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here4theheartbreak · 3 years

Text

Isn’t Nature Beautiful? (PJM)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationship: Jimin x Female Reader

Genre: smut, pwp | Rating: Explicit | Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: You and Jimin go for a walk on his day off, but all he seems to have eyes for is the trees.

Tags: smut, PWP, public sex, jealous reader, squirting, dirty talk, bareback, standing sex, clothed sex

A/N: This fic was written for @pars-ley in response to the request for Jimin x Reader, “I’m not jealous” request for my 2k followers - hope you like it!

A/N 2: This fic was written for @thebtswritersclub April Prompt: Bloom

A/N 3: The banner for this fic was made by @casuallyimagining - tysm!!

You really did love days that were all yours to spend with Jimin. The two of you rarely had days off together, especially with Jimin’s work. So when Jimin suggested you two take a walk on the lovely spring morning, through a little trail that he knew of – secluded and pretty – you were ecstatic.

That was, until you realized that Jimin was far more interested in the trees and flowers than he was in spending time with you. It wasn’t his fault, you supposed. He had borrowed a book from Namjoon recently, filled with interesting facts about the forests in your area. And Jimin, above all else, loved to learn new things.

It would have been cute. Emphasis on would have. Except the two of you had been walking for nearly an hour, and Jimin had spent far more time talking your ear off about the local fauna than even looking at you.

“They say that these types of trees—”

“If I had wanted a nature documentary, Jimin, I would have turned on the Discovery Channel.”

Jimin froze at that, looking at you. His brows furrowed. “You sound mad.”

“Did you want to spend time with me or the trees?”

The crease on Jimin’s forehead deepened, and then faded. He grinned. “Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re jealous.”

“Of what?” You spluttered.

“You tell me, ___.” He smirked. He took your hand and began to walk again, once again looking around at the trees. “Oh, ___!”

“What?” You startled at Jimin’s sudden outburst. He pulled his hand from yours and rushed over to the side of the path.

“Come look.”

You didn’t bother to stifle your eye roll as you neared him. Jimin was pointing to a tiny patch of yellow flowers.

“What am I looking at?”

“I’m not sure,” Jimin admitted. “Isn’t it pretty though?”

“Sure,” you mumbled. You didn’t mean to be bitter, but you had hoped that the two of you could talk about something other than flowers today. Spend some time with one another.

Jimin chuckled again. “You are jealous.”

“Of what, Jimin?”

“Nature? The forest, I have no idea.”

“I am not jealous!” You cried. “I just want you to pay attention to me.”

“I am. We’re walking this beautiful trail together.”

“And you’ve spent more time looking at the stupid trees and flowers than me.”

Jimin’s smile faded a little, a pout forming in its place. “I didn’t realize…”

“I know.” You sighed softly. “You’re just excited.”

“Come on.” Jimin rose and pulled you up, twining your fingers together.

“What are we doing?”

“Going to pay attention to you. And to make sure you know how nice nature is.”

You scowled at that. “Jimin, I—” Jimin dropped your hand. He slid his hand behind you and firmly grabbed your ass, nearly pulling your skirt up. “___.” His voice had taken on a deeper tone, and it went straight to your guts. You swallowed hard.

“Jimin…” “What?” He smirked. He let go of your ass and wrapped his arm around your waist instead, nuzzling your neck. “Being out here, it’s freeing, isn’t it? Surrounded by nature and beauty… If you’re feeling envious of that… I have to show you you’re where my focus is always, don’t I?”

You swallowed hard. Jimin led you a little further down the path until he spotted a bench. He settled onto it, pulling you close to him.

“Still jealous?” He asked softly, stroking your chin.

“A little,” you admitted. He sighed and looked around.

“I mean, nature is beautiful.”

You scowled at that. Jimin smirked. “Come here.” He pulled you until you moved enough to settle onto his lap. Immediately, his hands went to your thighs, sliding slowly under your skirt as he kissed over your ear. “That tree in front of us. Look at it’s pretty bark.”

