder to your neck, then to your chin. “Kaeya, I,” you paused seeing him look at you, “Nevermind.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“It’s nothing,” you placed your head on his shoulder.
“[Name], you really are an open book,” he laughed, “I love you too.”
Your face lit up into flames, you pressed your head into his chest, "same here". His hands rubbed circles into your back, calming you down.
He hummed, "I'm going to move now," his hips slowly pressed up into you before dropping down. His cock perfectly glided in and out of you, brushing over your g-spot over and over again. You sighed out, feeling pleasure all over your body. It was messy over your thighs, Kaeya prepares you a bit too well sometimes. The sound that came from his hips bucking into you drove you wild.
You couldn't really moan, you were filled up with love that all you could say was his name softly. Meanwhile, Kaeya was marking your skin up and down. Your chest, your hands, your shoulders, everything. He was loving it all.
His touches sent you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your pussy fluttered around him, as his cock bumped into your g-spot. You were so close, and as you were about to release the knot that grew in you. You heard a voice outside the tent.
"Captain, are you ok in there?"
You both froze, you hadn’t made a lot of noise, only a few heavy pants, and sighs. But you could see how you two got caught. “Yes, I’m fine,” Kaeya said slipping his cock out of you, leaving you to clench around nothing, “What do you need?”
“We are about to go over the strategy for tomorrow. We need you to be present.”
“I’ll be out there in a few minutes, go on without me,” he picked you off of his lap, seemingly preparing himself to leave.
“It’s fine Captain, I can wait for you.”
“Damn newbies,” you heard Kaeya mudder under his breath. Kaeya fixed his clothes, and you covered yourself with the blanket. Kaeya left the tent, “Let's head off then.”
You two weren’t sly at all. The smell of sex in the tent, the lump in Kaeya’s bed, Kaeya looking like he is two seconds away from exploding. The knight could easily pick up that Kaeya was in the middle of pleasing you, causing him to blush. “R-r-right this way Captain.”
Your heart pounded so hard you could feel it in your mouth. Once you heard the tent’s zipper zip close, a wave of relief washed over you. More importantly, you didn’t get to cum. Nor did Kaeya. Which was upsetting, to say the least. So you waited for him to return, so you could finish.
It took an hour before he would come back. Once he did, he was back on you again, stimulating and teasing you.
“Kaeya~ I’m cumming,” you whispered underneath him. His hips smacked into yours, while his fingers played with your clit.
“Good, I can feel you around me. It’s so good,” he cooed into your ear. You came, legs wrapped around Kaeya’s waist, pressing him deep inside of you. Kaeya followed soon after, grunting into your ear, painting your walls with his cum. “Fuck, [Name]. I love you so much.”
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helenadurazzo · 1 year
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The Wanderer
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Jacob Thomas Durazzo’s family was full of great, wealthy, and accomplished people, starting off with both sets of his grandparents who are noble families in the Kingdom of Clubs and have had their status for centuries. His father works on maintaining the economy of Clubs while his mother works as a researcher, studying the medicinal properties of plants. His paternal aunt, develops medicine while his paternal uncle trains creatures to help serve in the Clubs military as aids to the soldiers, such as his aunt, who was a top general in the army and would later retire in favor of teaching at the Kingdom’s best academy.
As a member of the upper class society of Clubs and living within the Kingdom’s capital, he, his younger sister Helena, and his cousins often solely interacted with the kids from other rich parents with one example being Alex and Cato Reese who often came to visit him and Helena. Even if school he did not interact with anyone from the lower classes as most of the people who attended the school, were higher up members of society, although there were a few exceptions. He often enjoyed visiting his maternal grandparents, not because he enjoyed their spacious and fancy home, but because he enjoyed observing the farms in the surrounding areas.
His instructors were impressed by his skills and labeled him as a gifted kid, something young Jacob enjoyed at first as it gave him more attention among his peers. However, as he grew up, he goofed off more and started caring less and less about studies, falling particularly behind when it came to mathematics. Suddenly, school, had turned from a fun experience where he could hang out with his friends, to a boring experience where he would just have to wait impatiently for the final bell to ring. In addition, he was never really fond of the idea of going to university because of this, but knew that he had to because of his family’s reputation, although
Alessandro and Olivia would later comfort him when they informed him it didn’t matter what he chose.
At university, he decided to pursue a degree in history as, because of his family members who were historians, it did hold some interest to him. However, all of his instructors were very stiff and no-nonsense, making him dislike it. He tried other activities such as the Abraxan Derby, but quit after one try when he was knocked off his Abraxan and ended up in the hospital due to a broken arm, and as such, has not flown on an Abraxan since. He got extremely bored with being within four walls and longed to explore the natural beauty of the Kingdom of Clubs, as such, he made the decision to drop out of university, choosing to ignore anyone who opposed his decision.
Rivals of his family tried to use the fact that Jacob dropped out of university to give the Durazzo Family a bad light. His maternal grandparents in particular were very disappointed in him and didn’t hide it and often blamed Olivia for influencing him and not stopping him. It was also very shocking as Jacob was set to be the heir of the Durazzo Family and as such, it was expected for him to graduate from university and get a high paying job. However, after dropping out, Jacob worked small side jobs and would assist his mother in traveling on various trails in the Kingdom and gathering her plants to study when she didn’t have time to do so herself
For the most part, Jacob was satisfied with his new found freedom with only have two instances where he doubted his life choices. The first of which was when his sister became one of the King’s advisors, and eventually rose up to be his Jack, the highest position an advisor could get in the Kingdom of Clubs. His sister had always been much more studious than her, so it was not much of a surprise that she got such an impressive job title not too long after her graduation from university. Still, it made him feel like he wasn’t protecting her the way he should have as an older brother, even though she told him not to worry about it as he was happy with his life.
The second was when it came to trying to impress, Angelica Cole, an esteemed Creature Marshall for the Kingdom of Clubs. He had noticed her before but never developed his feelings for her until later (ironically she had a crush on him but grew out of it after Jacob was so oblivious), he worries that, as he is not successful compared to others, she would not even spare him a passing glance. However, he does eventually win her over with time and effort. However, overall, Jacob gained recognition for his discoveries that he made while wandering around the wonderful natural beauty that is the Kingdom of Clubs.
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mikkomacko · 3 years
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Ok thanks. What do you think about Stucky comforting reader for some reason?
A/n: Hiii. I hope this is ok! My first time writing stucky x reader but it was cool. I might just have to do an expanded Stucky fic 👀
~
It's well known throughout the Avengers that y/n is the kryptonite to every super soldier. At least she is to the two super soldiers they know, because only she can turn Steve and Bucky into overbearing boyfriends.
"Sam, do you have eyes on y/n and Nat?"
Steve grunts, kicking his attacker square in the chest and sending the man to the pavement. Bucky's follows closely behind, the former soldier slamming his own attacker into the ground so hard it cracks under his spine. Both lie there in a heap of sweat and blood.
"Sam?" Bucky asks angrily when they receive no response. Behind them, Wands and Tony shift through the rubble and debris of the two buildings that had been attacked, blown to pieces by the terrorist group in front of them. With civilian casualties high, y/n and Nat had taken up the job of evacuating everyone within the threatened area. But it's been too long since he's heard anything from the two through their comms.
"I've got sights on Nat but y/n is no where to be seen."
Another fly over from Sam, this time closer to the ground but still nothing certain on the missing Avenger. "I've got heat signatures in a damaged office building over here but I can't tell if it's her or not."
Steve and Bucky share a look, concerned for their girl as always, and begin heading over to the building.
"Romanoff you better fucking answer!" Bucky spits into his comms, boots crunching in the rubble under his feet.
A static breaks through, followed by the breathless voice of Natasha. "You're not the only one fighting terrorists Barnes," she bites back. "I cleared the west blocks, lost y/n when she went east. I'm guessing her comms are down."
"Was she evacuating the buildings?" Steve asks, approaching the block y/n is supposedly on.
"Think so. The one closest to you guys. She was worried it'd come down from the blast."
Steve and Bucky pick up the pace, relief flooding through them when a group of civilians rushes out of the building y/n was clearing.
"Is anyone still inside?" Steve asks them, while Bucky cranes his head up to look through the shattered windows. Before any of the survivors can answer, the building behind to rumble, the boom of an explosion going off cutting off whatever answer was being given.
Immediately shielding the civilians, Steve looks up in horror just in time to see the building split into two crumpled pieces, the top half collapsing into the building next to it.
~
There's a ringing in her ears, throbbing in her head and the taste of iron floods her mouth. Groaning, she lifts herself up enough to find that she's braced against a column, smoke and dust clouding her vision but she knows that something is off. The world around her has tilted, leaving the walls as the ground beneath her feet.
An explosion, she concludes, racking her brain for what she'd been doing when the bomb went off. A civilian, she remembers, the last one on the top floor, a young intern frozen in fear as battle rang out around him. Forgetting that she lost her comms in a fight earlier, she reaches for ear to call for backup. Instead, she's met with slick, warm blood and a tender skull.
Grey, the boy's name had been Grey. He'd told her during her attempt to guide him out from under his desk.
"I promise I can get you outta here Grey." She had sworn, and she intends to fulfill that. Unsteadily, she rides to her feet, balancing herself on the rubble around her.
"Grey?" She calls out, voice rough. "Grey if you're here I need a noise, a movement, something!"
She strains her eyes, searching through the mess of grey and charred black. Finally, a flash of ash ridden green, the color he'd been wearing. She watches as he rises to his knees, a gash on his forehead and blood dripping from his ears too.
Quick but careful, she makes her way through destroyed desks and crumpled walls until she's close enough to see how utterly screwed Grey is. A window. He's balanced on a cracked window, one surrounding by other empty window panes.
The boy trembles, helpless as his terrified eyes find hers. She burries her panic, doing her best to appear calm and confident.
"It's ok," she comforts, "I just need you stay very still ok? Let me come to you."
Grey nods, lip wavering in fear. Y/n takes a deep breath, hesitantly stepping onto the panel between two broken windows. When it holds her weight easily, she continues.
"Its breaking," Grey says weakly, peering down the splintering window at the street below them. Y/n doesn't get a good look, but she thinks she can make out two familiar men below. Steve and Bucky. Relief floods through her. They'll send Sam, she just needs to get Grey off that window.
"Don't look down," she instructs, "look at me. Keep your eyes on me."
He complies, tear filled eyes meeting hers again. It's a slow progress, checking the beams to find which ones she can walk on. She does her best to distract Grey, telling him of Sam and the boys below, how she knows they'll be up soon to help. Until then, he's gotta trust her.
"I do," he swears, "I trust you."
And there's relief when she gets a window away from him, prepared to quickly tug him to safety after she steadies her feet. But then the ripped half of the building is quivering, dropping a few feet down and the window is breaking before she gets enough time to grab him.
Panicked, she throws herself out of the window after him, left hand gripping the window pane while the right locks around his wrist. The pull in her shoulder is almost paralyzing as his weight comes to an abrupt stop. She's fairly certain it's dislocated or at the least something's torn, but the adrenaline in her veins keeps her grip strong.
"Y/n!"
Her feet dangle wildly, Grey squeezing her hand for dear life as he hangs 60 feet above ground. Steve and Bucky call out for her, something she doesn't quite pick up because she's too busy trying to calm Grey's hyperventilating body. He's wiggling, panicking, legs swinging in a frenzy like they're trying to find solid ground.
"Grey I need you to stop, if you keep moving I'll slip." As if proving her point, the sweat on her palm becomes slippery. He listens, for the most part, but he can't help the way his body quivers and shakes with cries.
"Sam's grounded!" Steve shouts from below, a panic in his voice she's not used to. "Hang on sweetheart, Stark is coming!"
She doesn't answer, can't answer because her muscles and tendons are screaming and burning, begging her to let go, and the fingers in Grey's hold have gone numb. A few more seconds, painfully long seconds, and the sound of the Iron Man suit floods her ears. Another brief moment of relief, one that also doesn't last because Grey has lost his grip and before she can even think of instructing to him to just hold on for one more second, she loses her grip on the boy and his scream overpowers Tony's thrusters as he falls to the pavement below.
~
Tony got her down safely. Caught her mid fall after she'd jumped after Grey in a weak attempt to save him. By the time her feet touch the ground, she's bolting, heading for the backside of the building where the body of the boy sits. The weak swing of her shoulder and the limp in her right leg slows her down, enough for Bucky to easily catch up to her and halt her. She fights his hold, desperate as he shushes and calms her.
Steve follows closely behind, assisting Bucky in taking care of their girl. Somehow, through a haze they get her to the Quinjet, both working on cleaning up her wounds during the painfully silent flight home. Y/n remains dazed and quiet as they take her to her bedroom, getting her in the shower, bandaged and dressed. Bucky is brushing out her wet hair on the edge of the bed while Steve fluffs the pillows when she finally speaks.
"I had him," she says, voice wavering. "I just needed a few more seconds. If I had held on-"
"Don't do that doll," Bucky interrupts sternly, pulling her into his lap. "don't think about the what ifs, you saved so many lives today. You did what you were supposed to."
She doesn't say anything but they know her well enough to know that she still doesn't believe them. Steve moves to sit next to them, wrapping one arm around her and one around Bucky.
"This job doesn't come without casualties sweetheart, we all know that. You stopped as many as you could and we're so proud of you for that."
His words bring her to tears, painful, heart cutting sobs that force both super soldiers to bite back their own tears. They hold her even tighter, soothing her with kisses and promises of making it better, of assuring her that it won't always hurt.
And once she's all cried out, puffy eyes and bones like cooked noodles, they tuck her into the middle of the bed, sandwiching her between their strong, warm bodies. Somewhere safe and comforting, where she can rest knowing they've got her and they won't be letting go anytime soon.
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lovelytaes-blog · 3 years
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Happily - jjk
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pairings: dad!jk x mom!oc
summary: you and your husband finally decide to have a baby, and nothing ever felt more complete than this. 
warning(s): fluff!!! kook jokes about taking long to knock you up, but other than that, nothing but cuteness and domestic shit. there’s definitely a make out sess in this, but that should be the most sexual thing??? please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!! 
word count: ~1.5k - i know, it’s short, it’s just supposed to be cute and fluffy!!
↳ euphoria drabbles
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notes: this is actually a part of my ‘euphoria’ drabble, which consists of one more part (the other part is like a prequal, if you can even call it that lol). honestly, bts as father’s is just sooo wholesome, that I had to write one about kook. I wanted to thank @xpeachesncream for reading my stuff and giving me the confidence to post. She’s the sweetest soul ever, so please read her stories, they’ll take you on a magnificent journey. 
this is also my very first post, so please be nice ((: 
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The soft snores from your husband filled the room as you lay beside him. His hair tussled perfectly against his face while the moon’s light kissed his skin. You resist the urge to brush your fingers along his sculpted jawline, hesitantly hovering your fingers over his face. You quietly smiled at him with adoration. How could you have gotten so lucky?
It was late and you knew it, you should be catching up on sleep just like your husband, however, you couldn’t find it in you to shut your eyes. You couldn’t be happier, tired nonetheless, but you were—are—happy.
You heard rustling in the crib beside you, and quiet sniffles causes you to turn around gently to peer into the baby bed beside you. You were greeted with wide eyes that twinkled in the moonlight and a small baby smile appeared on your precious baby’s face, causing you to coo at her. She returned it, excitedly flailing around in her little bed making grab hands for you. Shifting your eyes to the clock, 1:24 am, you shuffled in your bed to pick her up.
This wasn’t abnormal for her to wake up at this time. You had put her down at around 7pm, but tonight she had slept for 6 hours straight before waking up. You were lucky, your baby rarely cried when she wakes up, of course, unless she’s hungry. However, all in all, she wasn’t one to cry and you were so thankful for that. She never wailed like one of your best friends, Jin’s wife, had warned you that might happen.
“Let’s let your Daddy sleep, yeah?” You whispered to Ailiseu as you carried her out the door, shutting it quietly. Her big doe eyes—which she inherited from her father—twinkled up at you; bending forward, your baby gave you an open mouth kiss, slobbering all over your cheeks causing you to giggle softly. Descending down the stairs of your home, you plop yourself down on the couch, propping Ailiseu on your lap.
You loved having mommy time with your little girl, her little laughs could easily brighten your day, even if you were exhausted. You’ve been sleeping well, Aili even let you nap for 2 hours today, which probably explains your lack of tiredness. While playing peek-a-boo for what seemed like hours, you started to notice Ailiseu’s change in attitude. Her lips started to tremble and her eyes began to water.
“Oh, baby,” You whispered as she started to sob quietly. You quickly put her in position to feed, and to your relief, she began immediately. Rocking back and forth while she fed, you heard the sounds of footsteps descending the stairs.
“Jagiya?”
You peered behind you to see your husband scratching his head with droopy eyes. His eyes squinted to find yours and he walked towards you with a tired smile. Rounding the couch, he sat beside you, placing a lingering kiss on the side of your head, before he gently placed his large hand on Aili’s head, who immediately detached herself from you and peered up to her father with a baby pout, almost resembling one of your scowls.
“Kook, you know she hates when you interrupt her feeding.” You giggled as she nudged his hand away to continue. Jungkook sighed withdrawing his hand from her head to place it around you instead.
“She’s only been alive for 6 months and she’s already picked up her mommy’s hangry attitude.” He moaned throwing his head back against the couch. Silently laughing to yourself as Ailiseu quickly finished up. Jungkook quickly took her from you and placed her on his shoulder to burp her. He softly patted her back as you leaned in closer to him.
“Good girl, Aili,” He praised when your baby burped, “you’re so cute.” He placed a kiss on her head, and soon enough, your quiet living room filled with gentle snores from the little girl resting on your husband’s shoulder.
“How come you left bed?” Jungkook questioned.
“Hmm,” You hummed, “took a long nap today, couldn’t sleep.” You stared at the pictures on the walls of your home.
Jungkook at the age of 16 and you at 15. You were dating back in high school, but this was the first picture of you two that you took together. You remembered that night so well. Kook and you had been friends forever, it was about time the two of you started to like each other way more than just friends. Everyone called it from the start that the two of you were meant to be together. The night that the picture was taken, was the first time you two officially became a couple. He had taken you to the skating rink, something you two loved to do, but it felt different. He wasn’t just skating beside you; he finally held your hand. Not in a friendly way either like you normally did, no, he interlaced his fingers between yours. You had felt butterflies erupt in your stomach as he squeezed them while the two of you made rounds and rounds around the rink. It was a blissful first date.
Smiling you gazed at another picture of you and Kook. It was your graduation picture. Jungkook had his hair in a small man bun and curls littering his forehead. He had one arm wrapped around your waist and the other on your cap, his signature bunny smile present on his face while looking down at you. You were in the middle of laughing up at him with your degree in your hand and a bouquet of hydrangeas, the other gripping his waist. Your smile widened when you caught a glimpse of your engagement ring sitting comfortably on your left hand, the simple, yet beautiful rock glimmering in the picture.
The next photo of the two of you was a collage of your wedding day. The middle picture, of course, was of you and Kook looking at each other with giddy smiles, foreheads touching, and your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist pulling you in. All across the picture were snapshots of your entourage. Your bridesmaids and you in your room before you had to walk down the aisle. You were clinking glasses together with big smiles all around. Jungkook’s entourage consisted of the boys all fist bumping or patting the maknae’s back with large smiles. Next set of pictures within the collage, were pictures with your parents and Kook’s family, your mother and Kook’s mother were kissing both of your faces, while both your father’s made silly faces in the back. Lastly, the last picture of your collage was a picture of you and Kook with your hands intertwined and raised above your heads as a married couple. It was a beautiful shot that the photographer got; it was close up, but you could still see the blurred background of your entourages smiling with joy, the flower petals that were falling, and the beautiful sight of wind catching in your veil.
You peered up at Kook who, too, was smiling at the pictures all around.
“We’ve been together for a while, huh?” You heard your husband chuckle while he cradled Ailiseu. You nodded with a grin.
“7 years, baby.” Jungkook hummed.
“Married for 2 years,” He smiled at you, “with the cutest baby girl, I could ever ask for.” He nuzzled his nose into Aili’s cheeks, causing her to stir with furrowed eyebrows.
 “Crazy, right?” You giggled while reaching over and stroking her head full of hair.
“Crazy that it had taken me this long to knock you up.” He teased.
“Kook!” You groaned slapping his tattooed arm. His deep chuckle filled your ears like music.
“I’m only teasing, jagi,” He smirked, “come on, let’s head up.” He stood up slowly making sure your baby girl doesn’t wake up as he gently takes your hand and leads you up the stairs. Once in your room, he placed Aili in her bed and tugged you to your shared one.
“I love you.” He whispered before pressing his lips to yours. Melting into the kiss, your hands reaching up to his dyed blonde hair, allowing your fingers to play with it gently. It was a sweet kiss full of love. The kind of kiss that you both have shared for years, the kiss that never fails to erupt your stomach with the same butterflies that you have felt all those years ago, and the kiss that makes you fall more in love with him every day.
Clutching your sides, Jungkook tugs you on top of him, lips still attached. You could feel him smiling into the kiss before he pulled away to gaze up at you. His doe eyes that you have always loved stared at you with a cheeky grin before he pecked your lips a couple more times.
“I love you more, Kook.” You whispered as you two held each other close before drifting off to sleep.
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dreadwulf · 3 years
Text
1. It Was There That I Saw You
He hears it over the radio that first time. 
“The Blue Angel is down.”
One of those crummy broadcasting setups that still run out of universities sometimes. Ancient amateur stations he picks up on the road while trying to plot out a route to the family compound around the Others. They announce sightings sometimes, rather like weather reports, or traffic updates. Undead on Highway 11, detour recommended.
The roads are clear that evening, and the drive is as quiet and peaceful as a biodiesel vehicle can manage, except for the news on the radio.
"The Blue Angel is down, and our world grows a little bit colder and darker," the radio man says.
Jaime switches off the receiver. He shakes his head slightly as he drives the ungainly armored car along the winding road, peering into the dusk without headlights. The radio man doesn’t know the Blue Angel. He’s some punk kid, was probably at uni when the Others first attacked and hasn’t ventured outside since. That’s who still broadcasts these days, old student outfits barricaded inside their campuses. This kid doesn’t know the Blue Angel’s name, probably doesn’t even know she's a woman. He will pay him no mind.
But he leaves the radio off for the rest of the journey.
At the Rock he pulls the car into the oversized garage and erects the usual gates and barriers behind him to keep the Others out. These precautions he can do in his sleep now, and he hardly has to think on them. He is more fortunate than most, now - living in a walled compound in a walled city offers a stability most people no longer have, one that would have been unheard of not very long ago. It gives him a more uneventful life, even some creature comforts. It's also, in his opinion, dreadfully boring. Which is why he never stays for long.
His thoughts pivot around the voice on the radio. The Blue Angel. He gave her that name, years ago, before anyone knew her at all. When it was just the two of them on the Kingsroad, and she was hardly more than a kid herself. Does the kid on the radio know that? No, he assuredly does not. The kid on the radio doesn’t know anything. 
His brother Tyrion will have heard the news elsewhere. He doesn’t listen to radio, wouldn’t have any reason to since he never leaves the compound. But he has his own sources.
His brother is the second person to tell him, when Jaime walks into the front office loosening his tie. As expected, Tyrion’s still working - it would be either that or reading, even when the house goes dark. Their generator only runs a few hours a day, and his brother keeps right on working by lamplight when the time’s up. 
Tyrion has taken over the family business, as well as the mansion and all its high walls. That happened after the rest of the family had been wiped out, while Jaime had been away. Ironic that he had survived them all, considering he had been essentially left to die when the Others came. Like many of the sick and disabled, there had not been much provision for his physical difficulties as a little person and he had been left to fend for himself. Anyone who couldn’t defend themselves was SOL in that first year. How he had even gotten himself home from uni is a bit of a mystery to Jaime. By the time Jaime managed to get himself there, his brother was already gone, and it had taken them a very long time to find one another again. 
It had been his brother’s cleverness helped him survive, not his big brother, to both of their disappointment. Said cleverness certainly keeps them in business now.
Tyrion probably hasn’t looked up from his ledgers in hours, but he looks up when Jaime comes in, and keeps looking.
“Blue Angel’s down,” Tyrion mentions casually, but he is watching him closely.
“So they say.” Jaime whirls off his long coat and throws it over a chair. He has to sit right across from Tyrion to get within the circle of lamplight.
His brother’s mind works just a little bit faster than other people’s. The software he runs on is a little bit sharper, and before you can quite get a statement out, he is already replying. He gets bored of the formality of all these extra words and niceties. He doesn’t quite realize how obnoxious this is. As a result, Jaime never needs to say much. Tyrion will have most of the conversation without him.
“You don’t believe them,” Tyrion surmises, pushing his papers aside. An ill-fitting pair of glasses slides down the end of his scarred nose, and he has to catch them before they can fall off. Even Lannisters have troubles with eyewear these days. “I know you think she’s indestructible.”
“Near indestructible.” Insolently, Jaime puts his feet up on his brother’s nice mahogany desk, which used to be their father’s nice mahogany desk. Something about this room makes him act like a rebellious teenager. “It will take more than an amateur disk jockey passing on rumors to convince me.”
“True, rumors have been wrong before. I’ve heard that you were dead too, when you rode the Kingsroad.”
They don’t speak much of that time. Tyrion hated that Jaime abandoned the family to serve as a glorified mailman for five years, as he calls it. Escorting people and messages across the dangerous countryside in the early days of the Disaster might have made his name, and eventually added to the family’s renown, but this personal betrayal his brother has never forgiven. What he really hates, of course, is that Jaime left him alone with their father. 
Jaime lets it pass, jokes with him. “I probably started that rumor myself, at least once.”
“Don’t let this distract you,” he says. Tyrion’s mismatched eyes go back to his ledgers meaningfully. “Running Lannisport is enough work, without you running off all the time. We’re trying to bring the Riverlands into the fold. I need you on task, not obsessing over a girl.”
Jaime snorts. Tyrion can hardly lecture him on distractions. Little he may be, he has no trouble acquiring female companionship. He seems to have a different lady on his arm every time Jaime comes around. Sometimes two. 
Tyrion rolls his eyes. “Don’t start. My girls are different. I’m not mooning around after them years after they’re gone. When I lose one, I find another. You need another woman, Jaime.”
“With me running off all the time? Who’s going to tolerate that?” Jaime is bored of this conversation already. They’ve had it many times before. 
“Romantics. That’s who. You’re off risking your life to join the old nation together again, you’re a dashing hero. Plus the whole Kingsroad adventure. Women love that. You could be swimming in girls if you spared them half a glance. It’s been five years, Jaime.” 
“Four,” Jaime corrects him. Four years, three months, and eleven-or-so days. 
Tyrion says this more solemnly, looking over his glasses, “If the rumor isn’t true this time, someday it will be.”
He looks very much like their father when he does that, which is unwelcome. Jaime snatches his feet off the desk and wanders away to find something to eat, the big Lannister mansion resounding emptily around him. 
He manages to avoid his brother until he can head out again - he rarely passes more than a night at a time in this house. He checks for messages, refills his supplies, gets a proper shower, all of which he can do in a few hours. Such safety he finds oddly uncomfortable, if he lingers too long. He’ll be leaving the next day, and out the door before Tyrion is even out of his bed. 
The traveling, on the other hand, takes an age. Not even he travels very fast these days. The armored car, which is more of a delivery truck, doesn’t get over 50kph, and shudders and lurches at the upper end. Real petrol might perk up his engine, but petrol is rare these days, and he can refuel the biodiesel at most settlements now. So he drives slowly and is on the road almost constantly, and stops at Casterly Rock as infrequently as he can manage. 