You looked, noticing that the bark looked almost like a greyscale watercolor, with splotches of varying grey and brown. It was pretty – not that you’d give Jimin the satisfaction of admitting that. He didn’t seem too interested in your opinion of the tree anyway, as his hands had slid up your thighs under the skirt. He began to rub your crotch slowly, his breath hot on your neck. As he did, he began to point out a variety of trees and plants within your line of sight, giving trivia or comments on each.

It was nearly infuriating. His constant, steady, perfect stimulation between your legs had you growing more and more wet, even as he rambled on about some indigenous fern. Your panties were clinging to your pussy, soaked with your need.

Jimin slid his knuckles down over the slick, wet area, and smirked against your ear. “Take them off and hand them to me.”

“H— Here?”

“You have a skirt. Do it.”

He removed his hand and you rose. As carefully but quickly as you could, you slid your soaked panties down your legs and tugged them off. Jimin rose, pressing against your back. He shifted a little and your heart rate sped up even more. His cock was exposed, and had slid under your skirt to nestle in the crack of your ass. He began to rub and grind gently. The smooth skin of his cock slid over your ass. Hot little streaks of precome wet your skin and made your skirt cling.

Jimin grabbed your panties, balling them up and sliding them into his pocket. He sat back down, pulling you with him.

“Isn’t nature beautiful?” He asked. He dragged you onto his lap, prodding your opening with his cock. Without warning, he slammed your hips down, impaling you. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand to keep from crying out.

To anyone that walked past, you’d look somewhat normal, sitting on your boyfriend’s lap; your skirt completely hid the fact that his thick cock was buried to the hilt in your sopping pussy.

“I asked you a question, ___. Isn’t nature beautiful?” He asked again, his grip tightening on your hips as he began to make you ride him.

“Yes,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were agreeing or moaning for him. Jimin didn’t seem to care.

“These trees,” he commented as he urged you to move faster, “so big. How many years did it take them to grow this height?”

His cock was hitting your g-spot dead on, causing little shockwaves of pleasure to shoot through your nerves as you struggled to stay quiet.

He slid one hand down under your skirt, no longer needing to guide your thrusts as you rode him. You felt him lightly squeeze his balls before moving up and slapping your pussy. The sound echoed in the woods, as did your sharp cry.

“Shht,” Jimin scolded, pinching your clit and drawing another tiny moan from you. “You don’t want to disturb the animals.”

You groaned desperately, clenching around his cock as your orgasm neared, much too soon for your taste.

Jimin pushed you off his cock and rose. You turned around, ready to scold him, but the words died in your throat as he rose. His cock was hard and ruddy, slick with your fluids as it hung out of his pants. His cheeks were mottled as well, mouth parted as he drew in ragged breaths. Your pussy clenched around nothing, and a trickle of your wetness trailed lazily down your thigh.

He grabbed your hand and dragged you a few feet into the woods. Before you could question it, Jimin turned you and shoved you over a half-felled tree, the perfect height for you to bend at the waist. You were facing the trail as he flipped your skirt up. You wondered if someone would walk down it. Look this way, and see you getting pumped full of cock. The thought made you clench.

Jimin noticed, and chuckled.

“You like this.”

“Yes—“

“You should water the grass,” he commented casually. He slammed his cock in, and you didn’t bother muffling your cry this time.

Jimin began to fuck you hard and fast, reaching around to rub and pinch your swollen, sensitive clit.

“The ground plants in this area are struggling,” he commented, as if he weren’t pounding you into a tree. “They need all the water they can get, since the trees take so much.”

You heard him spit, and flushed deeply when it landed square on your exposed asshole. Jimin took his free hand and began to rub the human around your tight pucker, spreading the saliva before driving it in.

You shouted, your pussy squeezing his cock hard enough to make him moan.

Jimin began to finger your ass while still fucking you and abusing your clit, the sounds of your sex filling the air around you.

“Jimin—“ You pleaded, thighs shaking with the strain.

“I’ve got you.”

You gasped, moaning raggedly. His cock was filing you so full, gaping your swollen pussy as he used you. His thumb, buried deep in your asshole, was rubbing at the thin skin separating the two holes, tightening the way for his cock.

The pressure built steadily in your groin, drawing your muscles tight and sending urgent messages all over. Too much, he was going to push you over the edge. Your stomach twisted up and you squeezed his cock and fingers.

Too much. You sobbed brokenly as you came. Shudders of pleasure wracked your body, clenching and releasing muscles everywhere.

Your pussy convulsed, gushing hot fluid out around Jimin’s cock.

He pulled his cock free but continued to play with you, laughing a little as you squirted onto the ground, wetting your thighs. It was perfect.

You collapsed over the felled tree as your orgasm faded, muscles refusing to cooperate. Jimin must have seen your relaxed state, as he took advantage. He pushed his cock into your slick, aching hole and began to fuck you again, shoving you into the tree as he chased his orgasm.

He pinned you down, panting in your ear. Jimin getting like this was rare. He was normally reserved and polite, so when he let go, it was perfect. Your pussy convulsed, squeezing out a weak dribble of your own release.

“Tell me,” Jimin growled.

“Nature is beautiful,” you gasped, mostly teasing him.

Jimin laughed breathlessly. “___, say it.” He repeated. He slapped your ass hard.

“Give me it,” you obeyed this time, “give me your load.”

Jimin growled softly. His speed increased and he slammed in harder. Twice, three times, four, on the fifth time he drove in, he grunted, going still. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, and each pulse was accompanied with a soft grunt.

Jimin laid over you, shallowly pumping his cock into your sloppy hole until he began to go soft, finally pulling out. A trail of his come followed, dribbling down your thigh.

“You know,” you panted as you fixed yourself as best you could, “we didn’t have to do that here.”

“No, we didn’t.” Jimin fixed his jeans and reached into his pocket, pulling out your panties. You smirked, grabbing them from him and sliding them on. You grimaced at the uncomfortable wetness.

“I insist we go home so can change.”

“You don’t want to keep looking at the beautiful trees?” Jimin teased, wrapping his arms around your middle. He nuzzled your neck playfully, and you laughed.

“No, thank you.”

“But isn’t nature beautiful?” He joked.

“Jimin – good sex or not… I will deck you.”

Jimin’s mouth curled into a grin against your neck. “No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.”

“I’m hungry anyways… Why won’t we grab a bite to eat on the way home and then go watch movies?”

You relaxed a little into his arms. “That sounds good.”

As you two walked back toward where he’d parked, you sighed softly, looking around. “You know,” you began, “nature really is beautiful. Even if I’m jealous my boyfriend loves it so much.”

#bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #jimin x reader #smut #park jimin #pjm x reader #female reader #bts reader #jimin smut #mywriting

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cocoswriting · 3 years

Note

lee wilbur, ler techno? maybe smth where wilbur’s being chaotic so techno takes him down a peg? you dont have to tho— /gen

Chaotic Mf

Summary; Basically what the ask says; Wilbur was being chaotic/creepy and needed to be taken down a peg. [PLATONIC. DO NOT TAG AS SHIP.]

Warning(s); This is a tickle fic! If you don’t like that kind of stuff, then I recommend you just scroll past.

“You put ecosystems in jars?..”

“Yeah,” Wilbur responded casually, laying upside-down on the couch opposite Techno. He had his legs curled over the back of the couch and his head was dangling off the edge—it was a wonder how he hadn’t gotten uncomfortable enough to shift positions yet. Wilbur seemed to have a strange habit of never sitting correctly when he was in one of his “chaotic” moods, always finding some weird way to rest instead. “I go out and collect mud, rocks, soil, and I put them inside the jar.” he explained, and Techno scrunched up his face both in confusion and mild disgust.

“And... this is a normal thing?” Techno asked disbelievingly, flipping a page in the book he had in his hands, though it wasn’t as if he was paying much attention to the text anymore. Wilbur nodded happily from across the room, grinning as he opened his mouth to continue explaining, only to get cut off by Techno. “Wil, I don’t really care. I’m tryn’ to read right now.”

Wilbur huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting in fake dismay and staring at Techno almost expectantly, even though the piglin was very clearly no longer looking at him. “Well, you should care,” the brunet replied with a sassy tone of voice, sounding akin to an annoyed child. “I swear I’m not the only one who does this! Ranboo does it too, or at least he did...”