Soon Jaime is hearing the same rumor everywhere, in snatches. He travels through the guarded and gated villages of the Riverlands on a regular circuit, drives through miles of nothing between aettlements, edging around clusters of Others that still live beyond the city lights. As he exchanges goods, messages, and information, he hears of the Blue Angel. Edges of conversation, news bulletins, idle conversation with gasoline sellers. His hosts at Pennytree gossip over it at dinner while passing around the green beans.
Did you hear about the Blue Angel? Damn shame. 
Jaime always agrees wordlessly. People still like to feed him, remembering his own time guarding the Kingsroad in the beginning of the new era. He hasn’t been the Slayer in four years, has been a politician-cum-envoy for far longer than he ever battled the Others, but he is far better known still for the former. Arguing with his hosts would be pointless. He just finishes his meal, salvaged canned goods heated over a campfire out back. In those early days, this would have been a feast. It’s still pretty good now. Vegetables are more and more scarce.
No one seems to know exactly what happened. He hears a few variations on it; the tale is different each time. Turned by the Others, haunting the Kingsroad where once she had been its protector. Crushed in the fall of a skyscraper in the Eyrie. Slain in battle protecting a school full of orphans from robbers. The details are in debate, but there is a consistent center. The Blue Angel is dead. It's a rumor still, but one with all the authority of the old King’s Landing Times newspaper, of truth. Everyone is sure.
But they don’t know her. Not like Jaime did. If they knew her they would not believe it so easily. They would need evidence. They would need a body, a grave. Otherwise it's just not realistic that she could be gone. He is not worried. He’s not.
Tyrion passes on the same news the next time he’s at the house. No particulars, but the same word from his own channels of information. No one knows how, but the Blue Angel is dead. 
Jaime has little patience for it now. Without any details, it’s still only a rumor. A remarkably consistent one, to be sure. But not enough to know for certain. He doesn’t even stop in the office, claiming exhaustion, avoiding conversation. 
Tyrion finds him anyway. 
“If you really wanted to know, you could ask The Spider.” His brother suggests late one night, startling him awake. “He could give you the whole story.”
Jaime had been dozing in an armchair in his own study, unwilling to go to bed and too tired to stay awake. He rubs at his left eye and yawns. “What time is it? You’re the only person I know who still wears a wristwatch.”
Tyrion looks worried. He stands there a long time waiting for him to answer.
“I don’t want to know,” Jaime mumbles sleepily. “Really I don’t.”
“Try to get some sleep, Jaime.”
In the bathroom mirror he has a few more gray hairs than before, visible even in candlelight. Before long there will be more gray than blond. He pulls them out one at a time. 
It’s too bad he can’t pluck the laugh lines away from his eyes the same way. He hasn’t laughed in a long time now. They feel unearned.
Everywhere he goes for a week solid, it's a funeral. Holly branches along the road, and stray, somehow-preserved flowers. Bars full of black coated mourners, drinking morosely.
It irritates him. Makes him grind his teeth. He shouldn’t resent these people. He knows it’s irrational to feel this way. But what do they know? How dare they mourn? What have they lost? A legend, a leader, a hero? They don’t know the woman behind the stories. She is so much more than that. 
For some reason it is the graffiti that finally gets to him. Seeing it written gives it permanence. Someone felt the need to document this, on a building, for all to see. First in an alley in Riverrun - written in an electric blue that seems to float over the dull brick of the building. “Blue Angel RIP,” it says, and it sears into Jaime’s vision. He sees it every time he closes his eyes. 
Before long the makeshift walls around Raventree are covered in mismatched sprays of blue, the neat and professional swoops of seasoned graffiti artists alongside the amateur efforts of random passers by, all offering their tributes. At the center of them all is a portrait, as detailed as an oil painting rendered in spray paint, of the Blue Angel’s long cloaked form standing over smaller figures in protection. She’s holding her favorite weapon, a solid titanium baseball bat. 
He stares at this portrait for a long time. It’s very good. She must have passed this way at some point. You can’t see her face, but she mostly keeps it covered anyway. This artist captures the way she stands, the gesture of her long, elegant fingers. This artist saw her, at least once, for certain.
It’s so strange. All of these people feel like they know her, that she belongs to them. And it’s true in a way. The Blue Angel belongs to everyone, she really does. But Brienne... Brienne belongs to a very few, if anyone, and if anyone then he is certainly one of them. And he knows she cannot possibly be dead. He knows it.
He stares at the graffiti portrait until his vision blurs and he can’t see anything anymore.
Jaime cuts off the rest of his circuit after that. Drives back to the Rock, as slowly and deliberately as ever, always watching for Others that he could be leading to the compound. In the house he stays only an hour. Packs a small bag and leaves the keys to the car on Tyrion’s desk, along with all his dossiers on the Riverlands, and his appointment book. 
Then he takes out his motorbike and drives it across the Riverlands, wastes precious petrol cruising the old highways dodging the snarls of abandoned cars. Tries to outrun the news. The wind blasts through him like a cold knife. He uses up one of his few remaining chargeables to get an mp3 player playing again, painfully loud, the heaviest music he can find. Hailstorms of guitar riffs assaulting him through the earpiece. He rides until his face is numb from wind and his nerves are rattled and brittle.
The Spider’s lair moves between rest stops these days. King’s Landing is still too dangerous, overrun with Others, and he likes to be off the map. Jaime checks a dozen highway offramps before he comes across the black RVs he is looking for.
He leaves the bike some distance away, as is the custom. The sound of a motorbike will bring Others running from miles away, and it’s impolite to lead zombies to people’s front door. Jaime walks the last mile in darkness, quiet as he can. He should have brought more weapons than a single pistol. He didn’t really think this through. But if the Others came to investigate the bike, he does not encounter them walking south, and before long the pavement opens out into a runaway truck ramp and a parking lot, and he can feel eyes on him from the line of trees beyond.
The Spider’s gang greets him with guns cocking, friendly as always. Black leather gargoyles. When they emerge from the shadows into the moonlight, Jaime puts his hands up and drops down to his knees. He waits for them to decide whether he can approach or if he has to move on and try again another night. He doesn’t hear them talking, but they communicate somehow, silently. He’s determined, over the years, that they use some kind of hand signals, but he’s never caught them doing it. 
The mobile home is painted black, and it’s almost invisible in the night. The Spider doesn’t take visitors in the daytime. The gun at his back pokes him directly up to the door.
On the inside, the trailer is flooded with fluorescent lighting of the kind rarely seen anymore. After years of lanterns and lamps, it looks otherworldly. Dreamlike. The Spider, in his silk robe, seems to gleam in the artificial light, reclining on his cushion-covered couch.
“Slayer,” he says mildly, gestures for Jaime to sit in a chair opposite him. “It’s been some time. What brings you to--”
“If you know anything,” Jaime tells him flatly, staying where he is just inside the door, “you know why I am here.”
Varys looks at him with cool, calculating assessment. His bald head shines thoughtfully.
“I do. But do sit down, you’re upsetting my birds.” In their cages all around the room, crows shudder and caw. Their black eyes stare unblinkingly at the intruder. The bald little man gestures again to a cushioned seat welded into the trailer.
Jaime acquiesces only enough to take a few steps further into the trailer, standing over the Spider’s chaise lounge. Varys shrugs him off, not remotely threatened. He smiles up from his comfortable position as though it’s a deck chair at a beach, and Jaime is there to take his drinks order.
“That is a fine prosthetic you have there. I would never have known, if I didn’t know everything. The color is perfect, just perfect. Which one is it, right or left?"
The Spider doesn’t really expect him to answer. He knows that Jaime has kept a tight lid on that detail, so far. There are certainly people out there in the world who know for certain, and he will surely find out eventually, but the Spider has not gotten any of them to talk just yet. He will fish for the information just the same. It’s a reflex, at this point. 
"Where in the world did you get it? I didn’t think they made things like this anymore, not to custom. But you’re a wealthy man again, aren’t you? Even after Armageddon, Lannisters stay rich.” The spider shows a sliver of teeth. “You would think that money and influence would mean nothing in the new world, but it isn’t so. We simply deal in different currencies now. Your brother realized that faster than most. Clever man.”
Jaime remains standing. 
The Spider’s fingers drum his seat warily. “I, of course, recall how you helped me to escape King’s Landing. Have you come to call in this debt?”
“Is she dead?” He spits out the words like he will not taste their poison if he is rid of them quickly enough.
Varys hesitates. Just for a moment, but it is enough to make Jaime blanch well ahead of his answer.
“Yes. Without a doubt.”
Jaime’s throat tightens around the word. “How?”
“How else? The Others.”
Jaime takes one more breath, and chokes on it. He can’t get any more words out. 
He turns and slaps his palms against the door of the trailer so that it bangs open and he is out into the freezing night again, running, past the blurry borders of the rest-stop and into proper forest, and when he cannot run anymore he drops to his hands and knees in the mud and opens his mouth and wails until he has no voice left. 
His fists beat into the earth as though he can make it give her back.
When there’s nothing left inside him he gets up. Stumbles unseeing back through the forest. Raw and shaking, he pushes through Varys’ honor guard of former bikers, back into the Spider’s Lair.
Varys has not moved since he left him. He watches Jaime drop down into the chair opposite him as though it were only moments since he gave his terrible answer. 
“Would you like to ask for your boon now?” the Spider asks. 
“Yes.” Jaime leans forward. “I need weapons.”
***
Let me hold you in my arms dear
And let me melt in the heat of your gaze
And let the clock strike one,
Time and mind go marching on
Let our sense of selves decay
It was there that I saw you
In the heat of a summer's embrace
But as time went on
I wondered what went wrong
I wondered what became of you
“It Was There That I Saw You”, ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
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pickalilywrites · 3 years
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Can you please write a gabi x falco fic where gabi is slightly taller than falco (2-3 inches)? And she just finds various ways to tease him for this making him embarrassed. Maybe also have her carry him bridal style in the fic somewhere. I think it would be really cute, funny and wholesome! Thanks for considering my request! And aot shall be missed the end of an era.
Have a great day and God bless! All the best and take care! Happy writing! :))
thank you for asking for this ^^ it was fun to write. it took me a little while but i hope you enjoy it~
-----------------
Taller Than You
Falbi. Canonverse.
8098 words.
Read on Ao3!
Falco can accept being beaten. He’s never been the strongest person or the fastest or the smartest. In all honesty, he’s quite average and while it’s frustrating to never place first or even within the top three of his class, he’s come to accept that some things are beyond his control. Yes, he can work hard and hope to someday surpass his peers and graduate at the top of his class, but he has to work twice as hard because he lacks the natural talent that others were lucky enough to be born with. It’s frustrating sometimes, but that’s just the way it is and Falco is fine with it for the most part.
It’s admittedly a little less easy for Falco to accept his inadequacy as a warrior candidate when Gabi flaunts all of her accomplishments in front of him. She’s accumulated so many badges over the years, little medals made out of cheap metal that were already rusting when they were given to her that she still proudly pins to the front of her shirts, that Falco has lost count of just how many she has.
Really, Falco knows it’s his own fault that his list of accomplishments pales in comparison to Gabi. He’s not as strong and hardworking as she is. If he’s average compared to his other classmates, then he’s completely inferior next to Gabi. He never says anything when Gabi brags about how she’s beaten the record for shooting practice, the previous record which had also belonged to her as well, or when she manages to receive a compliment from one of the most hard-to-impress instructors during a military drill course. He just bites his lip and suffers through Gabi shoving all of her accomplishments in his face. It’s what he deserves for being such a pathetic warrior-in-training.
Gabi really deserves to let her accomplishments be known anyway, Falco knows, and he does like to listen to her list every single one of her achievements. He likes the way her eyes light up when she talks about whatever record she broke, how her chest puffs up, and how she bristles with pride. It’s only right that Gabi be so proud of herself. She’s a Warrior through and through, a person destined to wield a Titan, and undeniably the worthiest candidate in their class.
It should, then, only be inevitable that Gabi surpasses Falco in the only thing that he thought he could beat her at: height. There had been warning signs. For years, Falco and Gabi had been around the same height with Falco always a centimeter or two taller than Gabi, but lately it seems like Gabi has caught up.
The last few months, Gabi was always the exact same height as Falco. Falco would always hold his breath during his physical exam. Whenever his height was taken, he’d stand to his full height, raising his head unconsciously as if that would somehow give him an extra centimeter or two only to have the nurse taking his height to smack him on the head and tell him to stand properly. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Gabi had finally surpassed his height by a centimeter. After all, she had already managed to beat him at everything else, but Falco couldn’t stand for it.
“You can’t be taller than me,” Falco says, hating how high-pitched and whiny his voice sounds. He bites his lip and turns to the nurse that had just finished measuring Gabi and his eyes flit back to his friend. “It’s impossible.”
“Denial is the first step to acceptance,” Gabi says as she cheerfully pats Falco on the shoulder. She’s elated, not even trying to hide the smug grin on her face. “Although, you should just accept it. I’ve beaten you at nearly everything else, so shouldn’t this be easy to accept?”
It should be, but it’s not. Over the past months, Falco had dreaded the idea of Gabi growing taller than him. He refused to believe it could ever happen. He could never beat her at anything except her height, and he clung to that worthless achievement fiercely even as it became apparent that Gabi was hitting her growth spurt much faster than him. Falco finds the reality of Gabi being taller than him is actually much worse than just imagining it. It’s humiliating to be beaten at something he thought he had, but he realizes too late that Gabi’s height is beyond his control and he can only stand there in disbelief as she stands there, chin lifted proudly as she subtly flaunts her extra centimeter in front of him.
“Measure me again, please,” Falco practically begs as he tugs on the nurse’s sleeve.
The nurse eyes him tiredly and shakes his head. “Can’t you see I have to do the rest of your classmates?” he asks, gesturing to the line of kids who are still waiting to be measured. “It’s a centimeter difference. You’ll outgrow her in no time.”
That’s not soon enough, Falco wants to say, but he doesn’t want to sound like a brat so he bites his lip from saying any more. When he turns around, Gabi is giggling behind him with her smug expression still pasted on her face. If she smiles any wider, her face might crack.
He tries to keep his head held high even though all he wants to do right now is throw a fit over something as pathetic as a centimeter height difference.
“You heard him,” Falco says. His voice is still that strange high pitch that makes him cringe inwardly. He should probably shut up now before he makes himself look more like a fool, but he can’t help it. If he doesn’t say something now, it’ll be like admitting defeat. “I’ll grow taller than you soon. Just wait.”
The smirk on her face is infuriating. “Sure,” Gabi says, but it’s clear from the tone of her voice that she doesn’t believe him. “We’ll see.”
But much to Falco’s horror, he doesn’t grow taller than Gabi. His height seems to stagnate despite the fact that he’s eating more than usual. He doesn’t get any heavier either, which just makes it twice as frustrating. It’s as if the food he eats just disappears once it enters his mouth. What’s the point of eating, Falco wonders, if it doesn’t help him grow at all?
Gabi doesn’t seem to have that problem at all. She continues to grow. It’s effortless like everything else she does. First, it’s that one centimeter height difference. Then it’s a few millimeters more, the added height so small that it would be negligible if it were anyone else aside from Gabi. Suddenly, it’s a whole centimeter and a half, then two centimeters, and finally two and a half.
“How are you growing so much!” Falco asks, looking at Gabi in disbelief. He can’t understand how she continues to grow while his own height remains stunted. His parents had assured him that his growth spurt would come soon, but he’s almost certain they’re lying to him because the difference between him and Gabi keeps growing. “This is impossible.”
To the nurse who’s busy taking measurements, Falco says, “Measure me again.”
The nurse doesn’t even look at Falco when he responds. “I’m busy,” he replies. He’s given Falco that response consistently for the past six months. It makes Falco want to tear his hair out. “I don’t see why you’re worried about it all the time anyway. You’ll grow soon enough.”
Falco is about to open his mouth and argue with the nurse when Zofia and Udo drag him away.
“Hey, don’t worry about it, Falco,” Zofia chides as she rubs Falco’s shoulder reassuringly. She sits him down at his desk where she begins to pat his head like one would do if they were comforting an upset child. “Girls usually get their growth spurt before guys anyway, so it’s only normal that Gabi’s taller than you right now. I’m getting pretty tall too. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m even taller than Udo.”
“Please don’t rub it in my face,” Udo says with a pained expression. He pulls out a chair and sits across from Falco, giving his friend a sympathetic smile. “She’s right, though, and so is the nurse. You start growing a lot soon. Me, too.”
“I want to grow taller now, “ Falco grumbles. He buries his head in his arms and sighs. Voice muffled, he asks, “What do I have to do to grow a couple centimeters taller?”
“Well, you could do some stretches,” Zofia suggests. She jumps back in surprise when Falco sits up and leans toward her.
“What stretches?” he asks. He scoots up to the edge of his seat, attentive.
“Oh, they’re just … they’re supposed to make you taller. I’ve only been doing them for a few months, but I’ve grown quite a bit in that time,” Zofia explains awkwardly. She looks around as if unsure if it would be appropriate to demonstrate in the classroom. Nobody is paying attention to them though. The rest of their classmates are either busy talking to each other or getting their height and weight measured and their instructor has left the nurse in charge of the class.
Udo purses his lips. “Why haven’t you taught me about these stretches?” he asks with a frown.
“You never asked,” Zofia replies, and Udo scowls at her.
“Well, what are they?” Falco asks a little impatiently. He stands up, ready to follow along with and memorize whatever instruction Zofia gives him.
“One of them goes like this,” Zofia begins and starts to demonstrate.
They’re easy stretches. Many of them are exactly like the ones that they do before they warm up for their physical training: stretching their arms above their head, twisting their torso back and forth, touching their toes, etc. Some are a little more unfamiliar to Falco: stretching your calves as you push against a wall, stretching your forearms and wrists, and hanging against a doorframe or a wall to stretch your shoulder and back muscles.
The key, Zofia explains while the boys do it half-heartedly, is to stretch enough to feel it in their muscles. If they don’t, then they’re doing it wrong. They also need to make sure to hold the stretches for an appropriate amount of time. It’s fine if they do it a little bit longer, Zofia tells them, but they absolutely need to make sure they hold each position for the minimum amount of time.
“And then you’ll grow taller in no time!” Zofia assures them cheerfully.
It’s working. At least Falco thinks it is, although he probably shouldn’t be so optimistic. It’s only been a few seconds after all, but he’s pretty sure he can feel his limbs lengthening as he stretches out his muscles. He’s stretching his arms when a question pops into his head that he hadn’t thought to ask before.
“Where did you learn about this anyway?” he asks Zofia.
It’s suspicious when Zofia doesn’t answer him right away. She avoids his eyes for a moment, looking up at the ceiling while she decides if she should respond. He gets a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach as Zofia rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet and she nibbles on her bottom lip. It makes him want to take back his question immediately, tell Zofia that he doesn’t care about who taught these stretching exercises to her anymore, but it’s too late. Zofia is already opening her mouth to answer.
“Gabi,” Zofia answers quietly, but her reply seems to fill the whole room.
Behind them, a horrible cackle begins and Falco turns around, horrified, and sees that Gabi has appeared as if the mere mention of her name had been enough to summon her out of thin air.
“Doing stretches?” Gabi asks with the smuggest smile on her lips. It makes Falco want to scream. She does a few stretches too, stretching her arms above her head, but she does it lazily. It’s almost like she’s mocking Falco. “That’s a good idea, Falco. Maybe you’ll be able to catch up to me someday.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” Falco snaps, but Gabi just laughs and he can feel blush bloom across his cheeks. He scowls at her and says, “Those stretches probably don’t work. I don’t need them to grow taller than you anyhow.”
He means it, he really does. He isn’t planning on doing any of the stretches. Even if he does grow taller than Gabi, he knows she’ll comment on how well her stretches worked with that same smug smile on her face. Still, he finds himself absentmindedly doing them when he gets home, figuring that it can’t hurt to try.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Gabi always finds new ways to annoy Falco with her height. It seems she’s not satisfied with bringing it up during every physical evaluation. She has to rub her few extra centimeters of height in his face every chance she gets even if it’s in the most mundane of situations.
Sometimes the way she flaunts her height is horribly blatant. It’s in the snide comments she throws casually at him, asking him what the weather is like down there or apologizing for not hearing what he just said because it’s so hard to hear him from her height. It’s not even as if he’s that much shorter than her. There are plenty of other people in their class that are a lot shorter than Gabi, but she only ever directs her height-related comments towards him.
“Are you done?” Falco asks as Gabi pretends to check their heights again.
She’s standing right next to him, her chin lifted slightly as she compares heights with him. Her hand goes from the top of her head and shifts over just a few centimeters over Falco. He swears she’s exaggerating their height difference because her hand is angled when she moves her hand above his head, giving her a few imaginary centimeters over him.
“Just checking,” Gabi says cheerfully to him. She gives him a grin and leans toward him. He knows whatever it is she has to say next will make him want to stick his head out the door and scream at the top of his lungs. “Falco, do you want to know if you’ve grown any taller?”
“No,” Falco says almost immediately.
Gabi ignores him. “Well, you haven’t,” she says happily. She walks in circles around him, practically skipping. In a sing-song voice, she continues, “I’m still taller than you, much taller than you. You’ll never catch up now.”
Falco grits his teeth and balls his hands into fists.
Gabi is still talking. “It’s okay, though. I’m tall enough for the both of us.” She’s wandering towards the cabinets now. Falco is all too familiar with what’s about to happen next. He knows all of Gabi’s methods to incite his short-man syndrome. She throws open the cabinet doors and looks back at Falco with a dazzling grin. “I can help you with so many things. Do you want anything from the cabinet? I can reach it for you.”
“No,” Falco says, but he knows Gabi isn’t listening to him.
She’s humming as she scans the contents of the cabinet. It’s full of different school supplies, most of them already used before because they’re second-hand from the Marleyan schools. Her mouth shapes itself into a perfect O-shape as she sees something that catches her eye. Falco is about to roll his eyes until he sees what Gabi is reaching for.
Normally, Gabi reaches for things that are just within reach. Sometimes she even gets things from shelves that Falco can easily reach himself. Not this time. This time, she’s reaching for the shelf near the top where the worn-out textbooks are. It’s not something she can reach without standing on her tiptoes and really stretching really far.
With just a glance at this situation — Gabi and her bull-headed stubbornness, the cabinet with its rickety shelves, and the textbooks that are so worn-out that they could disintegrate with a touch — Falco knows that it’s a recipe for disaster. If there were even a chance of stopping Gabi, Falco would step in and try to convince her to stop, but he knows any effort to do so would be futile. He should walk away and let her reap the consequences herself, but he doesn’t. Against his better judgement, he remains and begins to hover behind Gabi.
“Gabi, you really don’t have to,” he says worriedly. His hands flutter pathetically behind Gabi, reaching out to catch her in case she falls.
“Don’t worry. At my height, this isn’t anything difficult,” Gabi says with a toss of her head even though she’s having difficulty. The shelf is so tall that she can’t really see what she’s doing. She has to grasp blindly for a textbook and her smile grows wider when she finally manages to grab hold of one. “Got it!”
As soon as she pulls it from out of its shelf, she stumbles back and loses her balance. Rather than allowing Falco to catch her, Gabi flails about trying to grab onto something, anything, to keep herself from falling. Her hand grasps onto one of the shelves and for a moment Falco thinks everything will be fine. Gabi is suspended there, hanging onto the shelf with one hand while an old, musty textbook is dangling in the other. A beat passes and then two and then a horrible crack is heard.
It happens in slow motion. Gabi’s weight is too much for the shelf and it slips out of the cabinet, coming away with her hand as she falls onto Falco and nearly crushes him. The already unstable cabinet begins to crumble. The top shelf goes first, falling away, and the textbooks that it held drop onto the other shelves which all collapse in turn. The entire cabinet falls apart, its contents spilling on the floor, and Falco winces when he hears Instructor Andreas bellow their names.
“Braun! Grice! What the hell did you two do?” The instructor’s shout can be heard clearly in the tiny schoolhouse and every student immediately freezes at the sound of his voice. It’s never a good thing when an instructor raises their voice, especially Instructor Andreas.
“J-just … getting some textbooks, s-sir,” Falco stammers. Gabi is still on top of him, her weight crushing his lungs, and he shoves her off, jabbing her in the ribs to signal her to apologize before they get into even more trouble.
Gabi grunts and sits up in a more respectable position. She brushes off some dust from her school uniform and at least has the sense to look apologetic as she looks at their teacher. “Sorry, sir,” Gabi mumbles and Falco repeats a clumsy apology beside her. “I should have been more careful.”
“You stupid Eldians can’t help destroying every damn thing you touch, can you?” Instructor Andreas snaps. He spits on the floor in disgust. It’s enough to make everyone nearby flinch. He looks up at the two troublemakers with a scathing glare and jerks his head towards the open door. “Go out there and finish a full circuit. Don’t come back until you do.”
Falco’s shoulders begin to slump. A full circuit is nearly an hour of drills that is sure to leave him sore when he wakes up tomorrow morning. He wants to complain, but he knows one word will just result in a heavier punishment. He should just do it and get it over with now.
He’s about to get up and offer Gabi a hand, but he sees she’s already standing and offering him a hand up. Falco hesitates, but he takes it and lets Gabi pull him up. He knows she’s going to say something about it once they leave the schoolhouse and get out of earshot of Instructor Andreas, but right now he just wants to get out of here as soon as possible even if it means he’ll have to put up with more of Gabi’s short jokes later.
As soon as they step out of the wooden cabin and onto the schoolyard it begins.
“No need to thank me for helping you up,” Gabi whispers to him. She’s so close to him that he can feel her breath hot against his ear. “It’s probably difficult for you to stand up on your own with those short legs of yours.”
Falco scowls at her and gets started on the full circuit before Instructor Andreas can stick his head out of the schoolhouse and yell at them for fooling around.
It’s an hour of grueling physical exertion. The first time he had ever done the circuit, he was ten years old and a new recruit for the Warrior-trainee program. He thought he would die five minutes in. The first part was running around the field, which would normally be bearable except for the fact that the schoolyard is filled with little bumps and holes everywhere. Although he’s learned the best footing when running around the field, his calves still burn as soon as he makes it a half a kilometer. He’s hardly improved from the first time he had run through the circuit.
Gabi catches up to him quite easily even though he’s had a head start. Unlike Falco, she doesn’t break a sweat. She’s practically smiling as she passes by him. It doesn’t surprise Falco. What most people find difficult, Gabi can do easily as if it were as simple as taking a breath.
By the time Falco’s finished running around the field twice, Gabi is already starting on the drills that accompany the circuit: push-ups, curl-ups, pull-ups, any exercise that will ensure that they won’t be able to move a single muscle tomorrow morning. She’s a little red in the face now, her hair falling out of its usual bun and sticking to the sweat on her forehead, but she’s not as out-of-breath as Falco. Somehow, she’s still smiling.
“I hope you know,” Falco huffs as he nearly collapses doing his first push-up., “that this is all your fault.”
“Nonsense,” Gabi says easily. He’s not sure how she’s able to form words so easily. She doesn’t seem winded at all. “I had everything out of control.”
“You broke the cabinet!”
“I got the textbook,” she replies contentedly as if this is all that matters. “Something you could never do on your own due to your lack of height.” She gets out of her push-up position and sits down on her haunches so that she’s looking down on Falco. With an impish grin, she reaches out to give Falco a condescending pat on the head. It’s just a light touch, but it’s enough to send Falco face-first into the ground.