“Ranboo did that—?... No, Wilbur, really, just talk about literally anythin’ else. I do not care about your jar ecosystems,” Techno was already used to dealing with Wilbur’s chaotic moods. They’d come in at random times, last a couple hours, and then eventually he’d lose all the excess energy he had and go back to “normal.” So it wasn’t as if he actually expected Wil to stop when he was told to—Techno knew he wouldn’t—but he figured he might as well try to change the topic that Wilbur would ramble on about. Honestly, Techno just wanted to read his book. “Can’t you bother someone else? It isn’t that late, Phil and Tommy are still up.”

Wilbur let out a loud, dramatic sigh followed by a shake of his head and a couple tutting sounds. “You’re no fun,” his tone was playful, indicative of the grin that was on his face, despite his words suggesting otherwise. “But fine! I’ll talk about something else.” Wilbur rolled himself over on the couch, sitting upright and then standing up to make his way over to the man sitting across from him. Techno tore his eyes away from the book and glanced up when he realised Wilbur had approached, raising an eyebrow and glaring half-heartedly at the musician.

“What?” Techno’s voice sounded tired, more tired than usual, but bore no real malice as he impatiently awaited Wilbur’s response.

“Have you ever seen Doctor Who?”

“Oh my god,” Techno looked down and rubbed his temples, dropping the book beside him and running one of his hands through his hair, groaning loudly. He heard Wilbur’s shrill laugh at his reaction, which was shortly followed by the sound of shuffling as he sat down next to the piglin and crossed his legs, seemingly prepping himself to start telling whatever story he wanted to tell Techno about. “Please.”

“I already told Phil about this one,” Wilbur began, biting back another laugh at Techno’s long sigh which came straight after. “So, there are these things called ‘weeping angels—!” Wil was quickly cut off by a rough jab to his side. He managed to force back any verbal reactions he might have given to the sudden electric tingly feeling that spread all throughout his side, but he couldn’t conceal the very obvious flinch and curling of his lips.

“You good?” Techno asked, having removed his hands from his face to shoot his brother a concerned glance. Wilbur felt heat rush to his face, but he couldn’t tell whether he’d paled, or gone red. “Did you...” He shifted closer to the brunet, cocking his head to one side. “You flinched,” The elder stated quite obviously, expression a mixture of curiosity and interest.

“You caught me off-guard,” Wilbur quickly stammered out, a sheepish half-smile spreading over his face. Techno frowned—and it was clear from just that gesture that he wasn’t buying it.

Techno placed one hand on his side and left it there, unmoving. Wilbur didn’t flinch that time, but he wanted to, his flustered state having raised his hypersensitivity to the point where he wanted to squirm even just imagining that Techno might find out. “I was just tryin’ to shut you up, you needa’ tell me what happened or I’ll assume that you’re hurt,” Techno said, beginning to slowly rub two(2) fingers in small circles on Wilbur’s side. The last part of his sentence came off as more of a threat to his brother—he didn’t want to worry Techno, but at the same time, getting found out like this would be so embarrassing.

“I-I’m not—“ Wilbur was cut off by a quiet gasp, but not quiet enough for Techno to let slip. One of Techno’s ears twitched at the sound and he made a gruff huffing noise, now reaching down to tug up the hem of his brother’s sweater, exposing the bottom half of his side. “Hey, I’m not hurt, okAY—!” Techno, being the oblivious bastard he was, began to rub gentle circles on Wilbur’s bare side, which elicited a comical noise sounding like a mix between a squeal and a yelp from the man. As Wil managed to squirm away from the tingles, butterflies erupted in his belly when he thought; there’s no getting out of this now.

Silence filled the room for a couple seconds, the gears turning in Techno’s head before it finally clicked, and he couldn’t help the smug expression that formed on his face when he realised what Wilbur had been trying to hide. “You’re ticklish,” he emphasised the ‘T-word’, causing Wilbur’s face to heat up even more, and the fact that Techno’s hand still remained hovering just ever-so-slightly above his side, was not helping. “How come I didn’t know this before? You keepin’ secrets from me, hm?” Techno shoved both of his hands up Wilbur’s shirt and gently ran his nails up and down his skin, eliciting a few snickers along with squeaks and he tried to muffle his giggles.

Wilbur frantically shook his head ‘no’ and looked down, his hair falling in front of his face and (thankfully) hiding his bright pink cheeks. Tingles and shockwaves of tickly sensations shot up his sides, the feeling only increasing the longer Techno’s fingers lingered in the same spot. “Well— you’re definitely much quieter now,” Techno remarked, and Wilbur opened his mouth to give a sassy response, only for a loud squeak to come out instead as the gliding nails began to gently scratch at each side of his back. He arched forward but shifted backwards, resting his back against the armrest and laying down. Wil had hoped this would quell the sensations at least a little, but it only made them worse, the little scratches becoming rougher as Techno’s fingers got trapped. “This seems like a good way to take you down a peg whenever you’re in one of your ‘chaotic’ moods.”

“N-no—hohahahaa!” As Techno moved his hands up to Wilbur’s ribs, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. High-pitched giggles flooded from Wilbur’s lips as he wriggled and squirmed, throwing his head back as his hands switched between trying to protect the targeted spots and trying to push Techno away. It wasn’t exactly working out for him, and eventually he just curled up, hoping to drown out the tickles somehow. It only got worse once he felt Techno begin to drill his thumbs into the spaces between each of the bones. “NOHO! DOHohon’t dohoho thahahat, plehehehahase!”

As Techno gazed down at the giggling boy, he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t melt at the sight of his bright, carefree smile. “Why not?~” His tone of voice was still deadpan, but it had a sing-songy edge to it this time. If Wilbur had the guts to muster up insults at the time, he would’ve called him every name in the book just as revenge for the horrible teases. “Does it tickle too much? Surely you can’t be that ticklish, right?~” Every time the T-word was mentioned Wilbur felt the pit in his stomach fill with more butterflies, and his blush began to slowly spread out to his neck and ears. “It’s your own fault for bein’ annoyin’.”

“Ihihihi wahahasn’t beheheing ahahannoying!” Wilbur insisted, his giggles slowly increasing as Techno’s fingers danced their way up his ribs, heading for his armpits. But before they could reach the spot, he instinctively slammed his arms down to protect himself, blocking the offending hands just in time. It seemed that Techno took this defensive action as provoking, because his immediate response to that was to sigh disappointedly and start skittering around Wil’s neck and shoulders, causing him to scrunch up like a turtle and begin to wriggle side-to-side in a weak attempt at escaping the tickles. “Nohohoho! Fuhuhuahahack ohohoff— yohohou’re sohoho mehehehehahan!”

“Mean? This isn’t mean,” Wilbur could hardly make out Techno’s words anymore, considering he was much more focused on the shocks of tickles and his own embarrassment. But once he heard those words leave his brother’s lips, he couldn’t help but start squirming even harder on top of squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t process what the words meant in his state—but he’s heard that tone before. And that tone means ‘you fucked up’. “You wanna see mean?” Techno asked rhetorically and Wilbur began frantically shaking his head, letting out giggly little “nononono”s as he tensed, prepping himself for the inevitable attack that would come next.

“AAAHAA!” Wilbur shrieked as he felt Techno’s lips make contact with his tummy, quickly followed by an explosion of tickles as he blew a raspberry, shaking his head during it to make it even worse. Wil bucked, cackled and squealed, only for his hips to get held down and mercilessly drilled into by two(2) of Techno’s fingers. All of his nerves felt like they were on fire, and he felt everything—every last pinch to his hips, every raspberry that was blown, and it was almost too much for him to handle. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t loving it. “NAHAHAHAAA! TEHEHEHAHAHAHA—!”

Even after Techno ceased the raspberries, he still seemed fully intent on being as merciless as possible. He continued to drill right into the dip of Wilbur’s hipbone, using his other hand to rapidly squeeze his tummy, never letting up and never slowing down. Wilbur had completely given up on trying to fight back, his arms were too tired for that now and he knew it was no use, so instead he began using his hands to cover his bright pink face with. “Oh, poor Wilbur,” Techno began, a very obviously feigned sympathetic tone in his voice. “Being tickled is just such a hard job.”