Falco raises his head and splutters, spitting out the dirt that had gotten in his mouth. “I didn’t even need that textbook!” he coughs.
He regrets shouting as soon as the words leave his mouth. His raised voice attracts the attention of Instructor Andreas, who pokes his head out the door and sees Falco collapsed on the ground and Gabi taunting him.
“Braun! Grice!” the instructor growls. His harsh tone makes Falco flinch, but Gabi simply turns her head. “I thought I told you two to complete a full circuit, not play around.”
The two give him a weak apology that the man only scowls at.
“Don’t apologize to me. Save your energy,” the man snarls. He pounds the doorframe twice and then points at the field that Gabi and Falco had just finished running around. “Start over. Do the circuit properly or else I’ll make sure you’ll be running laps around the field until nightfall.”
Immediately, the two get up and jog towards the field. Falco’s pretty sure he’s going to pass out halfway, but there’s no point in complaining about it.
“Sorry,” he mumbles to Gabi as they make their way to the field.
She glances at him, unbothered. “No worries,” Gabi says. She’s being uncharacteristically understanding, even jogging at the same pace as him. The two jog together in tandem for a few beats and Gabi speaks again. “Since you’re so short, it makes sense that you’d be short-tempered, too.”
Falco growls and speeds ahead, but he can still hear Gabi cackling behind him.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Falco sits at the dining table shoveling as much food in his mouth as humanly possible. He’s not even taking time to savor the food. If he did, he’d probably notice that stuffing bread and mashed potatoes and carrots and chicken in his mouth all at once is a disgusting mishmash of flavors.
“Falco,” his mother says exasperatedly as he shoves an entire boiled egg into his mouth. “Can you at least chew your food?”
“No,” Falco garbles through the food in his mouth. A few crumbs fly from his mouth and onto the table. Falco doesn’t hesitate to wipe it away hastily with a napkin and wastes no time in shoveling yet another spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth.
His mother only sighs. She gave up hope on managing her son’s eating habits long ago.
Doing stretches doesn’t seem to be working for Falco, so he has started a new strategy to grow taller: eating his family out of house and home. At first he thought it would be fine if he just took in as much dairy as possible. He’s heard it said that calcium is what makes a person grow, but he became impatient when he didn’t see results the next day and just decided to eat everything he could shove in his mouth. Has it made his eating experience much less enjoyable? Absolutely, but it’ll be worth it if he can grow a couple of more inches and finally overtake Gabi in height.
“What’s happening here?” a familiar voice says. Falco lifts his head to see his older brother Colt walk over with a puzzled look on his face.
It’s been a while since Falco has actually seen his brother at home. After being chosen as the successor of the Beast Titan, Colt had been put on a more intensive training regimen that often started early in the morning before the Grice family was even awake and ended late into the night when everyone had long gone to bed. The only time Falco ever really sees his brother is on the training field with other soldiers when their training schedules coincidentally align. Falco thinks it’s the first time he’s seen Colt at home during the day since he was named Commander Zeke’s successor.
“He’s eating everything in the house,” their mother grumbles because Falco’s mouth is full of food and can’t speak right now. “The rest of us will starve at this rate.”
“That’s fine. Training really makes you hungry,” Colt hums. He shrugs his bag off his shoulder and lets it fall to the floor with a thud. He grabs an empty plate and cutlery from the cabinet and joins his family at the table. Colt is about to help himself to some dinner but he takes a glance at Falco’s plate, which is filled with a mountain of food. He raises an eyebrow. “I know you’re at that age where you eat a ton but isn’t this … a bit much?”
Falco swallows the food in his mouth and it slides slowly down his throat. He’s afraid it gets stuck halfway and begins to cough. He pounds at his chest with one hand and reaches for his glass of water on the table with the other, nearly knocking it over because he isn’t looking. Falco nearly has to down the entire glass before the lump of food is able to slide down his throat.
“Please chew,” his mother practically begs.
Falco ignores her. “I have to … eat more,” he pants. He’s beginning to taste the food on his tongue now, and it tastes terrible. It’s too sweet and too salty and there’s a weird film on his tongue. He gulps down more water before shoveling more food in his mouth.
Colt raises his eyebrows again. Since he hasn’t been able to speak to his family for a while, he’s missed out on quite a lot, including Falco’s current problem with Gabi and his height. His mother is kind enough to fill Colt in.
“He’s convinced that eating more will help him grow taller,” their mother tells Colt. She sits with her back against her chair and her arms crossed against her chest. Her eyes never leave Falco as she speaks. “There’s a girl that’s taller than him.”
Colt watches Falco, his head tilted to the side. “Isn’t it normal for the boys to be shorter than the girls at this age?” he asks. He thinks for a moment as he tries to recall what it was to be Falco’s age only a few years ago. “I think I was shorter than most of the girls in my class when I was your age, too.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” Mrs. Grice says. She gives Falco a withering look, but her son is too busy eating to notice. “He’ll catch up to them in no time at all. Eating everything in sight won’t necessarily make you grow any taller, Falco. Just eat normally and you’ll get your growth spurt before you know it.”
Colt continues to observe his little brother. He rests his elbow on the table and his cheek in his hand. “Are you really upset that the girls are taller? I’m sure the other guys in your class have already accepted it.” His fingers tap against the table as he thinks. After a moment, he stops and sits up with a suspicious expression. “Unless you’re upset because it’s not because it’s the girls but because of one girl in particular.”
Falco stops eating to glare at Colt. He means for his glare to look menacing, but he probably just looks ridiculous with his cheeks full of food like an overstuffed chipmunk.
The corners of Colt’s mouth quirk upward in a grin. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Colt says. He looks far too amused by this. “Is it … Gabi? It’s Gabi, isn’t it?”
“No,” Falco says with a mouthful of food. He manages not to spit out of any of it, but he kind of wishes he spit his food into his brother’s face. Colt looks as if he’s about to laugh about this whole thing, which only infuriates Falco more. How is any of this funny?
“How much taller than you is she?” Colt asks. He leans over the table with that same smile on his face, the one that says he finds all of this hilarious. “1 cm? 2 cm? 3?”
“She’s not,” Falco lies, but his voice comes out in a whine and he knows his face is scrunching up in a childish way. He wishes Colt hadn’t come home. “She’s not taller than me!”
“Okay, okay,” Colt chides. He starts to pile food onto his own plate and gestures for his mom to eat as well, probably deciding that it’ll be useless to talk to Falco about this topic any further.
The three eat together in relative peace — Falco still trying to eat everything in front of him without swallowing, his mother eating and occasionally rolling her eyes whenever she catches a glimpse of her younger son, and Colt eating normally as if this is a normal family meal. After a moment, Colt takes a brussel sprout from his plate and onto Falco’s. Falco doesn’t think much of it at first but then Colt drops another one onto Falco’s plate, then another one, and then another one.
Falco stops eating for a moment and looks at his brother. “What are you doing?” he asks after swallowing.
Colt stops what he’s doing and looks at his younger brother in surprise. “Me?” he asks as if he wasn’t sure Falco had been speaking to him. “I’m helping you, of course. Helping you grow taller.” He gestures at the brussel sprouts with his fork and then at Falco.
Falco wrinkles his nose. “With brussel sprouts?” It’s one of the few foods he’s been trying to avoid. While his plan is to eat everything, he does have his limits and brussel sprouts are one of them. He can’t stand them. They look like tiny little cabbages, but taste so much worse, their bitter taste lingering on Falco’s tongue long after he’s swallowed. He tries not to eat them as much as he can.
“Yeah,” Colt says. He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know? They’re chock-full of all sorts of nutrients: calcium, vitamin D, magnesium, and the like. It’s supposed to help with bone growth. Helps you grow taller. Didn’t they tell you that in school?”
Across the table, Colt’s mother mouths, “Really?” Falco doesn’t notice when Colt answers with a subtle shake of the head.
Falco looks sullenly at the little pile of brussel sprouts sitting in his pile of mashed potatoes. He pushes them around idly with his fork. “They didn’t mention it in my class,” he mumbles.
Colt shrugs. “You guys probably haven’t gotten into the diet and health unit yet. They really emphasize it in the Warrior Trainee program, especially once you get chosen as a Warrior.”
Falco looks suspiciously at his brother and then at the brussel sprouts on his plate. “Really?” he asks.
“Really,” Colt says. He seems sincere, and Falco doesn’t know why his older brother would lie to him. It’s true that Colt would know what foods to eat now that he’s a Warrior. He would know what foods are good for growth and keeping up someone’s strength.
Reluctantly, Falco spears a brussel sprout with his fork and nibbles at it. He shudders when the weird metallic taste hits his tongue. With a grimace, he puts the whole thing in his mouth, gives it a few good chews, and then swallows it down. It feels like slime moving down his throat. He has to finish the rest of his water just to rinse the taste out of his mouth.
“That’s disgusting,” he shudders, but he spears two more brussel sprouts onto his fork and eats them. It’s just as bad this time as it was before. He’s not sure how he’s going to finish the rest of these brussel sprouts without puking. He screws up his face as he takes another bite of the foul vegetable. “‘This is the worst!”
“Eat up, brother,” Colt hums, loading Falco’s plate with even more servings of the offensive food.
Their mother waves her hand to get Colt’s attention and gestures at the salted anchovies. “These, too,” she says. “Colt, make sure your brother eats these. Weren’t you telling me the other day that they were a good source of calcium?”
“Anchovies?” Colt says with a furrowed brow. Then, as if he’s just remembering, he nods and makes a noise in understanding. He begins to shovel the fish onto Falco’s plate right next to the brussel sprouts. “Ah, right. They mentioned it was a superfood, something that helps you grow taller overnight.”
“Really?” Falco wants to cry. He hates anchovies even more than brussel sprouts. They’re always too salty and too fishy, the taste overwhelming both his nose and his taste buds. He thinks he really is going to puke. He nearly cries as he lifts a spoonful of the little fish into his mouth and his entire body shudders when the salty taste hits his tongue. He’s practically sobbing as he goes for another spoonful.
After a few more horrible swallows of brussel sprouts and anchovies, Falco notices his mother and brother snickering behind their palms. His eating slows and he puts his spoon down.
“These … really aren’t superfoods, are they?” he asks flatly. He already knows the answer even before Colt nods his head. If Falco’s stomach didn’t feel as if it were about to burst right now, he would be flipping the table over in frustration. Instead, he just lets out an exasperated shriek and storms upstairs to his room.
“Where are you going, Falco?” Colt asks after him.
“You haven’t finished eating yet!” his mother calls.
Falco slams his bedroom door behind him in response.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Falco should have figured that Gabi would soon grow tired of teasing him and that she would naturally progress to the next best thing: completely humiliating him in front of as many people as possible.
She still stands only a few centimeters taller than him, but the brunette acts as if she towers above him like a giant. Whenever they’re standing beside each other, Gabi looks down at him, lifting her head and standing as straight as she can without standing on her tiptoes. She stares her nose at him, that smug grin on her face each time. Falco always rolls his eyes and does his best to ignore him, but he finds it more and more grating each time.
Gabi constantly uses him as an armrest, letting her elbow settle on his shoulder or, if he happens to be sitting down, on the top of his head. More than once, he’s scowled at her before waving her away, but it only seems to amuse her even more because she always laughs whenever he does. Normally, it wouldn’t bother him. The additional weight of Gabi’s elbow isn’t much, but it’s the meaning behind the leaning that bothers him so much. It’s only slightly better to just allow her to use him as a piece of furniture, but not by much. He tries his best not to grumble about it each time because it only makes her grin grow wider.
What’s the absolute worst, though, is when Gabi pats him on the head. She does it so condescendingly with the sweetest smile on her face. Her touch is light, affectionate, and utterly humiliating. He’s waved her away once or twice, but she always finds a reason to put her hand on top of his head: because he has something in his hair, because his hair’s a mess, because his hair is so soft. It doesn’t matter how well-meaning her reason seems. Falco knows her real motive: to remind him of just how short he is by infantilizing him in whatever way she can.
“Oh, Falco,” Gabi says in a sing-song voice. She’s already looking at the top of his head, her hand reaching out to touch his hair. Her fingertips brush against his golden blond locks. “You have something in your hair-”
“No, I don’t!” Falco says, whacking her hand away. He regrets it immediately because now Gabi is standing over him, her hands behind her back and her lips curled in an amused grin.
“How would you know that?” Gabi says. She steps closer to him, hand still clasped behind her. “You can’t see the top of your head, can you? But I can easily because I’m-”
Falco doesn’t let her finish. He’s already heard it too many times before. “Whatever is in my hair, I’d rather it just … be there,” he says firmly.
Gabi stops smiling for a second and then blinks once. Twice. Her mouth spreads into a wide grin once again. “Aren’t you funny?” she coos. She reaches out to pinch Falco’s cheek. It doesn’t hurt, but Falco can feel his cheeks turning red just from her touch. “You don’t care if your hair’s a mess? Or is it really because … you hate how small this makes you feel?” Her hand finds its way to the top of Falco’s head, patting Falco like he’s a dog.
“So, you admit you’re doing this to humiliate me?” Falco asks. It comes out less indignant and more embarrassed, Falco’s cheeks still flushed in humiliation.
“Oh, please,” Gabi smiles. “I can do much worse.”
Falco should have run. He should have turned on his heel and taken off as far as his feet would take him. He knows that look on Gabi’s face, that knowing smirk and that mischievous glimmer in her eye, and he knows that whatever is to come next is absolutely no good. For whatever reason, he stays rooted to the spot even as his eyes widen in horror as Gabi reaches for him, her arms enveloping him right before she sweeps him right off his feet.
“What are you doing?” Falco yelps. He’s jostled around in Gabi’s arms, his chin bumping against her shoulder and then her head as she tries to find a comfortable place to hold him. Somehow, his arms find a way around Gabi’s neck as he hangs on for dear life. “W-what are you doing?”
“You must be so grumpy being so close to the ground all day,” Gabi says breezily. She’s carrying him like a bride and swinging him around like he weighs nothing. “The air is probably stuffy down there. Isn’t it nice being up this high?”
Falco is about to retort that the height she’s carrying him at right now is much shorter than his actual height, but he doesn’t get to because Gabi begins to spin around. He has to hang onto her for dear life because he’s afraid she might drop him. By the time Gabi’s stopped, his head is still spinning and he thinks he can see stars even though the sun is still out.
She lets him down gently, but Falco is still swaying as he stands. He holds his hand to his head as he begins to get his bearings. With a wince, he glances over at Gabi.
“Are you happy now?” he grumbles.
Gabi smiles at him. She rests her elbow on his shoulder and the corners of her eyes crinkle as her grin grows wider. “Very,” she replies.
»»————- ★ ————-««
He can’t believe it. Falco really can’t believe it. He’s finally growing taller, but it’s still not enough to beat Gabi. It’s just enough to decrease the gap between them. It’s a one centimeter difference. One measly centimeter, but somehow it bothers Falco more than when Gabi had been two centimeters taller than him.
“Can you just …?” Falco says, stepping nervously behind the nurse who’s already getting ready to measure the next person in line. He glances away when the nurse glares at him, but tugs on the man’s sleeve anyway. “I mean … it’ll only take a second. Are you sure I’m not, like, maybe a centimeter taller than you measured? You were measuring me pretty quickly …”
“Kid,” the nurse says, turning to Falco with a sigh. The person waiting in line looks mildly annoyed at the holdup. “How many times do we have to go through this? You know the rules. I measure you once, and you go.”
“Yeah, but-”
The nurse shakes his head and waves his ruler, gesturing for Falco to leave. “I have work to do.” The man sees Falco’s downcast expression and sighs. “If you’re really bothered just … get shoes with taller soles or something. That’ll do until you finally hit your growth spurt.”
Falco walks away, his shoes dragging against the hardwood floor. “As if I have the money to get new shoes,” he mutters. He stops when he sees someone in front of him. He probably shouldn’t be surprised that it’s Gabi standing in front of him looking as smug as ever.
“Hi, Falco,” she chirps.
“It’s one centimeter,” he tells her. He’s glowering, but Gabi doesn’t even flinch.
“It sure is,” Gabi grins.
“It’s one centimeter!” he says. He doesn’t know why he’s following her as she’s happily skipping away from him, probably to inform all their friends and classmates that she’s still taller than him. He just wants it to be clear: it’s only a one centimeter difference. “It’s not that much taller than me!”
He hates the way she stops and spins around, the way she stands so self-satisfied, the way she smiles at him with her shit-eating grin.
“It’s still one centimeter taller than you,” Gabi says.
Falco hates that the most.
»»————- ★ ————-««
When it finally happens, Falco’s not as happy as he thought he would be. In fact, he’s not happy at all. Instead of celebrating the fact that he’s now half a centimeter taller than Gabi, he’s hovering nervously behind the nurse once more.
“Just one more time please!” he begs, tugging on the back of the man’s shirt. He doesn’t even flinch when the nurse swats him away like a mildly annoying gnat. “Are you sure I’m not even a little bit taller? Maybe like … a half-centimeter taller or even a whole centimeter taller than what you just said?”
“You’re as tall as I say you are the first time and not any taller,” the nurse replies. He turns his head to glare at Falco and wags the ruler in front of the boy’s face. “Stop begging me for remeasurements. I’ll start shaving off a centimeter from your height every time you ask.”
“Sorry!” he squeaks before scurrying off to sulk behind Udo.
Udo watches Falco amusedly as the blond shuffles around and mumbles unintelligibly under his breath. “I don’t see why you’re so bothered,” he tells Falco. “You’re finally taller than Gabi, so what’s the big deal?”
“It’s not enough,” Falco sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his golden locks irritatedly. “I’m finally taller than her, and she isn’t bothered at all! Just look at her!” He points a finger where Gabi is happily conversing with Zofia. Either she hasn’t heard the news or she doesn’t care. Considering the fact that she hardly even flinched when Falco crowed his new height measurement at the top of his lungs to the class, it’s most definitely the latter. Falco just doesn’t know why.
“... Maybe she just doesn’t know?” Udo guesses with a weak shrug of his shoulders.
Falco shakes his head. “No, she definitely knows.” He’s not so sure anymore. “R-right?”
Again, Udo shrugs.
If Gabi doesn’t know, then Falco needs to make sure she does. Maybe she hadn’t heard him the first time. Maybe she was too busy talking to Zofia to pay attention, Falco thinks as he marches over to where Zofia and Gabi are. Udo follows for moral support, but he sighs as he does because he knows Falco will never be satisfied with the outcome.
Only Zofia turns around when he reaches them. Gabi continues to speak to Zofia, not noticing that her other friends have joined them. It’s only when Falco clears his throat that Gabi stops speaking and looks over at him, eyebrows raised just the slightest bit like she’s feigning surprise.
“Oh, Falco,” she says, smiling delightedly. “Have you been there long?”
“I’m taller than you now,” Falco says, not even bothering to answer her question. He puffs out his chest as he says this, straightening his back to assert his newly achieved half-centimeter height difference over her. “I’m half a centimeter taller than you, in case you haven’t heard.”
To his surprise, Gabi’s smile doesn’t falter. On the contrary, it grows even wider, much to Falco’s horror. “So I’ve heard,” Gabi says. “Congrats, Falco. Good job on surpassing my height by half a centimeter. I’m really happy for you.”
“You … you are?” Falco deflates. His shoulders are slumped in disappointment. If Gabi were to stand up next to him right now, their height difference would be negligible. He had expected her to be infuriated that he had finally beaten her at something. It’s surprising that she hardly cares at all.
“Of course,” Gabi says with a shrug. She stands up, but she doesn’t straighten her back or even try to stand on her tiptoes. She just stands there, half a centimeter shorter than Falco but she carries herself so confidently that she might as well dwarf him. “Enjoy it while you can, Falco. I’ll catch up to you soon.”
He can only stare in open-mouthed disbelief as Gabi all but swaggers out of the classroom. “H-how?” he asks, running after her.
Gabi shrugs as if she hasn’t figured it out yet. It’s like she really doesn’t care at all.
Udo and Zofia have followed Falco and stand behind him as he clings onto the door frame with a frustrated hand.
“She could probably grow on sheer willpower alone,” Zofia says as she pats Falco’s shoulder sympathetically.
“Probably,” Udo agrees.
Falco sighs, leaning against the doorframe. He should just give up now. He could grow a full meter taller than Gabi, but he’d still never catch up to her. Never, he thinks with a smile.
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reinerispretty · 3 years
Text
beneath the moon. (sokka x reader) pt15
OH WOW okay so because i felt so bad about not updating this for...two weeks? this chapter is extra long. i’m talkin over 5,000 words long. it is also my apology for not updating in so long teehee!!! 
pt1
pt14
pt16
“Friends get excited to see each other,” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I don’t know about you, Aang, but my friends don’t normally kiss me on the cheek when they see me.” Aang laughed as he steered Appa, but Sokka’s expression was less than exuberant. (Y/N) knocked her shoulder against his. “I’m just teasing,” She said lowly, so only Sokka would hear. “I think you guys-“
(Y/N) scrunched her nose in distaste. “This is Lake Laogai?” The place that Joo Dee had mentioned numerous times and Jet had said he had been taken to be brainwashed seemed rather…underwhelming. It was just a lake, albeit an expansive one, with blue green water and a beach surrounding it.  Sokka nudged her side with his elbow. Although she knew he was standing right beside her, the feeling of his touch startled her. She could feel her heartbeat thundering against her chest.
“Come on, Princess. Not everywhere can be a brilliant ice palace.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.
“I get that, but if they’re going to say that a bunch of people go here for vacation all the time, the least they can do is make it look nice. Did they just think no one would come out here to visit?”
“I think it looks just fine,” Toph said as she strolled past the pair. (Y/N) and Sokka gave her a disapproving look that was completely lost on the young girl.
“All I’m saying is having a few beach chairs wouldn’t kill them. I mean, have you seen the Earth King’s palace! He could definitely spare a few coins.”
“I honestly doubt the Earth King knows this place exists,” Katara said.
“What a chump,” Toph said. She walked to the very edge of the lake and knelt down to the ground, her small hand hovering above the sand. “There’s a whole cave underneath the lake.” With one swift earthbending move, she exposed a platform with a large, round entryway at the end. She moved its cover to the side, and their large group hovered over it and stared into the dark cavern below. Jet went first, since he was leading the group, and Aang followed closely behind. The rest of the group followed one by one until eventually, they were all in the underground cave.
“There should be a cell large enough for Appa up ahead,” Jet whispered. “Follow me!” He led them down the hallway, but (Y/N) found herself breaking away from the group. She stopped in front of a room, peering inside to see countless women being brainwashed. It broke (Y/N’s) heart that she could not help them right now. To rescue those women would be to jeopardize their entire mission and risk captivity.
Katara appeared at her side then, grabbing her by the hand and squeezing her fingers. “We’ll help them,” She whispered, a reassuring Katara smile on her lips, and (Y/N) nodded in agreement. She just wished they didn’t have to pick and choose who they could save.
They reached the room where Appa would have been. (Y/N) could see large shackles on the ground in the dim light, where he probably once was, but then she heard the door being earthbended behind her. Instantly, she and her friends realized they were being surrounded. Dozens of Dai Lee agents dangled from the ceiling, and Long Feng stood at the center of the room with a look of harsh disapproval on his face. (Y/N) knew that the entire time she and her friends had been in Ba Sing Se, he had been trying to intimidate and manipulate them, but she still found herself unafraid of his presence. The agents hanging down from above certainly unsettled her, but Long Feng was like every other tribe elder that had told her what she had done throughout her entire life was wrong. If she had an opportunity, she’d like to toss an ice ball at his face.
“You’ve made yourselves enemies of the state,” Long Feng said, and just as (Y/N) slowly inched her fingers toward the cap of her water satchel on her hip, she was forced back, her wrists clamped against the wall by a Dai Lee agent’s rock glove. She cried out in pain, feeling an uncomfortable sensation in one of her wrists.
“(Y/N)!” She heard Sokka shout, just as Toph released her with one movement and knocked a Dai Lee agent into the wall with another. (Y/N) felt the anger rise within her and with a swift flick of her wrist she started to waterbend, but the crippling pain in her wrist nearly caused her to scream. “Are you okay?” Sokka asked, suddenly at her side. His boomerang was poised in his hands. He took her wrist in his hands, his long fingers wrapping around the already bruising skin. (Y/N) couldn’t find the words to answer him. He stared at her with furrowed brows and bounced on anxious feet, eager to join the fight but remaining with her for a reason (Y/N) couldn’t piece together.
She started to panic. She needed to help her friends, but fighting with waterbending was the sort of thing she had to do with two hands, and Katara didn’t have time to quickly heal her wrist. When she finally pulled her eyes away from Sokka’s, she caught a dark green figure running toward them. She pushed Sokka behind her with her good hand and swiftly lifted her leg up high into the air, her water following its direction, and kicked forward. The stream of water followed exactly what she had intended for it to do, hitting the Dai Lee agent harshly and sending him flying backward into the rock wall.
When (Y/N) turned back to Sokka, his eyes were wide. “That was amazing!” (Y/N) grinned at him. Sokka threw his boomerang at an agent coming from her blind spot and the two spent the remainder of the fight watching each other’s backs.  
The fight against the Dai Lee agents continued, but (Y/N) was quickly getting better at waterbending with her legs. It felt a bit unnatural. Waterbending was about moving the energy through your body, and this transference of energy usually took place within your arms and hands. Very little of the whole body was used in waterbending, but she was still able to help her friends with what she could do, and that was all that mattered to her.
Aang and Jet had followed Long Feng as he fled into another room. It took a while for the remainder of the group to subdue the Dai Lee agents, but by the time they had and reunited, they came upon a grave situation. Jet lay on the floor with Aang by his side. Katara rushed to him and immediately started the healing process, but (Y/N) recognized the scared look on her friend’s face that told her it wasn’t working. (Y/N) looked down at Jet, whose face was soft with acceptance, and felt a tug at her heart. This wasn’t fair. Nothing about this war was fair. Innocent people shouldn’t have to die simply because they want to make the world a better place.
She clenched her hands at her sides, feeling the pain in her wrist but ignoring it. Much to her surprise, Sokka placed his own hand over her fist. (Y/N) refused to look up at him, but she refused to pull away.
They resurfaced as their original group. Jet’s friends, Longshot and Smellerbee, had chosen to stay with him. Although she hadn’t known him long, (Y/N) still shed tears over the loss of Jet’s life. She and her friends had felt too much sorrow for a group of kids. It seemed like it would never end. And the Dai Lee agents standing on the beach nearly confirmed this fact.
“Do you think we can outrun them?” Sokka asked Aang as the agents surrounded them on all sides. There was nowhere for them to run to.
“I don’t think it’ll matter,” Aang said. As he finished his statement, Momo landed on his shoulder, chittering loudly in Aang’s ear. “What is it, Momo?” The lemur monkey soared back into the sky, where a large shadow blocked the light of the sun. Appa dropped to the beach, a hefty groan coming from his chest, as he began blowing the agents away with his own airbending. Toph and Aang used earthbending to send the other Dai Lee agents soaring through the air and into the lake.
“I’ll handle you myself,” Long Feng growled, but Appa was too quick for him. He took Long Feng in his mouth by the leg and flung him into Lake Laogai. (Y/N) and her friends cheered and rushed forward to hug the sky bison.
---
Their group had flown to a small piece of land within the lake to rest. (Y/N) sat on the ground with Katara kneeling beside her as she healed her wrist. Toph laid on the ground beside them, her arms tucked behind her head and her eyes closed, face tilted toward the warmth of the sun. Aang had stuck by Appa the entire time they had been there. (Y/N) figured she wouldn’t have wanted to let Appa out of her sight either, if she were in her shoes.