“SHUHUAHAHAT UHUHUHUP!” Wilbur forced out through his hysterics, helplessly rolling his torso back and forth, attempting to focus his attention on literally anything else other than the tickles he was receiving. He couldn’t decide if he loved or hated it—it was unbearable and maddening, he felt like he was being driven up a wall, but at the same time he had to admit that he was having fun. He was soaking up all the attention like a sponge. It didn’t take much longer before his laughter became wheezy and strained, though, and he’d decided he had enough. “O-OHOHOKAHAY! STOHOHAHAHAHAP, THAHAHAHAT’S ENOHOHOHOUGH—!”

Techno listened straight away, ceasing the tickles and backing away as Wilbur curled in on himself, hugging his midsection while trying to rid of the after-tingles that still remained. “You alright?.. was it too much?” Techno asked, reaching over to deliver a couple, comforting pats to Wilbur’s head. He would’ve leaned away if it weren’t for how exhausted he was from all his laughter. “...sorry,”

“N-noho, noho... it,” Wilbur knew he should be careful with his choice of words there. He didn’t want to give away how much he’d actually enjoyed himself, but at the same time, he was well aware he’d likely given that fact away while being tickled. He supposed there was no point in lying—especially if it would risk making Techno worry over nothing. “...wahas nice.”

There was no response for a couple seconds, but then the silence was interrupted by a snort coming from Techno, and Wilbur instantly knew what he would have found amusing. But as Techno gently ran his fingers through his hair, practically soothing Wilbur to sleep, he found he didn’t care as much as he did before.

They should do this again sometime.

#mcyt #dsmp #tickle #tickling #tickle fic #fic #ticklish!wilbur #lee!wilbur #ler!techno #ler!technoblade #requests

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catcze · 3 years

Note

*the letter arrived today attached to a small box. Within the box you found a large fleece blanket, dark purple in color with a rose insignia emblazened in a violet hue into the center, and smelling faintly of lavender, a scent your mind immediately associated with Lisa*

Darling I'm sorry for the delay in my response, I've just been so busy lately! I've had half a dozen books go missing in the last 2 days, and rounding them up has been a nightmare.. And to top it off, apparently Klee, bless her heart, one of her treasures caused a small shockwave within the Knights' headquarters, knocking an entire bookshelf over. Jean forced her to help clean it up as repentance, but it still took the three of us a few hours I've hardly had any "me" time today...

That being said, while I was running those errands from work I had this wonderful idea. I know you said that you slept better when we were together, so I asked Albedo for some help. This is one of my blankets from home, that I use daily, so my scent was already on it. Albedo was able to enchant it with his alchemy to make it so the scent will never fade out! I know it's still a far cry from being wrapped up in your girlfriend's embrace, but I hope it will make you happy. I can just imagine your smile as you read this letter, and it makes me so so happy 💜

Venting about having to do actual work aside, life has been so good lately. I'm always in such a good mood, especially since we write so frequently these days. I do still miss you, and I wish you were here. If I started crying, would you come back sooner? I'm just teasing, don't worry. I made sure Sucrose knew that too, otherwise you know that girl would worry about me forever. She's sweet like that, but still nowhere near as sweet as you 💜

Jean and Klee both asked me to tell you they miss you(well those were Jean's words. Klee wants you to know she has a new "treasure" to show you). We all miss you.

I hope you're well when you read this letter, and that the blanket will help. If I'm lucky, it'll tempt you to come return it to me in person in exchange for the real deal, hehehe~💜 I'm going to give you so many kisses when you come back to me, probably more than there are stars in the sky. I think that would be fitting, don't you starlight~? Have you ever thought about that actually; how many things we do infrequently, but if you think about it you've probably done them millions of times in your life? It's so fascinating to me honestly. How many times do you think you've inhaled and exhaled in your life? That number must be in the trillions! Hehe... I'm sleepy rambling again. Time to get sappy.