Katara smiled at (Y/N) as she finished healing her. “Should be good as new in an hour or so.” (Y/N) thanked her friend and rotated her wrist. It was sore more than anything now, but the pain had completely disappeared.
“Listen, Katara, I’m sorry about-“ The pained expression on Katara’s face cut her off. (Y/N) bit her bottom lip so hard until it bled. She was still learning how to comfort people who weren’t Yue.
“It’s okay,” Katara said quietly. “I’ll be okay.” (Y/N) smiled, because Katara was right, as she often tended to be. If there was anyone who could handle any challenge thrown at her, it was Katara.
A shadow stood in front of them, blocking the warmth of the sun from the girls. Toph groaned from her position on the ground. “You’re blocking my light!”
“Look, I think we need to head to the Earth King right away and tell him about our plan. We’re on a roll!” Sokka said.
“I hardly think one good hour is a roll,” Katara said.
“I’d say it was a good forty-five minutes,” (Y/N) added. Sokka rolled his eyes at that.
“Whatever it is, we can build on it. We need the Earth King’s support if we want to invade the Fire Nation in time for the eclipse.” Katara shook her head.
“Sokka, Long Feng controls the city. His conspiracy with the Dai Lee is too powerful. I say we fly away and never turn back.”
“I’m with Sweetness,” Toph said. “I’ve been wanting to get out of here as soon as we step foot in this place.”
(Y/N) frowned. As much as it pained her to agree with Sokka, she said, “But we can’t just let those people suffer at the hands of Long Feng. The quicker we expose him, the quicker this whole Dai Lee business can be over. Those women down there can go back to their normal lives.”
“And since we have Appa back,” Aang said, “There’s nothing holding us back from telling the Earth King about everything. The conspiracy and the war.”
“See!” Sokka said, a bright smile on his face. “Aang and (Y/N) are on my side!”
“I guess if the Earth King knew the truth, things would change…” Katara muttered.
“I don’t like new positive Sokka,” Toph grumbled. As they decided what steps to take next, Sokka noticed ships floating across the lake.
“That’s probably the Dai Lee searching for us.” He turned to Katara. “So?” She narrowed her eyes in determination.
“Let’s fly.”
It was a horrifying flight on the way back to Ba Sing Se. With no saddle, everyone had to hold on to Appa’s fur for dear life. (Y/N’s) wrist was still weak, so her grip kept coming loose as she held on. Sokka reached for her, clasping her hand in his so she had an easier time staying on. (Y/N) felt her face grow warm. This was the second time Sokka had held her hand in a day. She hated that she was reading too much into it despite herself. He’s just trying to be a good friend, she thought. “A good friend,” She repeated quietly, because sometimes hearing the words out loud made them seem more real.
“There it is!” Sokka shouted as they flew over the Inner Ring of Ba Sing Se. “That whole thing’s the palace! The Earth King’s chambers must be in the center!”
“We have to be careful,” Katara said. “Long Feng’s probably already warned the Earth King that we’re coming.”
“What makes you say that?” Sokka asked. “I bet from now on it’s gonna be smooth-“ His sentence was interrupted with a shout as a giant boulder flew past them, narrowly missing him.
“What was that?” Toph asked.
“Rocks!” (Y/N) shouted back.
“More incoming!” Sokka called. A boulder came directly at Aang, but he broke it with one swift move of his hand. He rushed forward and sliced through another boulder with his staff, landing on the ground and creating a harsh seismic wave to knock the rest of the soldiers off of their feet. Appa landed behind him and the rest of their team immediately jumped to the ground.
(Y/N’s) wrist was still sore, but she felt reinvigorated from the break she had with her friends and the success of getting Appa back. She and Katara both formed waterwhips with their hands to knock soldiers out of their way. “Sorry!” Katara called to the guards. “We just need to get through to see the Earth King!”
“Katara!” (Y/N) groaned. “They’re attacking us! You don’t have to apologize to them!”
“I just want them to know I’m not trying to hurt them!” As she said this, (Y/N’s) waterwhip wrapped itself around a soldier, lifting him into the air and slamming him down into the ground. The other guards that had surrounded him scattered in fear. “(Y/N)! They’re on the same side as us!”
“If they’re not holding back, why should I?”
They ran to the stairs of the palace, which Toph and Aang turned into a ramp, causing the remainder of the Earth Kingdom guards to slide down the steps. Aang and Toph then earthbended their group up the ramp to the main entryway of the palace. After a few mishaps, they finally found where they were supposed to go. “Through there!” Sokka shouted, and their group ran through the large, ornately decorated double doors that led into the Earth King’s throne room.
Convincing the Earth King that there was a war happening outside of the walls of his city was no easy task. The Dai Lee had destroyed their cave under Lake Laogai, disrupting their plan of showing King Kuei that evidence. It was only when they finally showed him the Fire Nation drill, still sticking halfway through the outermost wall, that he had started to believe they were telling the truth. He had Long Feng arrested for conspiracy and his office searched and agreed to give his troops to help fight the Fire Nation.
As their group was celebrating this massive victory for their cause, one of the generals entered the king’s quarters. “Your majesty,” said General How. “We searched Long Feng’s office and found something that would be of interest to everybody.” He set a box down on the king’s desk, opening it to reveal dozens of scrolls. “Secret records about everyone in the city, including you kids.” He handed Toph her scroll first, who passed it to Katara to read.
“It’s a letter from your mom! She’s in the city and wants to see you!” And Toph smiled the brightest smile that (Y/N) had ever seen.
“Long Feng intercepted letters from home? That’s just sad.” The General then passed Aang a letter that had been tied to Appa’s horn when he first came to the city. It was from a guru at the Eastern Air Temple who offered help on learning how to control the Avatar State.
“Is there anything for me?” (Y/N) asked, peering into the box. General How pulled out a thinly rolled scroll with her name written on it in small letters. She unrolled it, with all of her friends except Toph looking over her shoulder to see what it said. (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she finished reading it, tearing the letter to shreds.
“What was it?” Toph asked.
“A marriage proposal,” (Y/N) grumbled, crossing her arms. It was another proposal from Hahn, the very same person that had been engaged to her sister and who (Y/N) had punched in the face. It seemed he was bent on gaining access to the throne of the Northern Water Tribe and would do whatever was necessary to obtain it. Even if it was pestering her with another lousy proposal.
“Are you…Are you gonna accept it?” Aang asked, and (Y/N) scoffed.
“Of course not!”
“Is there anything for us?” Katara asked the General, who solemnly shook his head.
“But there is an intelligence report.” He passed it to Katara, who unrolled the scroll and read it with her head pressed against Sokka’s.
“A small fleet of Water Tribe ships,” Katara read aloud, “Protecting the mouth of Chameleon Bay…Led by Hakoda—It is dad!” The siblings hugged each other in their excitement.
It was decided then, after finding out about the different paths they could each go on, that it would be best if the group split up. Toph would reunite with her mother, Aang would travel to the Eastern Air Temple, Sokka and Katara could go see their dad, and (Y/N) supposed she would remain with the Earth King. Someone had to, after all, and it wasn’t like she had received any urgent letters from her own family. The rumors about the state of her tribe that Jet had told her settled in an uncomfortable pit in her stomach, but she didn’t want to ruin the chance of Sokka and Katara reuniting with their father.
“If I’m going to the Eastern Air Temple,” Aang said, “I can drop you off at Chameleon Bay to see your dad.”
“Someone has to stay here and help the Earth King plan the invasion,” Sokka said with a sigh. “I guess that’s me.”
“No, Sokka, I know how much you wanna see Dad. I’ll stay,” Katara offered.
“I could stay,” (Y/N) countered. “I didn’t get any urgent messages or have any family members to see.”
“But didn’t you say things weren’t going well back in your tribe?” Toph asked.  
“Well, yes, but-“
“We could use the military help from the Northern Tribe,” Sokka said, stroking his chin. “And if the Princess goes back there, we could convince them to help!”
“Then it’s settled!” Katara clasped her hands together. “Aang will drop off Sokka and (Y/N) at Chameleon Bay. There, they can take a ship back to the North and work on gathering more volunteers!”
“Katara, I can really stay, I don’t mind!” Part of (Y/N) was eager to go back home and deal with these throne challengers, but another part of her dreaded the idea of going back. It had been so long, and she had wanted to escape from the Northern Water Tribe for so long.
“No, it’s a great plan!” Katara smiled at her friend, who sighed and glanced at Sokka. His own eyes were cast her way and a soft smile rested on his lips.
A few hours later, they were preparing to say their goodbyes to one another. (Y/N) gripped onto Katara tightly as she hugged her, feeling stupid tears welling at the backs of her eyes. The trip to the Northern Water Tribe would take weeks, so it would probably be months before they saw each other again. Katara pulled away from the hug, her own eyes shiny. “Take good care of my idiot brother, okay?” (Y/N) laughed as she wiped away a stray tear with the heel of her hand.
“Your majesty!” An Earth Kingdom soldier approached their group. “A group of female warriors are here to see you. They’re from Kyoshi.”
(Y/N) heard a thud and then Sokka was on the ground, when just a moment ago he had been on top of Appa’s back. “That’s Suki!”
“You know these warriors?” The king asked.
“Oh yeah. The Kyoshi Warriors are a skilled group of fighters. Trustworthy, too. They’re good friends of ours.” As Sokka finished his sentence, (Y/N) couldn’t help but remember just how good of friends he had been with Suki, that night on the Serpent’s Pass. She inhaled a deep breath and forced a smile to her face. Despite her jealousy, she really liked Suki, and was disappointed that they wouldn’t get to see each other.
“Then we will treat them as honored guests.” The Earth King gave a final bow before marching back into the palace.
“I’m really gonna miss you guys,” Toph said, rubbing the bottoms of her feet against the bare rock. (Y/N) wrapped her in a hug.
“It’s not going to be for long!” She reassured her, and before she knew it, Katara had joined their hug, then Aang, until finally Sokka wrapped his arms around all of them. Then (Y/N), Aang, and Sokka climbed into Appa’s saddle and took off into the sky. Their journey to Chameleon Bay wouldn’t be that long; less than a day at most.
“It’s a bummer we couldn’t see Suki,” Aang said. “You’re probably super disappointed, huh Sokka?” Aang smiled up at Sokka innocently, but both he and (Y/N) knew exactly what he was insinuating. (Y/N) looked at Sokka, curious to see what his answer would be.
“Yeah, you guys were pretty close when we were on the Serpent’s Pass.” She knew she was pressing his buttons, but annoying Sokka distracted her from the annoying jealousy she felt. He rolled his eyes.
“Friends get excited to see each other,” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I don’t know about you, Aang, but my friends don’t normally kiss me on the cheek when they see me.” Aang laughed as he steered Appa, but Sokka’s expression was less than exuberant. (Y/N) knocked her shoulder against his. “I’m just teasing,” She said lowly, so only Sokka would hear. “I think you guys-“
“Speaking of excited!” Aang cut her off, having not heard that she was talking. “You haven’t seen your dad in two years! You must be so excited!”
“I know I should be, but I just feel sick to my stomach,” Sokka said, pressing a hand to his stomach.
“I’m sure your dad will be excited enough for the both of you. What’s he like?” (Y/N) rested her chin on her kneecaps to listen to Sokka’s description of his father.
“Well he’s just like me, super intelligent and smart with ruggedly good looks-“
“Intelligent and smart are the same thing.”
“Stop interrupting! Anyway, he was chief back in the Southern Water Tribe, but he kind of passed that role onto Gran Gran when he had to fight the Fire Nation. The last time I saw him he could only stay home for a day, but he spent the whole day playing with Katara and I. He’s a great dad.”
“He sounds really nice.” Sokka smiled at her, resulting in her own smile.
They landed at Chameleon Bay under an hour later. Sokka and (Y/N) said their goodbyes to Aang before walking along the beach to where the men of the Southern Water Tribe were camped. (Y/N) couldn’t help her own nerves. Besides Sokka and Katara, she had never met anyone else from the Southern Water Tribe before. She worried that they would think less of her because she was from the North, where their practices were very backwards.
“Do you think they’ll help me?” She asked suddenly. Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Our two tribes haven’t exactly had the best communication over the years. Why should they help me if my tribe hasn’t helped you all? I mean, we’ve been completely complacent in this war besides what happened a few months ago.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Sokka said. “To convince your tribe that this is a cause worth fighting for! And by doing that, you’d singlehandedly be helping my tribe and the rest of the world.” (Y/N) gulped, not only from the circumstances but from the fact that Sokka had just laced his fingers through hers. “If you’re scared about them not liking you, that’s all you have to say.”
“I’m not scared of that!” (Y/N) snapped. “I don’t care what people think of me.” Sokka snorted.
“Whatever you say, Princess.” He tugged on her hand to lead her forward to camp, but was still holding it as they stepped foot inside.
“Sokka, good to see you,” one of the warriors said, and Sokka gave him a pleasant nod before heading to the war tent. (Y/N) pulled her hand from his as they approached the entrance.
“I’ll wait outside so you guys can have a proper reunion,” She stretched out her hand. Was it possible to still feel someone’s touch after they were done touching you? Sokka hesitated in front of the door flap and (Y/N) rolled her eyes, giving him a hard shove forward. “Go!”
She waited outside the tent for a few minutes, wringing her hands out of nervousness. So maybe Sokka had been just a bit right: she was scared of the people of this tribe not liking her. She was royalty of the Northern Water Tribe, after all. As far as (Y/N) knew, when Sokka and Katara’s tribe had been raided over the years, her tribe hadn’t offered any help. They had locked themselves behind their high ice walls and refused to come out. If (Y/N) ever returned to her tribe to lead it, she wouldn’t be that kind of chief. She had seen how much pain there was in the world and she wanted to do everything in her power to alleviate it.
Sokka left the tent first, with a tall, tanned man following closely behind him. (Y/N) could see the resemblance almost instantly. The man held the same striking blue eyes that Sokka and Katara had and his build was nearly identical to Sokka’s. He looked at her with a soft smile that reached his eyes. “You must be the friend Sokka was telling me about. I’m Hakoda.” (Y/N) bowed.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Sokka and Katara have told me so much about you.”
“(Y/N’s) from the Northern Water Tribe,” Sokka said, and she glared at him because she hadn’t exactly been ready to delve into that information just yet. He gave her a bright grin in return.
“Really! That must be a popular name up there, last I heard there was a princess in the North with the same name.”
“That, um, would be me.” (Y/N) smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. Hakoda’s eyes widened.
“Apologies, Princess (Y/N), my son neglected to tell me that you were royalty!” He let out a hefty laugh that all dads had in common.
“It’s really alright, I’m not much of a princess anymore.”
“Are you both hungry? Our camp was just about to eat lunch.” Sokka’s stomach grumbled, answering his father’s question. Hakoda led the both of them to the center of the camp, where logs surrounded the campfire. A pot of stew bubbled atop it as men stood in line to gather their bowls.
“I can get your stew for you,” Sokka said, taking (Y/N’s) bowl from her hands. “Can you find us a seat?” She took a seat at a log to the right of the campfire and placed her bag in the spot beside her to signify that someone would be sitting there. Sokka rejoined her just a few minutes later, speed-walking over to her as he wore a pained expression on his face. “These bowls get really hot!” He said with a hissing voice as he handed her one of the bowls. (Y/N) giggled.
Hakoda stood at the front of the beach, where all eyes could see him. “As many of you know, my son Sokka arrived at our camp today.” The men whooped and hollered for him and (Y/N) smiled at the light blush that dusted Sokka’s cheeks. “He brought along his friend and our sister from the Northern Water Tribe, Princess (Y/N).” There were more cheers, but also whispers and murmurs passing through the camp. Suddenly it felt like every eye was on her as Hakoda took his seat beside on the other side of Sokka. Was she supposed to say something? Yue was always the one that addressed the crowds at any gathering, since she was the oldest.
(Y/N) gave a panicked look to Sokka. He placed his hand on her shoulder and stood, his fingertips just barely grazing her and he spoke to the men of his tribe. “(Y/N) and I came here to not only reunite with you all, but to ask for your help. If we sail a few of your ships to the North, we think that (Y/N) can convince them to contribute members of their own military to the war effort.”
“Sokka,” Hakoda said, his voice low in warning. “The Northern tribe hasn’t fought in the war for almost as long as it’s been happening. Do you really think you kids can do this?”
(Y/N) took a deep breath and stood. As she stared at the crowd of men, she thought of how Yue would act in situations like these. “A few months ago, the Fire Nation attacked the Northern Water Tribe. We were able to fight them off, but only because my older sister sacrificed her life to save all of us. I didn’t have much of a say in anything before I left home. I’m sure you’ve heard of some of our more backwards traditions. But I’ve seen what the war is like, what it has done to people and to our world. It is mine and Sokka’s belief that if we go back and tell them, whether it be through your stories or through mine, we can get my father and his troops to back us in this war.” She paused for a moment, her hands tightening in the fabric of her dress. “My people haven’t been good to yours, but I’m devoted to changing that. If you’ll let me.” She sat back down and took her bowl into her hands only to realize that they were shaking. Sokka took his seat once more.
“You did great!” He cheered. “You sounded so…so…princess-y! How did you do that?”
“Well I’m kind of a princess, if you haven’t noticed.” Sokka rolled his eyes.
“You sounded like a leader.” Hakoda leaned behind his son to smile at (Y/N).
A warrior approached them just a few moments later. “Hakoda, our scouts have spotted Fire Nation ships nearby!” All three of them stood as Hakoda began calling out orders.
“Bato! Get those mines loaded up! The rest of you men, prepare for battle!”
“What should I do, Dad?” Hakoda smiled down at his son.
“Aren’t you listening? I said, ‘The rest of you men, prepare for battle.’” He ran off to gather his armor and weapons. Sokka turned back to (Y/N).
“If I asked you to stay here, would you?”
“Absolutely not! There’s got to be some armor around here that will fit me.” He guided her through the camp to where the men were gathering their armor and weapons. (Y/N) had no training in anything other than waterbending, so she avoided the sharp objects and settled for pulling on the pieces of armor that looked like they would fit. Sokka helped her tie the straps and adjust her waterbending pouch on her hip. The armor was heavier than she expected, but (Y/N) hopefully wouldn’t be doing any physical fighting.
Once everything had been properly placed, she turned to look at Sokka. “Do I look ridiculous?” She asked, a light laugh following her question. Sokka looked her up and down, another blush rising to his cheeks as he shook his head and put on his wolf helmet. He and (Y/N) walked side-by-side onto the war ship where his father was waiting.
“I’m fighting too,” Was all (Y/N) said to Hakoda. He smiled.
“Happy to have you.” As they prepared to cast off from shore, (Y/N) filled her waterbending pouch with seawater as Sokka talked to his father. Then she heard a familiar groan coming from the skies and looked up to see Appa close to landing on the beach.
“Sokka…” (Y/N) said. He looked back and gripped his boomerang tightly.
“That can’t be good.”
---
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177 notes · View notes
lesbian-dp · 4 years
Text
I Hate You
Part Two: Is This What Hate Feels Like?
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Words: 1,560
Warnings: Remnants of spanking/rougher sex, talks of arguing, couch sex, fingers. Think that’s it.
Request: Yee.
Summary: Well, fuck.
A/N: This was long awaited, and asked for repeatedly. So I hope you guts rlly like this.
ALSO!! This it dedicated to @caws5749 for our servers ‘Mad’s Day’!
18+ ONLY.
***
A small hum came from the bed, causing you to look up from where you were fastening your pants, to peer at the waking red-head.
Natasha was naked still, skin no longer shiny with sweat. The room, being warm enough for you not to need a cover over you. She was faced away from you, sleeping peacefully, as you got up and started getting dressed. But now, with her arms raised above her head, stretching the sleep away, she turned to watch you, arms moving to cross underneath her head.
She was a sight. Even you could admit that. With her hooded eyes, and messy hair. And that body that you could go on forever, displayed in the most perfect way. Breasts pressed into the soft comforter, granting you the gift of a peek of the side. Bruises from where your fingers had been, littering her ribs and all the way down to her hips. Blush-red handprints adorning Natasha's plump ass.
"Hey," you say to her, moving to grab your t-shirt from where it lay discarded and crumpled on the floor on the floor, "I didn't mean to wake you."
Natasha shrugged her shoulders, as she watched you pull your t-shirt on. "You didn't, really." At your furrowed eyebrows, Natasha continued, "I just got a little cold."
You hummed as she turned onto her side, breasts now fully on show. And the marks you made with them. Natasha saw the small up-turn of your lip, before you moved your face away so that she couldn't see it, and use it against you. Which she, thankfully, didn't.
Natasha's head rested in her hand, as she spoke, "You can stay, you know. We're just gonna end up fucking again in the morning anyway. It might as well be in a bed and not some random hallway."
You chuckled lightly to yourself, which made the red-head feel a strange fuzzy sensation run through her body when she saw your smile.
"Nah. We can't let the team know what we get up to, now can we?"
"They already know," Natasha scoffed.
Humming once again, you leaned over the bed to reach the naked Russian, giving her a sharp, playful bite to the side of her love bitten neck. Before pulling away with a wink, beginning to make your way from the room.
"That may be right, but I'd rather not see their shit-eating grins before I eat tomorrow." You opened the door. "Bye-bye, Natty-dearest."
"I hate it when you call me that!"
You laughed loudly, closing the door behind you.
***
The team was thankful ever since you started, whatever it was, with Natasha.
In the beginning, things were almost the exact same. All but the fact that there was less steam between the two of you. The arguments and snappy comments still came the same, the anger that seemed almost never-ending, still there, and thriving.
But now. Now, there was a new outlet for it.
Instead of arguing for hours on end, and driving the team up the wall with it. Not to mention worsening your relationship with each other.
Now you just fucked it out.
Tony had to re-soundproof both of your rooms, multiple times. But that seemed to be all for nothing. As you two would end up having sex anywhere in the compound.
But still...
It was better than you being fuming at each other for days on end.
It had gotten to the point where you would have sex, not even to just get your anger out.
The team had learned quickly not to comment on the fact if they did not want a swift punch directed towards them.
You knew that you no longer hated Natasha.
You don't think you ever really did.
However, you knew this was different. These feelings were different. And you couldn't quite put your finger on what they were.
You wondered if Natasha felt the same.
Did you even want her too?
But you couldn't think about that, right now.
Right now. In your position, on the common room's couch, with Natasha laid under you. And your tongue buried deep into her cunt.
"Oh, God, Y/N!" Natasha whined loudly. Her hands pulling sharply at your hair, as she bucked her hips up into your mouth.
The sound she let out were delicious. That was something you noticed since that first night you spent together.
You pulled away from her core, sucking on her soft wet lips as you did. Letting them go with a smack of your lips. You could tell Natasha wasn't the happiest, because you pulled away, as she was just starting to get close to her release.
"You like that, baby?" teasingly dragging your tongue over her pussy, watching Natasha's eyes roll into the back of her head for a split second, and her eyebrows furrowing as she panted. Unable to move her hips further to your face, thanks to your hands on her hips, securing her to the soft cotton couch. But she tried. Oh, she tried. "Ya like when I take you like this? Fucking you with my tongue. Making you scream from only that."
She nodded her head vigorously at your words. Wanting you to carry on, doing just that.
"Say it," you demanded, "Let me hear those beautiful words, I want to hear you. Beg for it."
"Please, Y/N!" Natasha burst. Unable to hold herself at bay any longer.
"Tell me, baby. Tell me exactly what you want."
"I want-" She swallowed, taking a deep breath before she continued, “I need you. Your tongue. Your fingers. Please. Anything. Just make me come," she begged.
You smirked. You were gonna go easy on her, about to give her everything she had asked for and more.
Before she toppled your scales.
"Please make me come, like only you can."
Something inside of you snapped.
Without a blink of your eye, you shoved three of your fingers deep within Natasha. Sliding up her body, so that you were face to face, as Natasha let out a pleasure-filled scream.
"Yeah, that's right, baby. Scream for me."
"AAH! FUCK! Y/N!"
She was absolutely whithering below you. Pleasure flowing throughout her veins, gasps and moans tearing from her throat.
You chuckled into Natasha's ear, while your fingers vigorously pounded into her.
You love it don't you?" you whispered, "My finger's deep inside of you. Bet they can fuck you better than yours can."
"Cocky," Natasha gasped out.
Moving to stare into the red-heads beautiful green eyes,-
Wait.
'Beautiful green eyes?'
-Throwing her a smirk.
"I'm cocky?"
You watched her nod, too overcome with pleasure to be able to say something else, so soon.
"Well," you started, "Am I wrong to say that you're no longer ignoring me as I give you orgasm after orgasm."
Natasha's face scrunched up, telling you all that you need to know. Her eyes shining at you. You knew she loved it when you fucked her. She had never ignored you. Always picturing you when she got herself off. The feeling of knowing that made your ego rise.
Natasha rolled her eyes at your smug smile, the self-righteousness shining behind your eyes.
She hated how turned on that made her.
How she knew you would tease her, hold that against her, and fuck her so good.
"Tell me," you said, but before Natasha could nod her head again, "With your words. I wanna hear you admit it."
Natasha gasped. "You're a sadistic bastard, you know that."
"Yes. Now. Tell me."
"Ugh, God," she growled frustrated, throwing her head back.
Hands smacked onto either side of your face, pulling you closer to Natasha's, as she lustfully sneered against your lips, "I fucking love it when you fuck me. Why would I ever ignore you, when you're making me feel so good?"
Natasha finished off her declaration, by smashing her lips against yours.
To say you were shocked by Natasha's confession would be an understatement. Your eyes were wide and mouth agape, before Natasha kissed you.
She pulled away from the intense kiss, with a small breath. Lips still brushing against yours, as she husked, "Now fuck me."
Oh, you were gonna do just that.
You pounded your fingers into Natasha's silky wet core, at a bruising rate. Feeling her walls clench tightly around them, making your lustful state heighten.
God. The things this woman could do to you, without even knowing it.
Natasha came with a scream. One so loud, that it would be almost impossible for the whole compound not to have heard it.
Her thighs clamped tightly around your arm, keeping you in place, while she buckled her hips. Riding out her high. Her core clenching your fingers so hard that you were sure she could break them, from that alone. Her delicious juices flowing from her and down your wrist.
Once Natasha had finally realised your hand, and you carefully removed your fingers. You flopped down beside her on the spacious couch. Panting just as hard as she was.
You don't know what came over you.
You don't know what you were thinking.
Oh, yeah. That's right. You weren't thinking.
But, at that moment. With Natasha's almost fully clothed body beside you. Her workout pants and underwear still around her ankles, as her orgasm still dripped out of her. Everything felt calm.
"I love you."
Oh.
608 notes · View notes
tmngoose · 3 years
Text
Cause for Concern: an OC one-shot
Alternate Title: Hurt/Comfort Characters: Rikki, Red Fox, Jupiter Jim, Clem, Rikki's mom (mentioned) Tags: ANGST, Anxiety, Distress, Poor familial relationships, Abuse, Minor Injuries/bruising/scabs, Hurt/Comfort, Blanket forts, Lots of comforting, Additional Tags to be added... Summary: Rikki gets a letter in the mail and Red has a right to worry. Word Count: ~1,799 -x- A/N: I know what you're thinking. "Goosey! This isn't any of the updates you promised us >:C what's up with this OC baloney?" -- Ok, yes, but listen; I wrote this mainly to practice writing Red Fox and Jupiter Jim since I'll be (ahem) writing them very soon for a certain somethin'-somethin' (Also? I need to update Let's Make a Deal and this was good practice to get back into writing for Rikki). I won't be uploading this to my Ao3. Read Cause for Concern under the read more:
It started with a letter—a small black envelope that came in with the rest of the mail: the bills, the take-out menus, and the weekly Stock and Shop circulars.
It was addressed to Rikki, which was odd to Red since Rikki never received mail; at least nothing intimate.
"Hey, Rikki! You got mail today!" Red said as soon as the mongoose returned from her shift at Clem's. She presented Rikki with the black envelope, her tail swishing excitedly.
"That's for me?" Rikki raised a brow.
They settled down at the kitchen table. Red sat across from Rikki, who examined the mysterious piece of mail. There was no return address, and the envelope was perfumed with something that made Rikki's nose wrinkle. She turned the envelope over, and that was when she saw it; the ivory wax seal depicting the image of fang—her family's crest.
Red's grin shrank as Rikki tensed, the color draining from her face, "Well? Who's it from, Rik?"
"It's… ah…," Rather than answering Red, Rikki reached for their salt shaker and unscrewed the metal cap. She poured a perfect circle onto the wooden surface, then dropped the envelope into its center.
Suddenly, it burst into a column of purple flames.
"Oh, my stars!" Red gasped. Her red banded-tail morphed into a giant hand and reached into the cabinet under the sink for the fire extinguisher.
"Don't worry, it'll put itself out," stated Rikki, unbothered by the phenomena. "It's a hex message."
"A 'hex message?'" Red furrowed her brow as the flames flickered before them, contained within the circle of salt. "I've heard of chain letters cursing folks, but this is just plain rude! Who would do such a thing?!"
"My mom."
"Oh," Red's tail twitched. It was a touchy subject they never discussed, mainly because Rikki avoided any conversation regarding family relations—especially if they were about her mother.
When the purple flames disappeared—embers and all—a scorch mark was left behind; Rikki buffed it out with the sleeve of her hoodie. Now that the letter was 'cleansed,' she sliced open the side of the envelope with her claw and emptied a folded piece of parchment into her hand.
The apartment fell silent as Rikki read the letter. Red knew better than to pry, even if the suspense kept her at the edge of her seat.
"Mom wants me to come home—for a visit, not to stay," Rikki grimaced, "She wants to 'talk.'"
"When?" Red asked while Rikki calmly tore the letter into tiny squares.
"A-sap," Rikki brushed the bits of paper into her palm and stuffed them inside the pouch on her hoodie. She went over to the tiny coat closet by the front door and retrieved an old backpack that would suffice as an overnight bag.
"W-wait, you're leaving now?" Red pushed back her chair. Her stomach twisted, and a feeling of dread penetrated her bones. She had no idea where the influx of anxiety came from, but it was enough to get her fur to stand on end.
Rikki shrugged, "I can't keep the lady waiting."
"What about work?"
"I'll tell Clem somethin' came up. Besides, that's what PTOs are for..."
"Is everything alright?" Red's ears flattened, perturbed. "You're not in trouble, are you?" Why would she think Rikki was in trouble? Maybe Rikki's mother always communicated via hex messages. Perhaps that was just how yūrei's spoke to one another; a cultural thing.
Rikki didn't answer. She quietly stuffed her toiletries into a plastic baggie, then went into her bedroom to gather a change of clothes. The silence between them only told Red that she was right to fret about her roomie's well-being.
"… It's nothing, Red," Rikki answered, slipping her headphones around the back of her neck. "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine."
Red's unconvinced by the string of reassurance; they sound a lot like empty promises, "Rikki…."
"Red, I'll be fine," Rikki crammed her chargers and electronics into the small pocket of her backpack. "I should be back sometime soon-ish. We'll order sushi and throw ourselves a little party, ok?"
"… okay," Red stepped out of Rikki's way, reluctantly letting the mongoose pass by. She escorted Rikki to the elevator down the hall and playfully elbowed her in the arm, "Call me if you need back-up, yeah?"
"Whatever floats your goat, space ace," Rikki snorted as she waited for the elevator's arrival. She slung her bulky backpack over her shoulder, "And speaking of goats, I better call Clem…."
Rikki forced a smile as the elevator doors slowly closed. Red saw past the mongoose's attempt at feigning confidence; the distant, fearful look in her eyes gave her away. Red suppressed the urge to summon the elevator and prevent Rikki from leaving.
Red told herself that it was all in her head, the idea that nothing good would come from Rikki's trip to her mother's. She knew Rikki could take care of herself.
Rikki will be back before you know it, Red thought to herself. It'll be alright. I'm sure her mother's a lovely person...
__________
Rikki didn't come home the next day. Or the following day. Or the day after that. When Red tried reaching Rikki on her cell phone, her attempts led her directly to the mongoose's inbox.
Not even Clem heard from Rikki, although he was instructed to 'use her sick days if she ran out of PTO.'
Red kept herself busy with menial chores to steel her nerves and stop her imagination from crafting worst-case scenarios. When she wasn't cleaning the apartment, the yōkai volunteered at the community theater, ran errands, and hunted for Scor-Pion with Jupiter Jim.
"Why so blue, Red?" Jupiter Jim asked during one of their stakeouts atop the eccentric actor's apartment building. "You mustn't let Scor-Pion get you down. The elusive fiend will show himself soon enough!"
"It's not that," Red sighed. "It's my roomie/friend! She's been gone for almost a week, and I've lost all forms of direct communication with her! And even if I wanted to go searching for her, I have no idea where she could be!"
"Hm, that is quite the predicament. I wouldn't be surprised if Scor-Pion is behind your friend's mysterious disappearance!"
"I doubt it…," Red peered through her binoculars and scanned the city's skyline, hoping to spy Rikki. She perked up when she felt Jupiter Jim's hand clasp onto her shoulder, "Sir?"
"Have faith in your friend," Jupiter Jim consoled. "The universe is a vast place, yet we all find our way home sooner or later. We must welcome the weary when they return, but to do so, it's crucial to keep our spirits high."
Red smiled weakly at the profound piece of wisdom, "Thank you, Sir."
The mood was ruined when Jupiter Jim mistook an old lady with a green skin complexion as Scor-Pion. Fortunately, Red's prehensile tail was strong enough to hold the space adventure back from ambushing the strange senior citizen.
If only Red used her tail to keep Rikki from leaving...
_____________
It was Wednesday night. Red had finished washing the dishes and was now standing at the kitchen counter, prepping vegetables for dinner. She was so preoccupied with peeling potatoes that she failed to notice someone unlocking the front door.
And that someone was Rikki.
"Hey, I'm back," Rikki announced as she closed the door behind her.
"Rikki!" Red exclaimed, dropping the potato peeler and spud into the sink. She ran over to Rikki and hugged her tightly, "Leaping light-years, you have no idea how worried I was! You didn't call or text, and Clem said—"
Red froze. Her eyes darted from Rikki's black eye to the bruise on her cheek. Several small knicks speckled the side of her brow. They were scabs now, but the implication that Rikki had bled was still there.
So this was the kind of relationship Rikki had with her mother: a bad one.
Rikki isn't put off by the horrified look on Red's face, "Honestly? It's not as bad as it looks. In fact, I think things went better than I expected." She tried maintaining a modest tone, but it faltered.
I knew I shouldn't have let you go, Red frowned. Hesitantly, she tried reaching up to touch the bruise on Rikki's cheek.
"I'm gonna go take a shower," Rikki said as she casually ducked away from Red's hand. "I had to take the long way back, and I'm kinda gross. Do you need the bathroom?"
"N-No, you go ahead. I'm making stew for dinner. Would you like some?"
"Naaah. I'm not that hungry…."
Red nodded, "Copy that." She watched Rikki's bushy tail drag across the floorboards on her way towards the bathroom.
The universe is a vast place, yet we all find our way home sooner or later…
"Hey, Rikki?"
"Hmm?"
"Welcome home…"
It's such a warm, simple greeting, yet it meant so much to Rikki. She got as far as the hallway before she grabbed onto the wall for support. She sank to the floor and curled in on herself, trembling.
In a split-second, Red's beside her. She held Rikki close, protecting her by wrapping her striped tail around her body. She never heard Rikki cry before; the mongoose is quiet with the occasional whimper that breaks Red's heart.
Red held her tighter, "… We can still order sushi if you want…."
Rikki sniffled, "Yeah, I-I'd like that."
"Heh heh, good! Honestly, I was getting tired of peeling all those potatoes!"
_____________________
Stacks of aluminum take-out containers are left on the kitchen table with empty plastic cups of soy sauce. They make good on their promise to throw themselves a party. So Red and Rikki dragged their mattresses out from their bedrooms and constructed a blanket fort around them.
Once their nightly bathroom rituals are completed, they pile into their fort. Red noticed a few more bruises on Rikki's forearms that were previously hidden by the mongoose's hoodie.
"Clem said he'd give me the day off tomorrow," Rikki said as she slid her phone underneath her pillow. "I told him I had a rough trip. He understands."
"Aw, that's nice of him," Red yawned as she rolled onto her side, facing Rikki. Goodness gracious, who would've thought all this worrying could be so exhausting...
"Hey, Red?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," apologized Rikki, her voice hoarse. She stared up at the canopy of mismatched blankets and bedsheets, "I'm sorry I didn't keep you in the loop..."
"Don't worry about it, Rik," Red scooched over towards Rikki, "I understand."
They nestled against each other, their tails entwined--another layer of comfort. Red felt obligated to ensure Rikki fell asleep and didn't stay awake to think about whatever cruelties she endured at her mother's. Only when Red was sure Rikki was fast asleep did she finally allow her eyelids to shutter.
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cherrywoes · 3 years
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ichi. (acanthus.)
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SAKURA GENTLY RAN HER fingers across the soft, barely there pinpricks of hair at the back of her head. The knots had been too large to untangle without time and copious amounts of conditioner, and while she lamented the loss of growth, she found she quite liked the style. There was enough hair left on the top of her head that it could easily cover the uneven lengths of hair clinging to the bottom half of her scalp. She peered at herself through a small hand mirror Tsunade had provided her and didn’t like what she found. She looked too pale, malnourished, and the once healthy glow she had when she was free had vanished. She looked every bit the prisoner they had made her to be.
Any hope she had previously shriveled up and died when she looked at the crimson mark upon her forehead. When she touched it experimentally, it zinged! into the back of her brain where she felt strange bolts of electricity bounce back and forth within and route back to the mark. It was a very harsh reminder that she was no longer Sakura Haruno—she was someone else, someone who killed her teammates because her pride wouldn’t let her admit to her own weakness.
She gave Tsunade the mirror and pointedly ignored the curious look the Hokage sent her out of the corner of her eye.
“Your trial will be as straightforward as it can be, given the circumstances.” Tsunade tucked the mirror into her pocket with a sigh. She looked tired, as well, as she always did since she had become Hokage. Using sake as her coping mechanism didn’t do her any good, either, despite her younger appearance; Sakura could see it weighing on her, the drag of age and idleness. “I don’t think there’s much you can do in your own defense except to be honest; if you’re lucky, the elders might put you in for an extended prison stay—or they could also execute you outright.”
“Isn’t that what everyone wants though?” Sakura pulled her knees to her chest and squeezed them in an attempt to comfort herself. She didn’t have Naruto to reassure her that everything was okay; he was outside of the village, tracking down an errant Sasuke—his life had boiled down into an endless chase of their former teammate. It was all he could think about the last time she had seen him, his mind focused on dragging him back to Konoha even if it was the last thing the Uchiha wanted for himself. He would hate her, too, for this. “For me to be executed?”
Tsunade frowned. “They want answers, Sakura. The families of the men and women you killed, the wives and husbands and sons and daughters—they all want to know why you did it.”
She closed her eyes, faces flashing through her mind in a quick succession. Yamanaka eyes; Hyuuga eyes; the large frame of an Akamichi, smiling, offering her slices of fruit. “I guess they’ll be disappointed when they learn it was because I lost my abilities and killed them instead because of my own stupidity.”
“You underestimate them, Sakura.” The blonde woman shook her head slowly and gathered up the worn and dirty clothes she had left hanging on the side of the basin. “They’re going to hate you for it. It’s your decision whether or not you give them further reason to hate you even more, or prove them wrong and make up for your mistakes.”
Sakura opened her eyes and stared obstinately at the wall, listening to the words unsaid: if they even accept your apology to begin with.
She didn’t expect acceptance at all.
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When Sakura took her first step outside in months, the sun made her eyes water uncontrollably. It was no longer winter within Konoha—not that she had ever favored it to begin with—but autumn, the trees turning from green to a myriad of shades between orange, red, and yellow hues. The grass beneath her shoes was crisp, on the verge of decaying and preparing for the next winter, and filled the air with a familiar scent she hadn’t been sure she would ever experience ever again. The sun was comforting and warm as it surrounded her in a suffocating embrace, her skin already starting to turn rusty red with a sunburn. She didn’t mind it, though—it was almost a reminder of the life she had lied to keep and lost.
“Sakura.” Kakashi stood, waiting for her outside the doors of the prison complex. He was early and nearly on time, Icha Icha Paradise’s sienna cover just barely visible from behind his back, tucked away into his pocket. He looked as tired as Sakura felt, dark eye bags highly visible against his skin, so much so that it looked as if he had earned two right hooks to both eyes. “Are you ready? Or do you want to bask in the sun some more?”
Once, she might have thought he was teasing. But the look in his eye, the tone of his voice, all denoted that he was serious, that he would risk being late if she wanted to sit in the sun and burn just a little bit longer, to feel the freedom that had been taken from her by her own actions. She considered it, momentarily, looking to the sky. The light burned her eyes and a single teardrop fell from her right eye and slid down her cheek. “No.”
“Alright then.” He looked unsure, then, eyeing the ANBU guards that stood behind her in their respective Raccoon and Panda masks. She had never seen them before until now, but she knew that Kakashi didn’t recognize them, either, and it was most likely a deliberate move on the council’s part. “Let’s go then.”
The walk to the Hokage tower and, consequently, the council chambers where her trial would be held, was not a peaceful procession. People, ninja and civilians alike—faces she didn’t recognize, she thought with some relief, even though guilt gnawed at her heart—screamed at her, got so close that spittle flew in her face when they yelled obscenities at her. When words failed, they began throwing rotten fruit, vegetables, and even pots of molding and old food. Several slices of sour cantaloupe slid down her cheek, juices clinging to her skin, gnats flocking to the scent. Her ANBU did nothing to prevent them from chucking a pot of scalding chicken broth on her, either. They were for the public’s safety, not hers; and even so, they wouldn’t have stopped them even if they had been ordered to, she figured.
When it touched her skin, burned like acid and lit her body on fire, she didn’t scream. Burnt, acrid flesh was not a pleasant odor, and combined with the chicken broth, it sent several civilians away with nausea. She could hear them exclaiming over the stench with their faces pulled into looks of disgust, both at the people who had thrown it (fondly, because it was ‘justified’, however bad it smelled) and at Sakura as she trudged by, her skin livid red and breaking into fever. The flesh of her arm, some of her neck, and flecks on her cheek would scar, if the agonizing pain sending her brain into a white fog was any indication.
Kakashi, walking ahead of her at a leisurely pace, was forced to remain impartial. She could understand him, of course, in that aspect. The village would turn on him, too, and then he would truly have nothing left. His team was disbanded, Naruto had devolved into a man on an impossible mission and false hopes, Sasuke had left the village and become Orochimaru’s apprentice and, afterwards, his killer, and Sakura, his final remaining student, had become his protege, his perfect copy—a friend killer, a ninja killer, just as he was.
Perhaps, Sakura thought as she fixed her gaze on Kakashi’s shoes, fate worked in very obvious, very deliberate ways, and was not as mysterious as anyone ever said it was.
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Sakura arrived at the Hokage tower dripping with steaming chicken broth, mold clinging to her clothes from various entrees of old food, and reeking of weeks old tea that was just on the verge of becoming kombucha. Shizune waited for them, her face harsh and pale and completely emotionless. If she had any opinion on her former friend’s crimes, she gave no indication of it, her mouth pulled into a straight, thin line, her lips as white as her face.
“They have already convened and arrived at a verdict.” Shizune’s dark eyes darted to Sakura momentarily, the pain there deep and unfathomable, and then back to Kakashi, flicking over the ANBU guards and the growing crowd rioting around the entrance of the building. “Her presence wasn’t necessary.”
Her. As if she was a thing to be spoken of, an object. Once that might have angered Sakura, might have forced her into an enraged spiel, but the only emotion she could muster up at the derogatory tone was faint irritation that was suffused by the harsh throb of the burns on her arm.
“Tsunade’s orders.” Kakashi shrugged. He glanced back at her, then at her burns, and sighed. “At least heal her. Those burns could get infected—”
“I am under order not to provide care to Sakura Haruno under any circumstances.” Shizune shifted uncomfortably at that. “As is the rest of the village. Basic necessities, and nothing more.”
Her former sensei said nothing else and Sakura refused to open her mouth and beg Shizune of all people to heal her. She should have been able to heal herself, yet she had not even a scrap of medical chakra to speak of and risked cutting off her own arm in the process. It would probably be preferable to the festering, infected blisters she would gain in the coming days—if she was even alive to experience it.
She suffered in her own silence, closing her eyes against the pinpricks of hot white light that threatened to send her into unconsciousness. It was easy to block out the pain when she was stuck in her head; her pain tolerance was high, but without the help of her seal, of Tsunade’s healing advice and her medical chakra, she was reduced to biting her lips to stop herself from squalling and collapsing onto the wooden floor beneath her feet. Blood flowed into her mouth, metallic and bitter, like the blood that flowed from her teammates’ veins.
Sakura didn’t know how long she stood there in a half daze, flanked by her ANBU and Shizune and Kakashi talking quietly in front of her in short, stilted sentences. Their opposing affections for her prevented them from talking casually; Kakashi’s guilt prevented him from hating her and Shizune’s righteous sense of justice prevented her from offering her even a shred of pity. They spoke in whispers, so she could barely make out what they were saying, but she could read lips as well as any ninja; mentions of war, famine, disease—which made no sense to her, for what could have happened in the span of five months?
“Shizune. Kakashi.” Tsunade’s descent down the staircase, assisted by the wooden handrail, was slow and awkward. She was a little too hunched over, favoring her right hip and leaning heavily on the wall to support herself. Her gaze darted to Sakura. “Sakura. You came here for nothing. The decision has been made. I’m sorry.”
Kakashi stilled to the point that she wondered if he was even breathing. “They’re going to execute her?”
“Execution… would be a mercy at this point.” Tsunade produced a scroll from her pocket. Shizune’s strangled gasp was loud enough that it caught the attention of the ANBU. It was a thin scroll, no bigger than an index finger, and lined with gold and red trim. Sakura had never seen such a scroll in all her life, but with the way Kakashi went pale and Tsunade looked so defeated, she had to wonder what fate could be so awful, so terrible that even her nonchalant, uncaring teacher would appear to be frightened and disgusted. “The orders are clear and the vote was unanimous. Sakura Haruno will be given to ANBU, given a rank within the War Operations party, and shipped to the frontlines by dawn tomorrow.”
Shizune inhaled sharply. “It’s a death sentence in its own right.”
“Sakura isn’t suited for war,” Kakashi advised, voice breaking slightly. “They couldn’t agree on anything else? Not even execution?”
Tsunade shook her head slowly, guiltily. “Execution was too clean for them. A prison sentence was a slap on the wrist. The people wanted blood—so they gave it to them. Let her spill it for the name of the village, for the people they lost, they said.”
“And what if she survives?” Sakura couldn’t ignore the thread of concern that wove through Shizune’s question. “What about after the war?”
Tsunade looked at Sakura, then, her mouth turned downwards into a deep frown. “Then she may be free; but she can never return to Konoha.”
Nothing else needed to be said. Tsunade passed the scroll to Kakashi and vanished back up the stairs to her office, Shizune following without a glance back. The ANBU removed the chakra cuffs on her wrists, and while it might have felt like a cooling sensation when it returned to her system, all she felt was pins and needles, her nodes brimming to life with malicious energy. She rubbed her wrists tenderly, avoiding the burns as much as she could, and felt Kakashi’s hand land on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.
“Come on.” He veered her towards the back exit, where the crowd wouldn’t be able to see her. “We’ll go to my apartment, fix you up, and grab some supplies. Then… Then we wait.”
Wait for her inevitable departure and then, most likely, her death, of which Kakashi would probably never hear about.
“Kakashi-sensei?” She croaked. She could feel tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, burning her lash line and a knot forming in her throat. “Can I ask you for a favor?”
He paused, hand reaching for the knob of the exit. “Of course, Sakura.”
“Take care of my parents for me, please.” Sakura blinked rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes, the pain in her arm dulled to a numb sensation. If she hadn’t lost all of the nerves in it, she would count it as a blessing, even if she deserved it. “Without me, I don’t think they…”
“Don’t worry.” Kakashi ruffled her hair with a playful hand. It wasn’t quite as effective as it had been when it was shorter, but she could feel the affection within it besides. “I’ll watch over them, Sakura, I promise you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and he pushed open the door, sunlight spearing through the crack and enveloping her in its oppressive warmth once more.
That night, if Kakashi had any complaints about Sakura sneaking into his room and hugging him tightly, sobs wracking her lithe frame for the first time in months, he didn’t say anything. If she noticed him hug her back, tears running delicate rivers down the striped pillowcase he laid his head on, she gave no indication, pouring her soul out for possibly the last time in the safety of the arms of someone she loved.
Dawn broke, and with it, so did the remnants of Kakashi’s heart.
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prologue | masterlist | 二 (ni)
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henrycavell · 4 years
Text
homecoming
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summary: Syverson has been medically discharged from the army after a suicide attempt. He’d been able to hide his deteriorating mental health for years from the men around him, but now he has to face it head on. Hopefully not alone. 
word count: 1,426
pairing: Syverson x OFC 
*I plan on intentionally not describing the girl much, so that when you’re reading you can think of her however you’d like to!
warnings: smut later on, there will be cursing and mentions of depression, anxiety, there will be suicide attempts and self harm though i am not sure how detailed i will go into that! if things get really detailed, i will make sure to put warnings on those specific chapters.
a/n: I am not looking for constructive criticism on this. It’s been a very long time since I’ve written any fan-fiction, though I’ve been roleplaying nonstop for the last few years, I feel a little nervous posting something that’s entirely just mine. So right now, I’m not looking for any criticism, suggestions, etc. <3 If you enjoy reading though, please like/reblog! 
Also, I’m adding everyone in a tag that replied to my text post about wanting to read my stories... so if you’d prefer to be removed, just let me know! If you’d like to be added, also let me know! <3 
Taglist: @littlefreya​ @mary-ann84​ @wondersofdreaming​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @geralt-of-baevia​ @asylummara​ @dearlybelovedluke​ @promptandpros​ @mansaaay​ @daddys-littlewhitegirl​ @vacant-writings​  @kaatelyyynn​(i’m sorry if i missed anyone, i only tagged anyone who replied to my text post!!) oh & @80scavill​ i’m tagging you because you said you wanted to proofread, but i am just so nervous that im just posting! bahaha
PART 1 | PART 2
Being medically discharged from the military wasn’t something Syverson wanted to talk about, he sure as hell didn’t want to go into detail. He’d barely been able to admit to himself that his depression and anxiety had become so overwhelming that he could barely function. When his men had started noticing, some questioning his well-being and if he was stable enough to be in his position, he thought that had been the most embarrassing thing. He’d been wrong. The most embarrassing and shameful thing had been his suicide attempt, which ultimately led to his discharge.
The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it, so he didn’t. It was bad enough that he had to think about it constantly. Every time he closed his eyes Sy was brought back to that moment. Blood all over his bunk, smeared along the wall and staining his sheets. As hard as he had tried to convince his peers and superiors that it wasn’t a suicide attempt and rather just an unfortunate mistake, they wouldn’t believe him. And after a full psych evaluation, all hope of saving his career had vanished. Shipped home before he could even argue.
His first few days home had been the hardest, the only little shimmer lighting up his life at the moment being Aika. Sy had been able to bring her home with him and the loyal companion hadn’t left his side for even a second. Seemingly knowing something was wrong with him. But even with his dog giving him all the love and affection she could muster, he still barely left his bed. Tangled up in the sheets, dozing off and on out of sleep except for the very few times that he forced himself up to use the bathroom. Sy hadn’t eaten in what he thought to be at least four days, except for nibbling on a saltine cracker here and there between forcing down some orange juice or shots of whiskey.
Syverson wasn’t proud of the way he was keeping himself, but he didn’t know what to do. He’d been working and serving his country since he graduated high school. Being home with nothing but free time on his hands and a heavy rain cloud hanging over his shoulders, the days were beginning to all blur together. He’d been particularly dreading this morning, however, because he knew the VA was sending over some help, someone to help make sure that he was getting along okay, to make sure he didn’t need anything.
Aika put her paws up on the bed and leaned her head in, grabbing the blanket with her teeth and ripping it off Syverson, pulling it all the way down into the floor. “Okay, okay, I get it, I’m getting up,” Sy groaned, running his hands down his face before pulling himself up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. A shower sounded nice, but before he could really think about whether he had the energy to or not, Syverson was already hearing a knock from downstairs. Craning his head around to look at the alarm clock by his bed, his face fell, realizing it was already well after noon. He thought he had more time...
ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ
Penelope wasn’t anything more than just a volunteer, a girl in her early twenties that liked to keep herself busy, so for the last few months on the weekends, she’d been donating her time to helping the VA. They’d send her to random retired or discharged veteran’s homes to help with their household chores, or to do their grocery shopping. Sometimes, a lot of them were just lonely and wanted someone to talk to. That was Penelope’s job, to just spend a few hours doing whatever they needed that was within her capability. This seemed to be a special case, though. It was different than all the others. Penelope hadn’t been given very much information on this person, other than their name and a very vague reason as to why they had been discharged. “Don’t ask about what happened,” she’d been warned, told to just leave it to be.
Tapping her knuckles against the door once more, Penelope peered in through the glass pane into the home, seeing that all the lights were off. Stepping back on the porch, Penelope looked out into the drive, seeing a rusted pickup truck and thinking to herself that Syverson had to be home. Just as she turned back around to knock a third time, her fist already raised in the air, she came face to face with the captain.
“Heard ya the first time,” he grunted, before turning in the door way and disappearing back down the hall. Penelope had only gotten a quick glance at him. His hair was short but was starting to grow out, his beard had looked a little unkempt and it seemed he had just rolled out of bed. Letting her hand drop back down by her waist, she froze on the porch, a little taken aback by his greeting. If she could call it that.
Stepping up into the home, Penelope closed the door behind her, just as a large german shepherd came running up to her. Aika panted, her tongue sticking out as she barked excitedly, nudging herself against Penelope’s legs as if telling her to follow the captain into the kitchen. If Aika could speak, she would have told the younger girl that it had been almost a month since the captain had spoken to anyone in person. “Hey there,” Penelope cooed, reaching down to scratch Aika behind her ears before tightening her grip on her purse and heading farther into the home.
“My names Penelope,” she called, just a second before stepping into the kitchen and seeing the man pouring himself a mug of coffee. There was a bit of sunlight coming through the kitchen window, brightening up the dim space just a touch. Most of the sun rays were washing over the man’s back as he fixed his coffee just the way he liked it. The veteran was large, his biceps reminding her of tree trunks, though he did seem to be getting a little soft around the edges. Penelope stood silent for a moment, waiting to see if she’d get anything from the man, but he remained silent, even when he turned around, bringing his mug up to his lips. Syverson didn’t even look at her, instead, snapping his fingers to get Aika to come to his side. His gaze was kept down, fixed on his dog. “I’ll be visiting every weekend, uhm, for as long as you’d like me to.”