I love you so much. I wasn't even exaggerating about how many kisses I plan to give you. I miss so much about you; the taste of your lips, that look you give me when I press my finger against your lip(you know what I'm talking about~), your hair, your scent... I'm enamored, infatuated... In love with you. Completely and utterly. I just wish you were here with me now. I'm sorry to get all whiny, I just... I miss you, my rose.

Also because I know you'll worry about it, I have plenty of other blankets, so don't think you've stolen my best one(I have two others identical to the one I've sent you). I want you to have this. I care so so deeply about you and I want you to sleep as wonderfully as you can while you can't be wrapped up in bed with me.

Won't you tell me more also about the adventures you're having? What have you been up to? What things have you seen? I hear they sell cameras in Liyue, if you've been you should definitely get one and start sending me pictures! I want to know more about what my babygirl has been doing~ Anyways, I'll call my letter to a close here, before I run onto another sheet of paper, hehe~💜

I love you princess. So so so much~

Yours Always,

- Lisa 🌺💜

[The envelope that arrives this time is bigger by a few inches, and it seems that it’s been spritzed with vanilla perfume. Opening it shows that there’s more than just the letter in there–– there are several glossy photographs as well. They’re a little amateur, with a few being blurred slightly, but the enthusiasm to take the photos and send them back home is evident. They consist of mundane things like the clouds against the blue sky, the lights of a beautiful city at night reflected on a river, or a picture of some sort of foreign dish, still steaming hot. One picture in particular is simple: a figure contrasted by the light of the setting sun in the background, hands curved together to form a heart shape with their palms and fingers. On the back of this particular photo is written ‘Miss you very much. I promise to come back home soon <3′ and a pretty pink lipstick mark.]

⠀I hope these photos will suffice, dearest. I’ve picked up a camera as you’ve suggested, but I’m unfortunately still getting used to it. Still, I’ve taken some photographs of some of the everyday things that i see here. Everywhere I look, I can’t help but wish you were accompanying me where I went. But! When I come back, I’ll be sure to bring the camera with me, and we can take plenty of pictures together in Mondstadt.

⠀Honestly, my day was going rather well. A bit slow, and there was a lack of things to do at one point, but I’m grateful for the rest. I’ve actually stopped at Sumeru, and I’ve settled down here for a bit before I go on my way again. I managed to talk my way into observing several lectures at the Sumeru Academy for a bit, since I got curious about how it was for you when you still attended here. I don’t plan to stay for very long, but one of the scholars who agreed to let me watch has a class tomorrow, and rather bright and early as well. Ah, I do hope I manage to wake up on time, I’d hate to take their hospitality for granted.

⠀Aside from that, the gift you sent me definitely made my day! The blanket you’ve sent is such a comfort–– much better than the ones I’ve been using. It was a lovely surprise, and it brings back so many memories of my home with you. It’s a wonderful gift, one that I’ll keep by me at all times. Send my thanks to Albedo, as well please, and tell everyone back home that I miss them very much as well (But shhh, don’t let them know that I miss you most of all 💞)

⠀You’ve had a busy day, please rest if you’re tired! As much as I adore you when you’re sappy, I’m sure it wasn’t easy dealing with those missing books and the mess in the library. Promise me you’ll get some rest and dream of me, alright? Dearest, I don’t mind if your letters come a little late, as long as I know you’re well-rested and safe. I hope no one got hurt in the little shockwave and in the fall–– promise me you’re all okay? Much like you would come to me the moment I ask, know that I would also do my best to come back sooner if I hear that you’re sad or hurt. I can’t have your smile disappearing now, can I?

⠀When I come home, I’ll be sure to return every kiss and ounce of affection you give me, sweets. Ah, I miss hearing you call me ‘Starlight’ in person. It always used to send butterflies in my stomach, and even now I get a rush just from reading it. I’m very much in love with you too, dearest. I always will be. I miss you more and more each day that we’re apart, but I suppose that distance makes the heart grow fonder? You make me so happy, and merely thinking about you is enough to lift my spirits. Look at that–– even when we’re apart, you’re still affecting me in such good ways.

⠀Haha, and it makes me glad that you’ve still got blankets to spare. I’d hate to have stolen your best one, after all, though it is sooo comfortable. Your gift means the world to me, dear. Thank you again 💞 I have to stop here as well–– I would hate to make you read so much if you haven’t rested yet. I love you so much as well, and know that I dream of you, Lisa.