“Didn’t want ya’ to begin with, don’t need no help.” The man still didn’t look up as he spoke, instead, his attention still focused on Aika, the dog seemingly being the only thing to bring him comfort.
Penelope was definitely caught off guard. She’d met some rude veterans during her time volunteering, and while this man’s words could’ve definitely been taken that way, Penelope could almost hear the loneliness in his voice. All she’d been told about him was that he’d been battling mental health issues, discharged because of depression, though she hadn’t been given anymore information than that. Letting her shoulders sag, she took a step further into the kitchen, moving towards the fridge as she looked around his kitchen. “I believe you, you look capable.” Penelope tried putting herself in his shoes, a strong man who had climbed through the ranks, spent his whole life serving his country, only to be forced home. To be told he wasn’t fit to serve anymore, that he needed help doing simple tasks. So she tried spinning the narrative as she opened the fridge, a frown making it’s way on to her face as she peered into the empty box. “Think of it as... I’m here to do the things you don’t want to. And it looks like someone doesn’t like grocery shopping,” she tried to tease, “I’ll make a list and-“
Syverson’s footsteps were heavy as he walked away, leaving the kitchen with his cup of coffee without one final word. Watching him disappear down the hall, Penelope heard heavy thuds on the stairs as he headed back up to his room. Letting the door on the fridge shut, Penelope muttered to herself under her breath, “okay...” It seemed like every weekend her job only became harder, she met veterans that were more and more reserved and closed off. But she had no intention of giving up just yet on Syverson.
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Text
Tagged by: @rhubarbdreams @cactusdragon517 @morallygreywaren and @ceraunos (I’m so sorry this took so long! Thank you for thinking of me, it is so flattering <3)
Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!
This was SO FUN. It was so nice to go through my old stories... I’m really proud of my writing. That’s something I never thought I’d say, and it’s something I’ve decided I’m going to do unabashedly from now on. <3 Happy almost April, everyone! 
Gaining Heart (Spartacus) 
The days following the defeat of Glaber had been a flurry of activity.
Agron found himself not only leading on field of battle, but leading organization and defensive strategy. Those fucking Romans had moved into the temple as if it was their own home, claiming all that they saw— but they had also brought much of their own. Food, wine, supplies— it was a gift from the fucking gods, and needed proper inventory.
Agron knew not how to do that. Nasir and Naevia were invaluable, cleaning each chamber of any evidence of battle, cataloguing lists and categorizing everything from barrels of grain to rolls of bandages.
Tangles and Roots (The Old Guard)
He was covering Andy.
The hangar was dark, shadowed by the last of the night while dawn crept up over the skyline outside. The plane was set to land any minute now, and Nicky’s eyes flicked from corner to corner, finger on the trigger of his gun and his jaw grinding hard. He could swear he saw shapes moving along the roof— the banks of high windows above them left eerie patches of weak blue light, flickering with little flashes of darkness.
It was probably just birds. He was out of practice— they had done nothing but sit around in the six months since Merrick, trying to heal the deep wounds left in their minds… and bodies, in Andy’s case.
Nicky swallowed, stepping that much closer to his friend’s side as they took their places in the shadows.
Still Awake? (The Old Guard)
He pretended to sleep. His eyes were closed, and his muscles were stiff, tying themselves into knots where he laid in his cot between Andy’s empty bedroll and Joe and Nicky’s snuggled up bodies. Booker refused to be comfortable— he refused to rest. The day had been rough, and the fighting had left a bone deep ache inside him, even while the physical wounds had healed.
All the Time in the World (The Old Guard) 
The first time Nicolo and Yusuf bathed together, it was by the river— he wasn’t sure which river. It had probably changed names and countries a hundred times by now. All he remembered was that, by the time they heard the steady rush of water and cleared the brush and trees to the bank, he was half mad with annoyance.
If that man made one more grumbled complaint— one more clearly telegraphed grimace— about the supposed smell of him, Nicoló might have to break their truce and run the bastard through.
Kissed by an Angel (The Old Guard)
Nicky felt his lips flicker into a private smile, setting the pot on the stove to simmer and turning to look out the window into the garden. Joe’s garden.
He was humming to himself— Nicky couldn’t quite hear it, but he could tell by the set of the other man’s jaw under his beard and the purse of his lips as he concentrated. The weeds wouldn’t rip themselves, the overgrown shrubs wouldn’t miraculously be already pruned and waiting for them.
They were finally back in Valletta. Finally home.
Patron Saint of Satisfaction (The Old Guard)
It had been a long, long few weeks.
Joe’s shoulders were tense and knotted, and his whole body still ached from the train ride he and Nicky had taken all that day. There was a stifling, choked sensation in his gut that would rise in waves, up his throat to the tip of his tongue until he was ready to scream. The whole way to their safehouse, he brushed shoulders with his lover— practically leaning on him— and let himself take refuge in the feeling of Nicky’s warm hand entwining their fingers.
Waking Dreams (The Old Guard)
At first, they could’ve been anywhere for all Joe knew.
There was nothing in the world but Nicky— his scent, his body, his quiet sleeping breaths. Joe felt himself hover on the edge of sleep and wakefulness, the familiar thrum of pleasure making up the backdrop of his thoughts.
He nuzzled into his Nico’s neck, pressing sloppy, half asleep kisses to the back of his neck.
Here There Be Monsters (The Old Guard) 
The morning had been blustery and hot. The scent of ozone made the sea air thick as it blew through his hair where they all stood, crowded around the lower deck. They all squinted against the bright sunshine, but Joe knew better than to trust the blue sky.
”If I’m getting in, I’ve gotta do it soon—“ he spoke up, cutting into some conversation that he hadn’t been listening to, “There’s a storm coming in from the East.”
Nile— still so young, so far from the American Midwest, and in her first field season— raised an eyebrow at him from behind her sunglasses.
He smiled at her bemused look, shooting his gaze over to Andy. Andy smirked, huffing a laugh. “If anybody knows, Joe knows.”
In Loving Memory (The Old Guard)
The wind whipped up off the water, cold and salty despite the way the sun beat down on them. It was alright, honestly— refreshing after all those stuffy hours in the car.
These immortals were highly resistant to normal modes of transport. Like a plane— a real passenger plane, not a Russian cargo plane full of drugs. It was all cars and boats and trains, low to the ground, literally under the radar.
Nile understood why. She didn’t want to end up strapped down to a lab table like the one they escaped all those months ago. She’d just rather take a nice plane from the closest airport to Provence and get to Valletta in a matter of hours, rather than drive through three countries and all the way down the Italian boot, just to bribe a fishing boat.
Feed My Soul (The Old Guard) 
Malta looked good on Nicolò.
Joe leaned on the railing of their balcony, looking down into their old, old walled garden where his Nico shuffled around in the herbs. He was looking for something particular, the bridge of his nose scrunching as he peered at the mess of overgrown pots.
Joe beamed, the familiar, all-encompassing warmth of loving that man filling him up and making him feel expansive and bright. There was a cathedral ceiling in his chest, airy and golden with the light of dawn through its tall, jeweled windows. There was a house of worship where his heart should be, and he traced the lines of the other man’s body like he was devoting a painting to him.
Sono Qui (The Old Guard)
Andy left Booker on the beach.
She felt his gaze follow her, but couldn’t bring herself to look back.
It wasn’t as if they had never separated before— as if the four of them had been constantly attached from the time they finally found the Frenchman, even after months and months of dreaming and searching. There were plenty of times where they spent months, or sometimes years apart. They took breaks from each other, they traveled. Just a year ago, Andy had declared that she needed a break— was that last year of being alone the thing that led Booker to betray them? Maybe they should’ve stayed together. She never should have left him. She understood how it felt to be alone in the world… to lose someone so precious that life loses its color.
Andy had left Booker plenty of times. It wasn’t something she liked to think about now, but she had… She had assumed he was handling it like her. Somber and drunk, wishing for some type of release. They’d talked about it enough times. But not like this.
Brother of My Heart  (The Old Guard)
Joe clenched his hands on the steering wheel, flexing his fingers to feel the stretch in the tendons, even though any injuries from the fighting had long since healed.
While driving away from the ruins of Merrick’s car, the adrenaline was still rushing in his veins, and all his self control was devoted to staying reasonably within the speed limit. The last thing they needed was to get stopped by some bobby cop while covered in blood and dust, with a bullet through Andy’s stomach.
Right now, they needed to blend in. So, Joe didn’t press the gas pedal into the floor.
Care and Feeding (The Old Guard) 
Nile couldn’t ever remember liking the cold.
Even at home in Chicago. Sure, her memories of warm Christmas masses, bright lights on the tree, and gently falling snow outside the kitchen window made her throat dry with that familiar, wistful grief. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to seeing pine trees or twinkle lights without thinking of her mom’s mac n cheese, or how early her brother would wake her up on Christmas morning.
But loving Christmas, and loving snow? Those were two completely different things.
Going Underground (Star Wars) 
Poe wasn’t sure what it was like when they broke through the atmosphere into Yavin IV. He didn’t watch through the Falcon’s wide front window as the familiar jungles passed by in a blur of green underneath them, and he couldn’t pick out the roof of home from the surrounding grasses as they came in for a landing.
The first thing he saw as he came to, bleary and aching, was Finn. They’d fallen asleep right where they were, pressed shoulder to shoulder at the holochess table, Poe’s head on Finn’s shoulder. It took him a sluggish moment to recall why his hand had its own throbbing pulse, and why Finn’s soft, dark skin was pockmarked with strange cuts, glistening with bacta.
The second thing he saw, swallowing against the rush of memories filling his fuzzy mind, must have been a hallucination.
STAR WARS VIII: The Battle of the Force (Star Wars) 
“General, I don’t know how much longer we can hold ‘em off—”
Poe’s voice crackled from the shoddy reception, nearly engulfed by the constant bombardment in the background.
“Commander, the Resistance depends on taking down this dreadnought.” Leia kept her voice steady and strong “Stand your ground.”
Beyond What We Can See (Star Wars) 
If he was being honest with himself, he supposed that he’d been feeling the Force his whole life. He’d always just brushed it off as basic intuition— he thought everybody felt this way. It wasn’t until he started seeing the way the Force was treated in the First Order—as a myth, a fearful, distant thing—that he realized how much he needed to keep his head down. Even though he only felt it in small ways, he was different. He buried the feelings, tried to ignore the nagging dread that said that he didn’t belong there in his platoon. That none of them did.
But that wasn’t something he was allowed to feel. The Force wasn’t supposed to be something any of the troops knew firsthand.
Like She Always Did (Star Wars) 
The first time she left was barely a memory. More of a dream. He didn’t remember the fight they had, but he knew in hindsight that they must’ve had it for much longer than the tail end that he saw. Maybe it was what got his little feet out of bed in the first place. Daddy’s eyes were rimmed with red and Mama was pacing out her anger into the sitting room rug. Poe’s eyes were wide as he watched from the threshold to the hall, his little hand gripping onto the pillow that he’d tugged along with him from his room.
Love Will Help You Heal (Star Wars) 
Every inch of him throbbed, the last dregs of whatever the interrogation droid had injected him with still pumping through his bloodstream. He was so tired. How long had it even been? Getting captured on Jakku felt like a hazy dream, as if it was weeks ago.
No one was coming for him. He knew that much—he’d probably be mad if they endangered the resources to try—but he couldn’t help but wish anyway. Death seemed so close, like a cold hand on his shoulder, by his side in the recirculated air of the Star Destroyer.
He wished they’d just hurry up. His drug-addled, sleep deprived mind didn’t know if he was asking for rescue or death. Maybe they were the same thing now.
Dying a martyr. At least it suited the image—Poe Dameron, Poster Boy of the Resistance.
Ghosts of Future and Past (MCU/Captain America) 
His head was throbbing. His back ached. Everything in him pulsed with agony like he’d been hit by a train.
A train. Bucky.
“Bucky is alive.” 
He could feel the winter cold at the memory, his eyes snapping open as the past few moments came flooding back to him.
There had been another Steve. Even without the mask, he’d looked just like him. It must have been Loki playing tricks again, it had to be.
Sweet as Honey, Gold Like the Sun (Stranger Things) 
Steve was drifting after high school graduation. He drifted right out of the halls of Hawkins High and into a desk job at his dad’s office. If he was being honest, he’d been drifting since the Gate closed— maybe even since Nancy broke it off.
He wasn’t mad. She was his best friend. He and Jonathan were even friends now. No, he hadn’t been mad for a long time— but he was lost. The kids were going to high school. Dustin would be getting his license one of these days, and Steve’s last function to his little gaggle of brats would become all but useless.
The idea of not serving a purpose left the bitter tang of anxiety in his throat. Once the kids didn’t need him— and Joyce and Hopper and even Nancy— Steve would be left behind. Again.
Okay... Some of these may have been more than just what is considered “Opening Lines”, but I can’t just leave something feeling unfinished, and I’m a little tipsy, which means I am bending the rules <3
**EDIT** i forgot to look for patterns and pick my favorite! I mean, I think all storytelling/creative expression (anything from developing a recipe to composing a painting to writing a story) follows a distinct formula. And the best way to establish the story is by starting it with the most important element front and center— I almost always start with my main character. A thought or a feeling, a situation or a sensation. They’re the focal point from which everything ripples out. Those first ripples (the 2nd, 3rd or 4th lines) are usually about building the setting. It’s an equation that works so well for me, and though I sometimes shake it up by adding immediate dialogue or flipping the positions of setting and main character, it has served me well ❤️ i think my favorite has to be Brother of My Heart. It’s the first really, immediately big story Ive ever had. So many comments, so much warmth, so many kind people— it grew my confidence and helped me make friends. It reminds me of how truly wonderful fandom can be, even just with the first few lines.
I’m going to continue to bend the rules by not tagging anyone immediately-- it’s giving me weird anxiety levels, so I’m gonna wait and do it later maybe. If, in the meantime, you see this and want to do it, write me down as the one who tagged you! <3 Feel frrrreeeeeeee! 
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bubbabobabubbles · 3 years
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pt.2 of my ac x bnha crossover
uhh i really don't know how to do links that'll be fun to figure out
your hair is going to be split dyed (naturally) and the right side is going to be a pristine silver the other side you pick if you cant pick black goes well for what I have planned soo have fun!
it was near the middle of the day when one of the trouble makers came to class, more specifically our golden-eyed girl. she and her counterpart had already been briefed about what was going down and what they needed to do. now that day was the day the duo was supposed to come back to school, and it was a matter of time when they were supposed to come back. they had their mutual friend nagisa shiota fill them in on what the tentacle monster could do so she wasn't surprised to see two students get called to the front with blades in their hands. the first words she ever comes from a teacher were,
"try to strike me with those knives."
now if nothing piqued her interest that defiantly did the trick. who wants a knife to the head? she watched from a higher-up place as the other students murmured and their eyes widened in confusion. seeing as they were hesitating she jumped down from her spot and stole one from someone else's hand and rushed at the man with a murderous glint in her eyes and swung.
slash
swing
swish
the students were confused by the girl pinned on the ground, she got pretty close to karasuma and she hadn’t been in the class before. who was she? why was she here? and why in the HELL was she trying to stab their teacher? they all stared in bewilderment until karasuma's voice broke them out of their stupor, "I'm assuming you're [redacted] (y/n)? where's akabane karma, I heard you two are always together." with his almost monotone voice it seemed like more of a statement than a question.
"he was still sleeping and I was getting bored. I'm also assuming you're not the ugly octopus we have to kill? or are you and you just look like that so you're not disgusted with your own looks, ugly ass mother fu-" the girl gets interrupted by seeing a head of blue hair, "hi nagisa! is this the octopus or is he an actual human?" the girl was giving a bright smile, with her face still being held on the ground, but still smiling nonetheless. the class however was shocked, how did this sweetheart of a human being know this vulgar girl?
"no that's karasuma. i thought I showed you pictures?" the golden-eyed beauty (cause you're beautiful) finally escaped the grown man's chokehold and responded, "I mean yeah, you did. i was probably sleeping through. you and karma have long enough conversations as it is, it was probably the day i moved into his house." another look of mild shock came across the class. just who is this girl? well, it seems that she picked up on the confused looks she was getting and finally introduced herself, “oh hey everyone. please call me (y/n) happy to meet you.” the class looked at her and deadpanned. why was she so cheerful for class?
“the only reason even got close is because no one could sense you.” the girl that was finally upright looked at the teacher with a raised eyebrow and stated with a small smug smirk, “you could sense me i know it. i was just faster than you.” the teacher just stayed quiet, knowing it was true. ignoring the amazed looks coming from her peers she walked up to the blond female she stole the green blade from in the first place and handed it back to her with a wink, "this is yours, thanks for letting me borrow it." a light flushed look came to nakamura and started stuttering. with a laugh (y/n) motioned for karasuma to resume his teaching.
everyone was still standing outside while karasuma was talking and finishing his lesson, everyone was quiet standing to listening to him. what people had not noticed yet was the student standing on top of the hill with strawberry milk in his hand just chilling and watching from afar, waiting for a certain someone to notice him. as those two certain people turned around one had the reaction he expecting while the other didn't look like he knew what he should do to do.
"KARMAAAAAAA"
"hey there angel." the demon-like male chuckled to himself as the girl attached herself to his front after sprinting up the hill they were on and he supported her with one hand since he had his strawberry milk in the other, "you seem happy this morning what's up." she just smiled like a child, "karasuma is a good teacher I like him!" this made karmas interest peak. (y/n) was like him, neither of them liked teachers, both of them have wanted to kill teachers in the past. what was so good about this one? "oh really?" as the two conversed oblivious to the curious looks the rest of the class were giving them.
"yo nagisa, how are you doing? it's been a while" the sudden foreign voice interrupted their thoughts, "karma... you came back." this made karma give a close-eyed smile which sent shivers up the blue-haired boy's spine, especially since (y/n) had a small one to match.
karma walked down the hill with the girl still situated around his front with his hands holding her thighs and her hands around his neck to hold herself up. "so this is the infamous korosensei? i didn't expect nagisa to be completely right about that part, you really do look like an octopus!" he let the girl's thighs go in favor of setting her down, which she let him do.
in exchange, she gave a small grin and hid her hands behind her back. karma nodded to her and they walked up to their teacher in a sweet manner, thinking they were going to introduce themselves korosensei started to talk, "you're _____ (y/n) and akabane karma correct? i heard both of your suspensions were finished today. BUT i don't think that's an excuse for both of you to be late, and (y/n) you didn't need to attack a teacher the first time you show up here and come back." the yellow octopus' face turned purple with an 'X' in the middle. karma gave a soft and short chuckle.
"sorry it's hard to get back into things you know? feel free to use my first name, the same thing with (y/n). we both think it's less formal." he then held his hand out to shake, "it was nice to meet you, sensei!" something that korosensei didn't realize was that there was something on the student's hands, and another student slipping away. "likewise! let's make this a good and fun year."
as korosensei reached a tentacle to shake karma's hand, as soon as they made contact the tentacle gave a loud 'POP'.
"nyuu!"
karma slid an anti-korosenei knife into his hand from his sleeve, siding it around fast enough to give a fast swipe to their teacher's abdomen. not noticing (y/n) behind him, she had the same substance along her arms down to his hands, so jumping on the alien and getting into contact with about 4 tentacles making them explode as well. The knife she had acquired a couple of minutes prior was sitting comfortably in her hand, managing to cut another tentacle off with a slightly crazed grin resting on her features. the teacher finally had enough time to jump back, looking down at his arm with no emotion clear on his face.
"huh. these really do work against you and you're pretty fast. we tried cutting them into small pieces to stick to ourselves," he gestured to the back of (y/n)'s thigh and showed their hands, "but y'know i really didn't think you'd fall for a trick as simple as this. i mean as an assassin yourself you'd have to be an idiot." it was (y/n)'s turn to finally talk, "adding onto that you jumped back pretty far! aren't you a bit too frightened by some junior high kids?"
"we've heard that you had people call you "korosensei" because it means unkillable, but..."
"are you really that easy of a mark?"
'don't go anywhere, korosensei. we'll show you what it's like to be killed.'
as the duo kept lightly taunting the alien teacher kadae looked over at nagisa who seemed to know the two, "nagisa, it hasn't been long that I've been here and joined class-e so I don't know them. what sort of people are they?" with kadae asking the question a couple of the other student's tuned in so they could listen in as well.
"well for both of them, we were all in the same class for two years, i know that karma and (y/n) have been friends for years before that though. when we were in our second year, both of them were suspended for committing acts of violence repeatedly, even though whenever (y/n) fought she was always provoked first but none of the teachers believed her and since she's usually on edge it's not easy to sneak up on her to do anything. those are the things that landed them in e-calss" when they looked back at the two walking towards their general direction they just stared. "but with the situation we're in, they're probably going to be at the top of the class."
others looked at the light-haired boy in mild confusion, kadae finally asked, "what do you mean?" for a second nagisa took a breath looking at the two flipping the rubber blades around, "if you're looking for people that are proficient in weapons, sneak attacks, and foul play. you can bet those two are some of the best, and they'll probably excel. (y/n)'s really good at hand-to-hand combat too."
once the students got into the classroom and got situated, korosensei gave out a quiz, they were supposed to finish this within a certain time limit but the yellow man had been punching the wall with his tentacles making a squishing sound that started to annoy everyone there.
"what is korosensei been doing?"
"he's doing wall punches isn't he?
"yeah, karma and (y/n)'s comment's probably got to him. he's probably mad."
"his tentacles are too soft to do any damage, though."
okano seemed like she finally had enough of it and looked up from her desk with a scowl on her face, "that's it! enough with the squishing sound! we're taking a quiz here!" korosensei turned and nodded his head with vigor. "p-pardon me!"
in the back of the class terasaka and his buddies looked towards (y/n) on karmas lap, "why does she do that?" the red head looked at the girl in his lap and looked back up again, "we're very close and she's tired cant you see?" her breathing was even and her eyes were closed, no one even noticed she got up from her seat to go and sleep in karmas arms.
the three males shrugged and asked loudly, "so anyways, karma. you sure about this? the monster's pissed." yoshia looked back at the couple and spoke up next, "and we're sure as hell not getting involved." muramatsu then gave his two cents to the situation, "sure you two wouldn't rather be secluded at home again?"
karma gave a quiet chuckle as to not wake the sleeping girl in his arms, "if you were about to be killed, f course you would be angry." at that moment (y/n) decided to stir and say something about the situation, "it's a bit different to just having someone fail miserably and pissing himself instead."
terasaka being the prick he is this early in the show yelled at the newly awaken girl and red-headed boy, "wha- i didn't piss myself! are you two looking for a fight?!" karma being well... him, didn't lose his temper and kept quiet while (y/n) stuck her tongue out and pulled down her bottom eyelid. korosensei heard the last comments and decided to speak up, "hey, you guys over there! don't make a ruckus during the test!"
'tell that to your tentacles.'
"sorry korosensei but (y/n) and I have already finished," he pulled out a singular ice cream cone filled with strawberry icecream, "so we're just going to sit here now and I'm gonna eat my gelato." korosensei still looked angry, "not in class you won't!" korosensei paused between his words, "tha-that's my gelato i bought from Italy yesterday!"
'it's yours?'
karma looked up with a fake gasp while taking a small bit on his tongue, "oh it's yours? i just found it chilling in the staff room." he handed it off to the sleepy girl to hold who took it with care, taking a small bite surprising some of the people in the class, cause who bites their ice cream man?
"it was such a pain to fly through the freezing stratosphere to keep it from melting!" karma gave a smile while (y/n) just looked up at their teacher and took another bite making the other people in the room grimace, besides karma.
"is that so? well whatcha gonna do about it then?" she took another bite, "hit me?"
kororsensei's face turned red with anger. "I will not! I'll just take what's left of it." he began to walk(?) (glide??) over to retrieve the frozen treat until, "come on now, hand it ov-" a popping sound was heard from down below. korosensei had a look of shock cross his eyes, seeing one of his tentacles was gone for the second time that day, around him on the ground were red BB pellets.
karma and (y/n) had taken out their guns and began to shoot at him, (y/n) being slightly faster had shot one off with a white BB, while the others kept missing since the yellow octopus began doing with a cold sweat beginning to drip of his head.
"gotcha again sensei!" karma laughed while (y/n) gave a small grin, korosensei gave a groan in disapproval. the two troublemaking kids had walked up to their teacher the shorter of the two in front. their classmate's eyes were wide at the scene happening before them.
"we'll use these tricks however many times this takes. neither of us really care if it disrupts the class." (y/n) was the one who spoke up this time, "if you don't like this," she pressed her gun to his chest, "then you can kill us, along with our families."
karma walked in the front now opening his mouth to say something, "but from that moment on," he 'stabbed' korosensei with the remaining gelato (y/n) had put back into his hand prior, "no one will ever view you as a teacher. they'll all view you as just some murderous monster." karma took a step back, letting the gelato go, leaving a red stain on his robes.
"we'll be the one's to have killed your existence as a teacher"
"here's our tests by the way, the answers are probably all correct." (y/n) handed the papers to their teacher. "bye sensei! let's play again tomorrow too!" karma turned back to give a quick wave (y/n) doing the same with a small grin on her face, "we'll see everyone tomorrow as well!" as they were walking out he slung an arm around her shoulder and walked out.
'they've always been quick-witted.' nagisa thought to himself as korosensei wiped off the gelato with a sigh. 'those two have always been the same though...recognizing there's a line korosensei can't cross if he wants to continue being a teacher.' his teacher looked down at the wipe with the red looking like something else, 'karma's are going to use some cheap tactic to irritate our teacher. but they'll probably end up using (y/n)'s intelligence which can see others true intentions and his skills at handling others, no matter the type to clash with people.'
"they both seem like smart student's but, just as karma said," he held up thier papers karma's showing a 100 and (y/n) showing a 97, "if i want to remain a teacher I'm not allowed to kill or hurt them." he flew faster after putting the papers away. "so how am i going to deal with both of them?"
it was finally the end of the day, "see ya, nagisa!" said boy raised his hand in reply, "yup! see you tomorrow!"
"hey, look it's nagisa!" some kid came up behind him, continuing with his conversation with his friend, "he must feel right at home down in e-class." his dumbass friend replied, "what a lame guy. he'll never make it out of there unless he shapes up." the conversation just kept going, nagisa's eyes shining with self-doubt. "plus, i heard that (y/n) and karmas suspension is over now, i heard they're both in e-class too!" when will they shut up? "that's the pits! i would rather die than wind up there!"
glass shattering could be heard from both sides of the males, "really? you'd rather die?" a familiar voice rang through nagisa's ears. "how about right now then?" the other voice that normally accompanied it spoke. a small screech escaped the chubbier ones mouth, "akabane! ______!" they ran away not living up to their words with obvious fear reaching across their faces.
karma and (y/n) threw their glass bottles behind them, "ha like we'd actually do it."
'who'd want another suspension after discovering such a nice plaything?'
the duo walked over to their friend with steady steps, "karma, (y/n)..." nagisa started but the red headed male interrupted, "so nagisa, there's something we wanted to ask you." the trio walked through the scanners, scanning their passes as they went through. "we see that you've got a few notes on our teacher and that you know a few things about korosensei." nagisa paused for a second to think about his response. "uh, yeah. kind of."
"does he really get mad if you call him octopus?" (y/n) interfeared.
"an octopus?" he thought back to a paper that was graded, "uhm no i think it's the opposite. i mean he always draws himself as an octopus, and he always picks the octopus in video games. and when he was digging around in the sandbox..." 'octopus pot'
nagisa sweatdropped at the memory. "so if he's making jokes like that, i'd say that the octopus thing is kind of like a trademark, a one-line gag." karma laughed to himself, "i'd just thought of a silly idea." nagisa looked at (y/n) noticing she was being quiet and not being surprised when she was getting talked to by some blond kid, "what are you up to now, karma?" still not looking back he responded, "I'm just happy." the teen finally turned around, "i was just thinking about what i'd do if he was just some monster, but it's turning out to be he's an actual teacher."
the train passed behind the boy making it darker and his golden eyes stand out, a sadistic smile coming across his face. "so i finally get to kill an actual teacher." this is something no one has seen in a while, "i mean, the last one died went and died on his own accord." nagisa gave a small gasp but kept his emotions to himself.
(y/n) had finally finished her conversation with the blond guy that was honestly horrible at flirting by telling him that she had a boyfriend. after he backed off and apologized, she found out his name was kaminari denki and that he went to U.A. that's where her older sister went. they did end up trading socials after having a really fun conversation and agreed they could be friends.
after that, she went back to her friends as they got onto the train and they went home for the day.
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No Show - A Thread: Part One
Summary: Rachel has been a no show for a while and Toulouse shows up at her door to find out what’s going down. She tells him her story, and why she’s been hauled up inside for a week. It’s kinda sad but also it’s cute and we’re not sorry. Reply order: Rachel, Toulouse (blockquotes).
Featuring: Rachel and @beaumont-ague , Mom (Arianna) and Dad (Fredrick). Also guest appearance from Dad’s Moustache.
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of panic attacks, flashbacks, references to past trauma as with the drabble.
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It wasn’t like Rachel to choose not to go to her classes. She hadn’t missed a single day (except for three days where she was overcome with an unfortunate flu and forced to stay in her bed) since enrollment, and by every intention she wouldn’t miss another. College had been a grand milestone in her life, after finding her freedom and spending her first two years in an intense schooling program to bring her up to the standard (or as close to) of her peers. It hadn’t been easy, given what they were working with, but she worked her butt off and was finally allowed to enrol in Redwood College when she received her high school diploma. Rachel loved learning, so much so that, after finding enough courage, she would sneak into the back of lecture halls she wasn’t enrolled for just so she could learn as much as humanly possible.
So, for Rachel to be missing from class for a day, two days, a week was strange.
She hadn’t told anyone she wouldn’t be there. It hadn’t been planned, but she had lost so much sleep lately that she slept in for her morning lecture, and then couldn’t face showing up late in the afternoon. It spiralled from there, and now here she was, cooped up in her bedroom a week later wishing she wasn’t. Artist Block she would say, all the while painting away at the mural on her bedroom wall.
It was Rachel’s father, Frederick, who answered the door. He was an imposing figure, moustached for the gods and flaunting a raised brow at the young man who had knocked looking for his daughter.
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Toulouse didn’t really pay attention to who he saw and who he didn’t see around campus on a daily basis. Actually, he never really paid all that much attention to anything on campus, let alone people. He was always in his own world, rushing to classes or trying to get inspiration for a new piece. However, one person that he knew for sure he hadn’t seen in a few days was Rachel. At first, it hadn’t dawned on him that he didn’t see her for a few days. What gave it away, was the fact that he’d delivered his latest gift to her for their gift exchange, he hadn’t received one back. Even if they’d only known each other a short period of time, it just didn’t seem to be in character for her to up and quit. At least not without an explanation.
Of course, that wasn’t why he was worried or upset. He didn’t mind that she hadn’t given him a gift. In fact, he did feel slightly guilty for enjoying that he was currently winning. The lack of gifts in their exchange had simply alerted him to the fact that he hadn’t seen her recently, prompting him to ask around. Rachel was fairly popular. Of course she was, he thought to himself as he’d gotten plenty of answers when asking for her around campus. Toulouse had managed to get her address, and fortunately someone was nice enough to tip him off that her parents could be sort of… strict. How strict, he hadn’t known, but he thought it better to make a decent impression than show up in his sweatshirt and joggers that he’d been wearing to class. Substituting them for a polo with some slacks and loafers was a much better choice. 
It wasn’t that he didn’t take pride in his appearance, he really did. But, it was to be expected of a college kid to just want to get through class, and really, he didn’t have that many people to impress. Throwing on a watch and trying to comb his unruly mess of hair before leaving, Toulouse made sure to bring his phone and one of his rings, which he often used as a fidget toy. He didn’t suspect he’d need it, but it wouldn’t hurt to have it along. When he’d arrived at Rachel’s address -at least, he hoped it was the correct address- he was met by a rather tall man with an even more intimidating mustache. This was where his proper etiquette would come in handy. 
“Hi Sir,” he greeted the man politely with confidence. “My name is Toulouse Beaumont, I go to school with your daughter. Some of us were worried when we realized we hadn’t seen her around the campus in a few days, and were hoping to see that she was alright. I also had some assignments to drop off for her, if that’s alright?” Holding out a small stack of papers, only the top was a legitimate assignment. The rest were ones he’d made up, copying previous lesson plans he’d seen or received. Of course, no one else would know that without a very close inspection. “One we’re supposed to work on together, actually,” he added quickly after, to strengthen the chance he might get to actually see Rachel. Her father could very easily just take the papers and ask him to leave, which he had prepared for, though he was optimistic. 
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Frederick could hardly help himself from vetting everyone that came within a ten mile radius of Rachel and their home, and had no intention of being any less intimidating when Toulouse introduced himself politely, or explained the reason for his visit. “Rachel is doing perfectly fine,” he answered, offering no further explanation to her current plight. It was none of this young man’s business, after all. “I’ll pass the a--” Frederick was soon interrupted.
Rachel’s mom had been in the sitting room reading, but emerged behind her husband shortly after Toulouse introduced himself. Arianna was a touch more savvy than her husband (though not any less protective) and knew that it was important for Rachel to still see her friends. She recognised his name after Rachel had come home from the festival gushing about paper flowers and cupcakes. Arianna didn’t have to say much to Frederick -a cough and a lifted brow was enough- before he stepped out of the doorframe begrudgingly.
“Rachel’s in her room,” Arianna offered, gesturing to the foot of the stairs. It was important to her that Rachel was treated like everyone else, and if that meant letting her friends in to see her, then so be it. The young man didn’t seem like he would hurt a fly anyway and Arianna was sure her daughter wouldn’t want to miss out on too much work. “You can head up, but knock on her door first. If she doesn’t answer, I’ll pass the assignment on for you.”
Rachel was still occupied by her painting, huddled under a quilt on the floor like she was turning into a human tent. She wasn’t sure how long she had been trying to mix this very specific shade of coral, but she had every intention of keeping at it, humming and singing and mumbling to herself to pass the time and fill the silence.
Had she any inkling that Toulouse might appear, she would have made herself look slightly more presentable, maybe even tidying up her paints and forty other hobbies and projects she had been occupying her hands (and her mind with) over the week.
—————————————————————————————————
Toulouse was never that great at talking to older men, and he knew the exact reason why, but he didn’t feel the need to disclose that at the moment. Fathers and father figures just weren’t a comfortable subject for him. Mothers, on the other hand, were different. He knew how to win over the heart of a mother figure. If it weren’t for Rachel’s mother sitting in the other room, he was sure that he would have to go back to his dorm and try to figure out a different way to speak to Rachel. Thank god for that, as she quickly stepped in to allow him into their home. 
With a grateful smile, Toulouse gave her a wave. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I promise I won’t overstay my welcome.” If Rachel didn’t want company, he’d leave willingly. Still, it didn’t hurt to try, right? He mainly was just glad to hear that she was alright. Toulouse hadn’t completely lied when he said there was something that the both of them were meant to work on. It just wasn’t an official assignment. Rather, something to cheer her up. That was of course, permitted that she wanted to be seen. 
Taking the stairs up to the second floor, Toulouse took a guess at where Rachel’s room would be, and was just about to knock when he heard soft humming on the other side. Definitely her room, then, he thought to himself. His hand had been raised, ready to knock, though it slowly lowered as he listened to her sing more. She sounded nice, better than most people who casually sang to themselves. It may have been a selfish move, but rather than announce his presence, he stayed for a moment and just enjoyed her singing, eventually joining in subconsciously as he leaned up against the wall. 
—————————————————————————————————
Arianna offered Toulouse a sweet smile, all the while side-eyeing her husband who had puffed up his chest and was acting a little miffed. She would have a gentle word with him later, but for now they would leave Toulouse to it. Rachel’s room wasn’t terribly hard to locate, as she had started painting her door with some pretty flowers (fully intending on moving on to every door in the house when she had the time for it). 
Rachel continued to sing, none the wiser to the listening ear at her door. She liked to sing, finding it a pleasant way to fill silence. She sang in the studio sometimes, and she sang in the shower, and when she was making breakfast. It was a comfortable past-time. Of course, she didn’t always have an audience (a visible one anyway) and so the faint voice from the hallway, matching her song, caught her off guard. Dad didn’t sing (and the voice wasn’t deep enough to be Dad’s if he did). After a short continuation, to make sure she wasn’t going completely loopy and making up harmonies in her head, Rachel’s singing fizzled out.
There was a brief panic that her parents had left the house, and someone had broken into her house. (That had happened before, it wasn’t a wild conclusion to draw.) With her quilt still draped over her shoulders, Rachel grabbed the first thing at hand (thankfully not a frying pan) and crept toward her bedroom door, opening it just enough that she could see who was standing on the other side and close it swiftly if she had to.
It was a surprise (a pleasant one) to find Toulouse leaning on the wall outside her room, a stack of papers in hand (and an equally pleasant look on his face.)
Oh no. Oh no, the room is a mess! My hair is a mess! I’m holding a weapon! He’s gonna think I’m a weirdo!!!
There was no time to fix anything, so all she could do was stare dumbfounded from behind her door frame. “Hi…” Rachel managed, throwing on the closest thing she could find to a cheery smile. Should she bring up the singing thing? It was kinda cute… No, no that would be peak weirdo, he obviously didn’t know she could hear him, right..? She went for the safe option. Or rather, the obvious question that anyone who wasn’t totally freaking out right now would ask. “Uh… Come here often?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right one. 
—————————————————————————————————
Toulouse wasn’t sure how long he would wait before knocking on the door. He was preoccupied listening to her sing, which was probably weird, in hindsight, but he’d deal with those consequences later. Sure enough, later came quickly, and Rachel was opening the door faster than Toulouse expected her too. Maybe he was singing a bit louder than he thought, since it seemed a little too coincidental that she would be leaving her room at that moment. 
He made no comments about her appearance, or the fact that she was only looking at him through a crack in her bedroom door. “No, actually. Not yet, at least,” Toulouse responded to her question with a chuckle. “Actually, I’m sort of surprised I made it this far. Remind me to thank your mom later.” Clearly Rachel wasn’t expecting company, and he could understand why. Anyone who knocked on the door would have likely been greeted by Mr. Moustachio, potentially with a scripted list of questions before being turned away. He wasn’t rude, just... stern, from the impression Toulouse gathered. 
It was at that moment that his eyes lowered a bit to an object that Rachel was holding in her hand. Pointing to it hesitantly, Toulouse furrowed his brows before asking, “Is that… is that a lamp?” The amount of effort it took for him to keep a straight face was almost painstaking, a smile creeping onto his face as he tried not to laugh. He sort of understood, afterall, given that he’d just been standing outside her room with no warning. “Maybe we ought to plug that in, yeah? It’d be a bit hard to read these in the dark.” He gestured to the papers in his hand. 
Mentioning the assignments was mainly so that in case her father was listening to their conversation downstairs, his story would ring true. While he didn’t want to invite himself into Rachel’s room, as that was sort of a private matter, the suggestion of plugging in the lamp and going over the papers implied that it might be easier to do so somewhere other than the hallway. 
—————————————————————————————————
Rachel was kicking herself for her awkwardness, though Toulouse seemed to take her stupid question in his stride. It had hardly occurred to her that Toulouse would have knocked the front door, and that Dad would have answered it. He meant well, Rachel knew, but she wished he was less stubborn sometimes. “Oh, you made it past Dad,” she laughed apologetically. “Sorry about him, he’s kind of… He means well.”
Rachel grimaced, glancing down at the lamp in hand. What on earth was she thinking? That a lamp could save her butt? She floundered for a reasonable explanation as to why she brought a lamp with her to greet a guest at the door. “... Yes… Yes, this is a lamp. I was just-- It needed… dusting...” Yeah, that could work. She was going to dust it! The reality was Rachel was jumpy, but there was no chance she was going to explain that right now.
Wildly embarrassed at sporting the lamp, but deciding hiding behind the door was only making it worse, Rachel opened the door just enough to invite Toulouse in, still hiding behind the door itself. Now that she knew she wouldn’t have to use the lamp on him, it seemed silly to leave him standing out in the hallway. “Sorry,” Rachel laughed quietly. “Uh, you can come in just-- Ignore the mess?”
By Rachel standards, the room was a bombsite but it wasn’t nearly as messy as she thought it was. Everything had a place, and she tidied every morning when she woke up to make sure nothing was amiss. There were paints and a few sketchbooks dotted around the floor that she had been using, and a half eaten plate of cookies on her dresser as well as a few odds and ends not in their proper home. (Notably, the paper flowers Toulouse had given her at the Hootenanny had a special place on the centre of her bookcase, inside a tiny vase, and the other gifts from their competition were set out neatly on her desk by the window.) By any other standards, her room was perfectly fine but she scurried to place the lamp back where it belonged and then set about moving a few things to make the place seem more presentable.
—————————————————————————————————
This was probably the first time that Toulouse got to see Rachel’s awkward side. It was a nice change of pace, really, though he wouldn’t dare say that out loud. No, he would keep that to himself for his own enjoyment. “I can tell. It’s alright, seriously. I’d probably be a little weary too about some strange kid showing up at my doorstep.” Giving a shrug, he looked back at her with a playful grin. 
Did he believe the lie? Of course not. Did he pretend to? Yes, yes he did. “Makes sense. I usually forget to dust my lamps, but you know, too much dust could be a fire hazard. Good on you for being proactive.” Toulouse was grateful for the invitation inside, slipping past the door. Truthfully, he was pretty curious to see what her room was like. Toulouse always thought that a person’s bedroom was another outward expression of themselves, and to be invited into one was a rather intimate matter in a different way than most people would associate it. He liked his space, and only if he fully trusted someone would he ever let them into his room back home. At school, it was slightly different, but still, he liked to control who was and was not allowed to see certain things.
Immediately, he started to look around, not at the so-called mess that Rachel tried to get him to ignore, but all of the things that made this Rachel’s room. Besides, it was hardly messy at all. He noticed the paper flowers that he had gotten her, which made him smile, perhaps even more than seeing all of their little knick knacks from their gift exchange going on. Then, he noticed that Rachel was fussing about, trying to clean and organize what she likely saw as the mess she’d left behind, not thinking anyone would be over. “You don’t have to do all of that. Trust me, my room is five times messier than this when I’m home for longer than the weekend. I’ve seen far worse,” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood before bringing up the serious topic. “Sorry I didn’t say anything before showing up. But, since you never returned the gift I gave you last time, I just had to come find out your excuse.” 
His words were light, and playful, and much better at bringing up the subject of Rachel’s absence than flat out asking her why she hadn’t been at school recently. It must have been a good reason, considering it wasn’t like her to skip, from what he knew about her, and the fact that she looked hesitant and possibly even scared to open her door. 
—————————————————————————————————
It seemed her Father was weary of anyone that showed up at the door looking for Rachel, whether they were rough and tumble or not, but she couldn’t blame him for it, given circumstances. Of course, Toulouse didn’t know the circumstances. Maybe if none of this had happened Toulouse could have waltzed right in. “I did tell him about you, a little, but there’s not much convincing him everyone is fine.”
She glanced at the lamp, giving it a quick dust (partly to prove the lie, mostly because Toulouse was totally right and she didn’t want the curtains catching fire.) “Yeah, it’s always the last thing to get cleaned, I guess.“ Despite the insistence that she didn’t have to tidy up, Rachel continued to do so anyway, putting things back where they were supposed to be, with the exception of the paints that she intended on using to work on her mural after Toulouse left again. If anything, it was nerves. Something to keep herself occupied with that didn’t involve any anxious tugging at her hair (her tell). Usually she was better practiced in hiding all of her messy feelings, except for those who knew her, but she wasn’t having much luck today. “At least let me clear you a seat,” Rachel insisted, lifting a few cushions to give them a good fluff before she plopped them down at the bottom of her bed. She didn’t have guests over very often, and her desk chair wasn’t the most comfortable. Cass always sat on her bed when she visited, so it didn’t seem strange to think Toulouse could do the same.
Rachel gasped with the realisation that, in cooping herself up, she had forgotten all about Toulouse’s gift. So much so that she hadn’t even thought about making it yet. Immediately, she jumped to the conclusion that he must think she was a terrible friend for not keeping the exchange going and then saying nothing to him all week. That was textbook bad friend, right? “Oh no! I-- Sorry! I forgot all about it and I haven’t made it yet but I promise I’ll return it by, like, Tuesday.”
(Toulouse, well-intentioned though he was, had picked a bad week to visit.)
“It’s just that it’s been kind of a weird week and I got… artist’s block and stuff and it went totally out of my head.”
—————————————————————————————————
It came as a bit of a shock to hear Rachel admit that she told her parents about him. Surely that was normal though, wasn’t it? To talk about your friends to your parents? Toulouse never really understood those parents who had known their children's friends for years and yet still couldn’t be bothered to remember their names. He hoped that if he were ever to become one that he wouldn’t be one of those. “Maybe he’ll warm up in time,” the blond shrugged. Not that Toulouse was planning on coming over every day, as that was a bit excessive to think about now, but still he’d hoped to spend more time with Rachel in the future, thus meaning eventually they’d probably come round each other’s homes more often. His mother would definitely be more than willing to have her over. 
Something was definitely wrong. Over the years, Toulouse had been able to pick up on habits that people tended to develop under stress or trauma, and this was giving him flashbacks. Clearly Rachel was bothered by something, and though he wanted to be there to listen to it, he also didn’t want to force her to talk about something she didn’t want to. Clearing them spaces to sit was fair enough, so he didn’t object. Before sitting down, Toulouse took his shoes off so as to not get anything dirty. 
Unfortunately for Toulouse, Rachel must have been too focused in her manic cleaning spree and overthinking that she didn’t understand he’d meant to go about it in a light hearted way. That wasn’t what he cared about, really, but he wanted Rachel to open up on her own terms. “Hey, hey, it’s fine, Rachel, really.” Anything he said however was going in one ear and out the other as Rachel continued to ramble. Finally, Toulouse just reached forward and grabbed her hands, squeezing them to get her attention. “It’s fine. I’m not worried about the gift, or how long it takes, really. Don’t fuss over it. I’ll survive another week, I’m sure,” he smiled softly, shaking his head to reassure her that he didn’t need it right there and then. 
Letting her hands go, Toulouse put them by his sides as he scooted further back onto the bed. “Everyone gets artists’ block now and then, no need to stress about it. I just meant that you haven’t been around, recently. Is everything ok?”
—————————————————————————————————
"I hope so," Rachel replied casually, truly hoping her Dad would relax a little more around any of her friends. He seemed to like Cass well enough, but Rachel guessed that was mostly because of her job. She didn't invite many other friends over, but that was mostly because she preferred spending as little time indoors as she could. Still, it would have been nice if Dad's moustache didn't turn upside down whenever he was greeted with a new guest.
Rachel was trying very hard to remain as chill as possible, and keep the freaking out to a bare minimum. Usually she was better at hiding her worry than this, or she thought so at least (but there was a lot to unpack with that, which was another thing Rachel didn't need to completely spiral over). Her smile was still genuine, thankful for the company that Toulouse offered, but it didn't quite hit her eyes in the usual sunny way. 
It felt a little like she was walking in circles, moving things here and there that didn't need to be moved and she would have kept at it had Toulouse not taken her hands, catching her off guard and stopping her in her tracks. Rachel had jumped to so many conclusions in a minute that now she felt all kinds of silly for worrying over nothing. The squeeze of their hands was just enough to halt that worry. "Are you sure..?" Rachel asked quietly, just to be totally one hundred percent sure that he wasn't actually upset about the gift thing.
It was an instinct to twist the ends of a lock of hair when he let go, rapping it absently around her fingers as she sighed onto the free space on the bed. She didn't think anyone would notice her absence enough to wonder where she was, let alone come to check up on her. Rachel hesitated too long to reasonably answer yes to Toulouse's concern. Artist block wouldn't cut it. Would a proper explanation do any better though? Rachel wasn't sure what she could even say without the risk of Toulouse freaking out too.
"I've been worse?" Rachel admitted finally, a grimace masked by a bashful laugh. "It's… hard to explain. I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone, I'll be honest. I just… I mean, I wanted to go to class but I just couldn't, I guess. I don't know." 
—————————————————————————————————
As someone who was used to having his own difficulties with anxiety, Toulouse understood that Rachel was probably just acting on those impulses, which was why he didn’t try harder to stop her from running about and cleaning. Sometimes you just had to get it out of your system, and he understood that. Control what you could, and confront what you couldn’t. Only, it was the confronting part that he was worried about for her. Had she even taken the time to sit down and process why she had been missing classes? He didn’t know the reason himself, but he hoped that she did, and would understand why that was.
Grateful that catching her hands seemed to calm her down at least a little bit, he nodded casually with a smile. “Absolutely. Besides, you know you never even had to get me one in the first place. I haven’t been expecting any of the ones you’ve given so far. Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d give up one day, ‘cause that’d mean that I won,” he teased, laughing as she sat down on the bed.
Anything was hard to explain when it came with emotional baggage. Toulouse was sure that he could handle it, though, after years of practice. “Try me. I bet you I’ve heard stranger stories.” When she mentioned not assuming anyone would notice she was gone, however, Toulouse took that a bit personally. He didn’t show it of course, but the personal offence was only because he really didn’t think Rachel was being as kind to herself as she could be. “How could someone not? I mean, you’re probably one of the most outgoing people who go to that school. It’d be stupid for no one to notice.”
Laying down on his side, Toulouse propped himself up onto his elbow, his gaze softening as he looked to her to continue speaking. He wanted to know as much as she would tell him, but didn’t push too far. “That’s understandable, I mean sometimes we all need a break to deal with emotional things. Do you think talking about it might help? I’m a great listener, if I do say so myself,” he humbly bragged, trying to get her to smile. 
“Or, if you’d prefer, I can ask you questions completely unrelated to any of that, and try to take your mind off of it? I have the perfect one to start,” Toulouse assured. “For example…” His facial expression suddenly got quite serious, leaning in slightly toward her as if to tell her some sort of precious secret. “How long did it take your dad to grow that moustache?” He couldn’t even keep a straight face as he nearly burst into laughter, shaking his head. “But really, I have to know! It’s quite impressive.”
—————————————————————————————————
Glad that Toulouse wasn’t fussed about the gift, Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. It was one less thing to worry about. That being said, there was no way she was not going to give him a gift at some point just because she was feeling down. It was a competition, after all. Rachel wasn’t a quitter. “Sorry, you haven’t won yet. This is just a momentary interlude.”
“Trust me, you really haven’t…” Rachel insisted through an awkward laugh, running her fingers through her hair. She would be willing to put a bet on it, actually. If it wasn’t her own story, she would have thought the whole kidnapped as a baby, raised by a fake ‘Mother’ in isolation for nineteen years, then rescued by some dude who eventually abandoned you and became your art teacher four years later all while coming out relatively unscathed thing was totally made up. Truthfully, it had been suggested to Rachel that she didn’t bring it up as flippantly as she had done when she was first introduced to the outside world and now she wasn’t really sure if she should bring it up ever. She said nothing to the fact that people might actually notice if she was gone, shrugging it off to avoid arguing another case against herself.
“I’m not sure if I should,” Rachel admitted meekly. It might not do any harm, or it could tarnish Flynn’s newfound reputation. Rachel held her breath when Toulouse leaned in like he was about to tell her a secret, and snorted a laugh when his question came. It was a totally unexpected one. “He does have a very impressive moustache, doesn’t he?” Rachel nodded, relaxing just enough to keep laughing. “He’s had it as long as I’ve known him. I think he even had the moustache on his wedding day.”
A distraction would have been welcome, but it also could have been part of the problem. Everything previously scattered around her room had been a distraction, as was the current patch of wet paint on the wall, and the five batches of cookies she had baked for everyone at the precinct, and everything else she had done until she couldn’t take it any longer. Rachel desperately wanted the distraction Toulouse was bringing in making her laugh -Cass would have insisted she face the problem head on instead- but if Toulouse had any intention of sticking around, it made sense that he would have to know what was going on.
Rachel hesitated for a moment, looking rather serious as she looked for any sign that Toulouse would nope on out of the conversation the moment he realised just how much baggage she was about to unload on him. He seemed trustworthy enough, but that kind of thinking had gotten her burned before. “Can I trust you?” she asked. It seemed the simplest way of knowing. She didn’t think he would lie. “I mean, I probably should actually tell you some things if we’re going to be friends and all that but if I tell you, you have to promise not to freak out.”
—————————————————————————————————
Toulouse had to admit by now that he was curious. What could be so mind boggling that Rachel seemed to think he would find her crazy. He had his own fucked up past, sure, and knew very well that most people did. For whatever reason that just didn’t seem to fit Rachel’s personality. For someone so nice to have such dark secrets… it was both scary and intriguing. “Hey, I understand. Trust me, I won’t take it personally if you don’t want to. I wouldn’t want to make you talk about it.” 
Hearing Rachel laugh was possible one of the best sounds he’d ever heard. The worrying after not seeing her for a week or so had been dialed down once he made it past her front step, but making her laugh made it worth the concern. “Do you think it takes a lot of effort to keep it looking so nice? I mean, one could only imagine,” he continued, chuckling to himself as they joked around. The joking didn’t last forever though, and by the expression change on Rachel’s face, he wondered if she was going to start opening up more. 
Had Rachel not looked so serious, Toulouse might have answered somewhat sarcastically. But with Rachel, his sarcasm meter was usually lower anyway. So instead, he gave her a reassuring nod. “Of course. I trust you, so I hope you would be able to trust me. Here, give me your pinky.” Toulouse shifted closer to her, sitting upright on the bed with his own pinky extended. “Have you ever heard of a pinky promise? They can never be broken, so that means they’re extra special,” he explained with a smile.
Toulouse took his pinky promises very seriously. Hopefully Rachel would too, since this was the best way that he could think of to ensure she trusted him. “You should never make a pinky promise if you plan on going back on your word. So, I’m going to pinky promise to you, that whatever you tell me, anything at all, whether it be that you have an evil twin, or like… you hate coffee or something ridiculous,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Whatever it is, I pinky promise I won’t freak out, and that you can trust me with anything.” 
—————————————————————————————————
“Don’t tell him I told you, but he spends ages in the bathroom preening it.” A sincere smile swept Rachel’s features as she looped Toulouse’s pinky around her own. Rachel never broke a promise. She liked having a signifier of trust here. “Thank you,” she replied gently and could only hope he meant it.
Rachel took a deep breath; it was mostly to steady herself, but it was also a preparation for the long, rambling story she was about to tell. She supposed the best way to go about telling the story was to just let it all out in one fell swoop. The quicker it was out, the quicker it was done and the quicker Rachel could shrug it all off like none of this was really that big of a deal. 
“Okay, so,” she began, pushing her hair back from her face. Just rip the bandaid off. “I’m a-- I was a Milk Carton Kid. I was kidnapped when I was a baby, and raised by a woman who I thought was my mother. She homeschooled me, sort of, and said that there were people out there-- out here-- that would want to hurt me, or steal me. That I had to stay inside the house, with her, so she could protect me.”
Rachel took a pause, glancing carefully at Toulouse. Any sign of a freak out and she would end her story there. It had been the easy part for Rachel to tell, but it also happened to be the part of the story that made most people uncomfortable. Still, Toulouse promised not to freak out, and Rachel was going to hold him to it. She went on but her stomach was starting to turn itself in knots again, and the fingers through her hair found a lock to tug at.
“‘Mother’ was the only person I knew for my whole life, and she never let me-- I never-- I thought everything outside of my home was dangerous and scary, and that the ruffians and thugs would probably get me. I had thought about asking her to take me to see the lights for my birthday a few times, but something always came up so we never did… Um, but anyway, one day when ‘Mother’ was gone someone broke into our house, not realising I was in there, and I obviously totally freaked out and hit him with my frying pan because I’d never seen a grown man before.” 
(At this, Rachel hoped Toulouse had forgotten about the lamp.) 
“When he woke back up… I asked him to take me with him. I wanted to see the lights on my birthday, and he agreed to take me there and bring me back in one piece.”
Here, Rachel hesitated. She had lost so much sleep in the past few weeks over the next part of the story that she could feel the knots tightening, and her eyes starting to sting at the corners. That would surely be enough for Toulouse to process for a moment while she swallowed the horrible feeling.
—————————————————————————————————
When Rachel started to tell her story, Toulouse used all of his focus to make sure he was giving her his undivided attention. He could tell as soon as she started that it was a very emotional story. What he didn’t expect however was just how traumatizing it was going to be. Not wanting to be disrespectful by interrupting, Toulouse let her get everything out, hoping it would help her from stopping and creating awkward silences. Watching her body language, it was obvious that the topic was uncomfortable to talk about. For that, he commended her greatly. 
As soon as she did pause, Toulouse jumped into the conversation so that she wouldn’t feel embarrassed. He had promised not to freak out, and though all of this was pretty freak out worthy, he wasn’t going to break his promise. “Wow… so you’ve only really been home for a few years? That’s… well, I couldn’t even imagine.” For Toulouse, his family meant everything. To think that Rachel was raised from such a young age to find out that her mother was just some deranged lady who’d kidnapped her? He wouldn’t have known how he’d react. No wonder she was having so many emotions the past week. Not to mention she’d robbed Rachel of things like basic human knowledge. To have never seen a grown man before sounded almost impossible. 
“So… you saw them, then? And what happened after that? I mean, obviously you found your parents eventually.” Toulouse could see she was hesitant to continue. Pausing for a moment, he shifted his positioning on the bed to get more comfortable and turned to her. “You don’t have to keep going, if you don’t want to. It’s just- I know what it’s like. To you know, go through something pretty traumatic.” He didn’t want to unload all of his trauma on her, especially not when this was supposed to be a safe time and place for her to tell him what was on her mind. Rachel deserved to tell her story with no judgement and no diversions. 
—————————————————————————————————
“Four years this month,” Rachel admitted quietly, a strange melancholy lingering in her chest. It felt like much longer, and somehow like no time had passed at all. Until recently, Rachel thought she had been doing just fine settling in. She had been doing just fine. No one had counted on her past bumping into her on the streets. Rachel didn’t expect Toulouse to understand what any of this had been like. Hell, she hardly expected him to believe her at all, what with how outlandish it must have sounded. But he hadn’t ran yet, and he hadn’t freaked out, like he promised. For that Rachel was thankful. So for all it was uncomfortable, she thought it was best to continue and leave nothing up to speculation.
“I did see the lights...” she replied, watching Toulouse carefully as he shifted on the bed. For the most part, Rachel had kept herself rather close, a knee pulled up to her chest, a comforting arm around it. There was an ever present twisting of her hair. She took another pause from her story to offer Toulouse a genuine, heartfelt smile, finding some sort of comfort in his reassurance. “Thank you, Toulouse…”
Determined not to hesitate again, Rachel buried her discomfort and went on. “It gets kind of complicated after that. Or more complicated, I guess. After we saw the lights, Fl-- the man was supposed to take me home, but he didn’t. He, uh… He brought me here, to Redwood Hollow instead. He left me at the Police Station without an explanation and I thought I would never see him again.”
“I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know who I was, didn’t know I was missing. My birthday wasn’t even my real birthday. And suddenly they were asking all these questions, trying to get me to prove that I was this missing kid and before I knew it I was meeting my real parents and testifying against ‘Mother’ in court even though I barely knew what she had done wrong. Then they realised that I knew literally nothing, and I had to go on this schooling program just so I could maybe go to college one day…”
Of course, this explained a few things, but she didn’t think it explained why she had been skipping class, and at that thought the tears sprung from her eyes. “Sorry… This is definitely not what you signed up for.”
—————————————————————————————————
Four years. Four years! Toulouse couldn’t even imagine being away from home for one let alone four. Then again, Rachel hadn’t even known that the home she was living in wasn’t home. She hadn’t suspected anything at all until that day, and even then, she had no clue what was going on. Toulouse’s head was spinning as she told the story, it getting wilder and more complicated as she told it. Honestly, he wasn’t shocked that she remembered it all, but he was surprised that she was willing to tell it. 
“Wait, so if you really had no idea that you weren’t with your actual mother until this man showed up, did he recognize you? You know… after he regained consciousness,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, it’s good and all that you weren’t hurt, but that part is sort of suspicious that he would just agree to take you somewhere. Especially since he broke into the house not knowing you were there.” 
It was definitely a lot to unpack. Toulouse had a hard time imagining Rachel trying to process it all back then, especially since it must have been one hell of a shock. “I mean, I signed up to listen, didn’t I?” He reassured her. After a moment, he shook his head though. “Damn… I mean, I just can’t imagine what that must have felt like.” Running a hand through his hair, Toulouse sighed, looking back at Rachel. “I’m guessing there’s more, though, right? I mean, if that was all the past, what’s been happening now?” 
Before she could even respond, Toulouse held up a hand. “Wait,” he hesitated, laying down on the bed on his side and motioning for her to do the same. “Might as well get comfortable, right? Okay, I’m ready.”
—————
All Rachel could do at the question was shrug. By all accounts, it didn’t make any sense, but it had been advised that Rachel didn’t dwell too long on Flynn’s true intentions. “I guess he must have recognised me or something,” she replied, pulling some hair away from her neck to show a small, dark mark behind her left ear. “I have a birthmark shaped like a sun behind my ear, and I look a lot like my Mom when she was a teenager. He probably heard about the reward and when he realised who I was… It was a lucky fluke.”
A nod of her head followed when Toulouse asked if there was more. They were up-to-date and now the whole reason she hadn’t been in class was looming. All that other stuff had been easy in comparison to admitting that things weren’t going so great now. 
Rachel froze with her mouth drooped open, paused before the answer could find her tongue. Her eyebrow raised as Toulouse held up his hand and he proceeded to lie down, and she almost assumed he was preparing for a nap at how boring he was finding her story. But then he went and made her laugh quietly despite her nerves and in spite of her tears. She didn’t move immediately, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist, and then with a sigh she lay down on her side, propping herself on her elbow to mirror him.
“I thought I was actually doing okay until, like, a week ago…” Rachel admitted through a sniffle.
She had to think of the best way to word this part of the story. Obviously Toulouse would know who Mr Rider was, and the last thing she wanted was for any of this to taint his opinion of him. For all he had hurt her, for all she was now convinced he hadn’t cared about her at all, Rachel still thought there was good in him, and that he deserved to be treated as fairly as anyone else. With a defeated huff, she plopped down onto the bed to stare at the ceiling, half-way painted with the beginnings of a new mural.
“So, you know the man that found me? I haven’t seen him since he left me at the station four years ago. And then just before the Hootenanny I bumped into him on the street and it was like-- I don’t know, it was like nothing had happened, and obviously I was kinda surprised but I thought that was the end of it until he, like, showed up at college.” Rachel took a moment to steady herself, in between speaking a mile a minute and crying more than she wanted to. When slightly less frantic, she glanced at Toulouse out of the corner of her eye. “You know Mr Rider, the new art teacher..? That’s him. He didn’t even say anything and I’ve just been pretending we never met because I thought I would be fine, ‘cause he seemed fine. And Cass was like oh you should tell the school and get a new teacher, it’s bad for you to talk to him and I was like no, it’s fine, I’ll be fine, nothing’s gonna happen! And now… Tada! I wanted to go to school, I really did, but I just-- I couldn’t get past the driveway.”
—————————————————————————————————
Toulouse could see there was a look of confusion on Rachel’s face when he asked her to wait a second. For a moment he wanted to apologize and reassure her it wasn’t a bad thing, but she seemed to come around quick enough. He could tell that she was a little emotional about all of this, but didn’t comment on it as he didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. She didn’t have to hide the fact that she was upset around him, but he did feel bad that this had impacted her so greatly. “So what happened a week ago then?”
Watching her carefully as she fell on the bed, Toulouse wondered what she was thinking about. He took the opportunity to follow her gaze to the start of a beautiful painting. Smiling to himself, he turned back to give her his attention, and just in time, it seemed. When he heard the name of the man Rachel had been talking about, Toulouse nearly sprung up out of the bed. But, he had promised to keep it together, thus the most he gave in response was a wide eyed stare. “No… no way. You’re serious?” Mr. Rider had seemed cool enough, Toulouse thought, though he always got along better with his female teachers. Of course, he hadn’t really put in the effort to get to know him, but now he kind of felt like he did. At least, a part of him. 
“Wait, so Mr. Rider broke into your house? And then was still allowed to teach? How does that make any sense?” That was probably the most confusing part about all of this. Toulouse was raised with the knowledge that there were people in the world who committed crimes, but those crimes had always been followed with a consequence. Then there was the conflicting opinion of Cass, who he didn’t really know, but he had to admit they had a point. Clearly it wasn’t good for her mental health to be seeing him this soon. Not out of the blue, anyway. 
“No one is going to think less of you because you missed school, Rachel. It’s okay to take that time that you need.” Rachel was still at a very vulnerable part of her life. Toulouse recognized that, and wanted to make sure she knew that it was okay. But also, he just really wanted to give her a hug. Debating it over in his head, he finally said fuck it, why not? and decided to offer one. Nudging her gently, Toulouse motioned for her to come closer, holding his arms open. “You look like you need one,” he offered, rather meekly. 
—————————————————————————————————
Rachel waited for the penny to drop, for Toulouse to lose his mind over the ordeal. Continuing the absent twist of her hair, she could see out the corner of her eye the look of total disbelief written across his face. “Mmhm. Deadly serious.”
In Rachel’s head, the whole breaking-and-entering thing was a total non-issue. She had learned enough of Flynn’s history to know why he had been breaking into her house in the first place, and by the time they were off to see the lights that detail was all but forgiven and forgotten. Cass freaked out about it because she was a police officer, so of course that made sense, but at this point Rachel couldn’t see what the big deal was about a previous thief teaching an art class. (Her judgement was quite clearly skewed in the wrong direction, it seemed.)
“Everyone gets really hung up on that part…” Rachel muttered incredulously, already having logiced her away around the dissonance of being terrified of ruffians and thugs and completely sympathising with one. She was blissfully unaware that he had done jail time for his crimes too.  “I don’t know, I guess he was just going through a rough patch a few years ago? I mean, it was petty theft. It’s not like he killed anyone.”
Rachel sniffled a few more times, and though she wasn’t totally okay, she managed to pull herself together just enough to stop sobbing. “I know…” she replied quietly. “It’s just that-- I don’t know… It’s a whole mess.” She would have lay there moping for a few more minutes had it not been for the nudge from Toulouse, which took her by surprise. With his arms open, she hesitated (Rachel never asked for hugs no matter how badly she wanted or needed one). “I do kinda need one,” Rachel admitted finally, giving a thankful smile before she scooted close enough for a good old hug. “Thanks…”
—————————————————————————————————
Toulouse could tell that she was dismissive about it. Though he didn’t want to pick an argument by trying to explain that any crime was still a crime, he also worried about her judgement of character. Deciding that wasn’t the focus of the conversation, he let it go. Obviously the college would have looked into it, right? So it was probably fine. At least, he was going to say it was for now. “Yeah.. you’re probably right, it’s probably nothing…” Even if it was just nothing, Toulouse wanted more information. For now, getting to lay down with Rachel and just comfort her would be enough. 
“You don’t have to thank me,” he hummed, giving her a comforting squeeze. Besides, a good cuddle was always the best kind of thanks, really. Of course he couldn’t say that out loud —at least not yet. Toulouse didn’t break away from the hug just yet, wanting to enjoy the moment a bit longer. “But I mean… if you really want to thank me, I’d take a look at the papers I brought you. Some of them are boring school work, but a majority are fun. I made some up, and some are just fun things to do when you get bored of just sitting at home,” he explained, letting her go from the hug with a playful smile. 
“I don’t know if there was more I need to hear about, but if you want, we can take a break,” he offered. Rachel seemed to be pretty drained emotionally, and he didn’t want to push her further. “Can I ask you a silly question, though? Had you really never seen a man before? I mean, that’s pretty crazy,” he said with a chuckle. “Most of them aren’t that exciting, though, so you didn't miss much.” 
—————————————————————————————————
Rachel hoped it was nothing; she couldn't take any more curveballs at this rate. (Admittedly though, if one good thing came of this, it was that Toulouse threw a soft curveball by showing up, like a weird, cuddly saving grace.)
Just as apologising had become a force of habit, it seemed thanking people for tiny things was right up there beside it, and she had to actively think about not saying sorry for saying thank you. Her curiosity piqued at the mention of the things Toulouse has brought, pulling back just far enough to give him a flash of her raised eyebrow. She had all but forgotten he had something in his hands, you know, because she was so preoccupied with the lamp and all… "What's in the papers?" she asked, wondering if some of it was missed homework and what on earth he could have made up.
“A break would be nice. I think that’s everything…” Rachel sighed, a strange feeling of relief finally hitting her. A faint blush crept its way across Rachel’s cheeks as she nodded in admission. She wished she had been making it up, but Rachel hadn’t even laid eyes on the Postman. The house had been surrounded by a great deal of trees and high hedges, and a wall that was supposed to be unscalable. The Postman left letters in a postbox outside the garden gate, and Rachel had been forbidden from collecting any mail until the late afternoon, when he was long gone. “I wish I was kidding,” she laughed bashfully. “I mean, I’d seen men in, like, pictures in books and sometimes on TV and stuff, but never in person. I think everyone is a little bit exciting, but I don’t exactly have much to draw from.”
—————————————————————————————————
“Some missed assignments, nothing too major. Plus you have an extension to do them. I had to ask around a bit, but everything should be there,” Toulouse explained. “The ones that are made up were just in case your dad tried to take them.” Chuckling slightly, he shook his head, turning to look at her. He was glad that Rachel agreed to take a break, though he knew that sometimes when people got into slumps like this, taking a break only made them feel worse. Fortunately Toulouse was always good at making them fun. “Some of the activities are things like watching a bad movie on purpose, baking, trying a new skill, helping Toulouse with an art project, you know, just fun stuff.” 
That last activity he’d slipped in there purposely, hoping that it would peak her interest. He wanted to collaborate with her on something, if she was willing. Of course he hoped she was, otherwise he wouldn’t have put it in there, but that meant he would once again have to get past her father. Unless he came at a time the man wasn’t home; her mother seemed much more accepting of strangers into their home. 
Toulouse couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the idea of never having seen the opposite sex in person. “What about when you went to the doctor? Grocery shopping? A taxi? Surely you had to have at some point,” he further investigated. Rachel made a fair point, he supposed. There were plenty of things that each person had that might have been exciting, but as far as men go, Toulouse wasn’t very impressed. “Do you think I’m exciting?” he teased, his lips quirking into a half smile as he waited for her to answer. The feeling was mutual, if her answer was yes. Toulouse found her very exciting. Just then, the sound of the doorknob turning caught his attention as he directed his gaze toward Rachel’s door. 
—————————————————————————————————
“You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” Rachel replied quickly, hoping that her absence hadn’t been too much of a burden on her friend. She was quite sincerely touched by the gesture and the effort, but the last thing she wanted was for anyone to go out of their way for her, friend or not. “I promise my Dad isn’t that scary once you get to know him,” she insisted, though she couldn’t completely understand why Toulouse might think he would take the papers away.
“Those definitely sound like you made them up,” she laughed quietly. Fun, yes! Not real assignments? Definitely. Luckily for Toulouse, Rachel was as naive as the day was long; his not-so-subtle hints, that would have been obvious wink-wink, nudge-nudges to everyone else, went right over poor Rachel’s head and she took the bait without even realising it. “An art project?” she asked, thoroughly interested.
It occurred to Rachel that Toulouse probably didn’t realise the extent of I Never Left. She genuinely hadn’t seen another human being because she genuinely hadn’t been allowed to leave the gates of the house. “Nope. I didn’t get to go to any of those places. I… couldn’t leave.” Now, for some reason, Rachel was blushing furiously. Her only ideas as to why was being embarrassed about the not leaving thing. It obviously had nothing to do with Toulouse asking if she thought he was exciting. “I might,” she replied, trying to play it cool. She didn’t have time to offer further explanation before her bedroom door opened.
Dad’s moustache peeked around the door, the rest of his head following quickly after. He looked just as gruff as when he had answered the door, his brow pulling together when it was apparent the pair were sitting far too close for comfort on the bed. Rachel paid it no mind, and threw on her usual sunny smile (hiding the fact she had been crying moments prior).
“Your mom said I should bring you snacks…”
—————————————————————————————————
End of part one.
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knchins · 4 years
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The 16th Year - Hitoshi Shinsou
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Summary: Your quirk was destined to awaken on your sixteenth birthday, and it would force you to take to sea-life with your birth parents. No one with your quirk had wanted to stay on land before, but none of them had been so in love at age 15…
Pairing: Histoshi Shinou x Fem!Reader
Rating: G
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Light fluff, some angst, teenage heartbreak
Notes: Hello! This is the first thing I’ve written for the bnha fandom so I hope you enjoy it. I wrote this for the @bnhabookclub​ Mermay event! This is loosely based off of the old Disney Channel movie “The Thirteenth Year”. A throwback to fellow 90s babies. Special thanks to @hawksward​ for reading of this for me. <3
She had always accepted him and his dream. The first day they met, when he mentioned that he wanted to attend UA and be in the heroes course, she didn’t laugh. She didn’t sneer and tell him that his quirk was only suited for villainy. Instead of scoffing and looking down at him, she brightly smiled up at him. To her, his dream was perfectly reasonable. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a hero, in fact in her opinion there was quite a romantic ideal to it. 
Their chemistry was profound and none of their peers had anything that came close to their magnetism. She had told him that she was quirkless, when the truth was that her quirk was not bound to awaken until midnight of her sixteenth birthday. Currently she had two weeks to tell him the truth. It was a heavier weight than any young teenager should have to bear. 
They were in the same class at UA, she had opted to follow him there as she knew her time with him was limited. They had known one another since they were eleven and even then she always knew that her clock was ticking down with each passing second. She dreamed of a way to be rid of her fate, to stay with him and see his ambitions come to fruition, but alas there was no cure for her. In fourteen days she would be a merperson and would have to swim into the arms of the others that were bound to the sea. 
She was already exhibiting subtle signs of her quirk. It was little things that she kept under wraps, hoping no one would notice. And in truth, no one did except her adoptive parents...and her best friend. 
Shinsou had not brought up her strange behavior. How she was incredibly thirsty all the time, how her skin suddenly seemed drier than usual, or how fast she had become in the water. Weekends spent at the community pool where the two of them liked to relax suddenly made him feel as though she were a fish out of water. He didn’t know how right he was. 
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” He asked one night as they sat at their favorite sushi restaurant. Y/N sat stiffly in her seat, chopsticks in midair. How did she tell him? How could she knowingly break his heart like that? 
She forced a smile but the sadness shone in her eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you.” She confessed, placing her utensils down. “I’m not quirkless.” 
He cocked his head to the side curiously. She had never shown any signs of having a special ability, so the notion that she had been lying the past four (almost five) years seemed a bit ridiculous. Still, he decided to bite. “Alright, what is your quirk then?” 
Y/N had never worried about Shinsou using his ability on her. He never had and he told her a long time ago that he never would. She trusted him with all of her heart so any time he asked her a question she simply answered. Other people that knew them thought this was wildly dangerous, especially as they got older. What if he took advantage of her? But Shinsou would never do such a thing. He wasn’t a villain, not in a million years. 
“Remember how I told you I was adopted?” She probed, thinking perhaps it was best to start from the beginning. The purple haired boy simply nodded in response. “My parents, they live in the ocean with a colony of other aquatic people….they can’t live on land.” 
A deep frown formed on his features. What did that have to do with her exactly? He wondered to himself. Obviously she could live on land. Still, he said nothing as he waited for her to continue. 
“People with my quirk, don’t manifest it until their sixteen.” She continued. “They’re bodies undergo a transformation. Their legs fuse and turn into a tailfin. We become ningyo on our sixteenth birthdays.” 
Hitoshi continued to stare unblinking. He could typically tell when she wasn’t being series and he waited for a tell to show him that she was totally joking. After a few minutes, when her sad expression did not change, he realized that she was telling the truth. His chest became uncomfortably tight, as if someone dropped a hundred pound weight onto it. The air left his lungs, his tired eyes widening in shock. She was going to leave him? The one person who seemed to support him most? The one person who always uplifted him and encouraged him and cheered for him...gone?
The hurt expression that crossed his usually stoic face broke her. She thought she had prepared herself for this, but in reality she hadn’t. The impending destruction of their relationship was all the more real now that he knew of it. She was certain that neither of them would ever fully recover from this. 
“You’re leaving me?” He asked, his voice a whisper that didn’t dare to show any kind of true emotion. The apathy did not match with the words. The disconnect only told her that he was beyond angry with her for never telling him about this. Suddenly, the horrifying thought of having ruined their relationship before her birthday dawned on her and she nearly began to cry right on the spot. 
“Not because I want to.” She spoke softly, hand darting out to grab his across the table. “Hitoshi, you know I would never leave you if I had a choice. I care about you more than I care about myself.” 
The tears fell freely down her face as she was unable to hold them back. “I love you, you know? I don’t think you understand how much it hurts knowing that we can never actually be together. We’ll always be a world apart.” 
He wanted to recoil from her touch, but the sight of her crying caused his anger to recede back into the back of his head. She had never admitted her feelings to him, and while he knew he had been wildly in love with her for years he also had never been able to bring himself to confess it. He was always worried that he would ruin what they had. Little did he know that it would ruin itself one day. 
“You love me, Y/N?” He asked, his voice still quiet. This time there was emotion behind it. Raw, tentative emotion that was deeply afraid to be shown. Sometimes he hated his own vulnerability around her. How his walls came down any time you were around. No one knew him better than she did. No one brought comfort to his soul like she did. And now...now she’d be taken from him forever. 
“With all of my heart,” she murmured to him, dabbing tears away with her napkin with her free hand. She hoped her makeup wasn’t completely ruined, however she knew deep down that it was. She felt his hand flip over in her gasp in order to hold her palm. She wrapped her fingers around him in return. 
“Let’s get out of here.” He said before standing, helping her up with their connected grasp. He left money on the table for the bill and led her outside. There was still that same incredible weight on his chest, despite her confession. It only seemed to make him hurt at the loss of her even more. 
She didn’t know where he was taking her until they ended up on the nearby waterfront. They walked onto a long pier and stared out at the ocean in heavy silence for a long time. The only thing they could hear were the laps of the waves against the wooden pillars of the dock. 
“Well this isn’t how I expected to spend my Saturday night.” Shinsou finally murmured as he pulled her closer to him. He had wanted to kiss her for so long now, perhaps now the time was right. Perhaps he should also tell her his own feelings. His silence had unnerved her, though he obviously wasn’t repulsed by the thought of her caring about him in a way that exceeded friendship. 
They were facing one another now, chests pressed against each other as Shinsou’s other hand slipped around her waist. He had never done anything like this before. They both felt incredibly awkward at the closeness, cheeks glowing pink with uncertainty. “Me either.” She mumbled back to him, voice quaking. This kind of embrace went far beyond a platonic hug. 
“Y/N, can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice dropping low as his eyes were glued to her lips. Both of their hearts were hammering within their chests so loudly that it was deafening. 
Her eyes blinked slowly as she lifted onto her toes to connect her lips with his softly in lieu of a verbal answer. The future hero was taken aback, so much so that he nearly stepped away from her. He hadn’t noticed her desperate grip on his shirt of the tightening of her hand around his. The simple need to be kissed by him too much for her to simply wait. 
Slowly his eyes closed and he reciprocated, lips pressing against hers in a chaste kiss that was over way too soon. Neither one had ever kissed someone before. It was perfect in every conceivable way. 
Before another word could be said, they kissed again and again until the moon shone high above the water. Only when their curfews edged closer did Shinsou decide to walk her home. 
He kept her hand held securely within his own, never wanting to let it go. Finally they could express how they felt with one another. The years of tension were gone only to be replaced with longing for what could have been. The walk back was torture as they both knew the time to revel in their mutual feelings would only extend for the next two weeks. 
The time spent until her sixteenth birthday, Shinsou and Y/N were inseparable. While before it was common to see them together, studying for school or just hanging out, now it was more steadfast for them to be attached at the hip. They were constantly touching each other in one way or another, her arm wrapped around his or their hands holding as they walked. His hand on her knee when they sat next to each other or even sometimes his arm around her shoulders when they watched a movie. It was small and innocent.
“Hitoshi.” She whispered to him sadly as they sat on the dock on the eve of her birthday. At midnight she would return to the sea from which she came as a newborn. “Do you promise to never forget about me?” 
She knew her request was selfish, but the thought of being totally erased from his life had plagued her tremendously. They had grown infinitely closer over such a small amount of time. Shinsou was staring at their reflections in the water. The question seemed completely absurd to him, as how could he ever forget his first love? 
“I could never forget you.” He said honestly, not noticing that she had slipped off her clothes. He was too lost in thought. 
Thousands of scales covered her most intimate parts, obscuring them from view. Her legs were already beginning to ache as she sat down on the edge of the pier, toes touching the water. Shinsou seemed outwardly unfazed by her lack of dress. Really seeing her figure without obstruction for the first time made him wildly uncomfortable with arousal. Obviously it wasn’t the time nor the place for that, but it was still a teenage boy pumped full of hormones. 
Y/N plucked a shining scale from the center of her chest and held it out to him, a sad smile on her delicate lips. “You have to promise.” She said in a voice so soft that he almost didn’t hear it. 
He took the turquoise scale and held it tightly in his palm, never wanting to forget the feel of it. “I promise.” He said, sounding totally defeated. Would he ever see her again? She said she would come to this pier as often as she could at night to visit him, but he simply did not know if she would be able to keep her word. The insurmountable pain rendered him unable to even cry at his loss. 
She slipped into the water as his watch beeped to signal the turning of the hour. She was totally obscured by the darkness. Two minutes later, a small head popped from the water and he noticed a swirling of scales scattered down her neck along with what looked like gill slits. 
“I love you.” She said one last time, as if he’d instantly forget unless she reminded him. His heart trembled in his chest as tears finally did threaten to fall. 
“I love you too.” He said resolutely, and then she was gone. 
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