⠀––Catte 💞

#Deadass under a cut bc im channeling my love for you so much and I'd hate to clog someone's feed w my rambling skjnkjsd #Character anon 💌 : Lisa #Kisses from Catte 🦩#LISA YOURE GONNA MAKE ME CRYYY ILYSM 😭💞#babe I LAUGHED because when I read the part where you can imagine my smile #my bitch ass was literally grinning like an idiot aaAAA 😭💞#Also!! regarding your other ask–– feel free to check up any time you feel anxious about tumblr devouring your letter!#They deffo do eat them sometimes smh :(( And i wouldnt want to keep you waiting because of it!#So feel free to come in and ask ask about it whenever you want sweets <3

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years

Text

There’s Insurance for That

In which Skylor buys lunch, stops a criminal, and learns the best way to blow up the kitchen electronics section, which is a pretty normal week for her, she guesses. Or, five places the ninja are no longer allowed into, featuring Skylor.

(been hitting a bit of a writer’s block with everything else lately, so here’s this...disaster, i guess?? because these ninja are definitely a disaster in this, but i was having fun so. this is the bed bath & beyond fic btw, in case anyone was wondering gdfkgdh)

1. My. Kazami’s Ramen Place

At this point, sadly, Skylor’s used to it.

It’s around a quarter to noon on a Monday, just as she's leaving the noodle shop for her well-deserved lunch break, when a familiar scream splits the relatively-quiet afternoon air on this side of Ninjago City.

The only reason Skylor does not immediately dissolve into panic at said scream is because she is — also sadly — familiar with the variations of it, and this one sounds less like it’s Lloyd’s “I’m-in-terrible-danger-and/or-pain-again” scream, and more like his “I’m-free-falling-on-purpose-from-the-sky-again” scream. Which is, in and of itself, not entirely concerning. In fact, it’d probably be more unusual not to see Lloyd go falling from the sky at some point during any of the ninjas’ higher-than-eight-feet battles, because somehow that’s become a habitual thing. The sky is blue, fire is hot, Kai uses hair gel — Lloyd is going to drop screaming from the sky at some point this month.

So instead of panicking, Skylor figures she’ll just stand in the vicinity until Lloyd either climbs out of another dumpster, or lands on top of her. Kai doesn’t seem to be around to catch him, so Skylor’s prepared to step up, even though it looks like Lloyd’s got a pretty good handle on landing, at the angle she’s watching him from.

Still though, she muses. You’d think he’d have started actively wearing a parachute at this point.

“Kai suggested that,” Lloyd says, after he’s finally able to stand straight, and he’s not quite as cross-eyed. He frowns at his reflection in a store window as they pass by, scuffing at his windblown hair again. “But it gets in the way, you know? It throws off my backflips.”

“That’s a nail in the coffin right there,” Skylor agrees, leading them across another sidewalk. Lloyd’s attracting a lot of looks, with his bright green battle gi and razor-sharp sword strapped across his back, but fortunately no one’s started crowding them yet. Probably because the razor-sharp sword strapped to his back. “Can’t have your fighting style completely crippled,” she adds.

“I don’t backflip that much,” Lloyd huffs. Yes, you do, is on the tip of Skylor’s tongue, because she’s seen him fight, but she decides not to pick that battle…this time.

“Besides,” Lloyd continues. “I don’t really need a parachute, anyways. I always make sure to aim for like, somewhere safe to land. Relatively safe. Safe-ish.”

Skylor eyes him. “You landed in a dumpster.”

Lloyd bristles in offense. “I did not! It was a perfectly respectable recycling bin.”

“Same thing, if you ask me.”

“Not even close. Dumpsters are gross. Recycling bins you just crash through a whole bunch of cardboard and old newspapers. It’s luxury trash diving.”

Skylor just sighs, shaking her head, and edits the text she’s been tapping out for Kai.

Skylor > found your kid in a recycling bin

Skylor > taking him to lunch bc you’re clearly starving him again

Skylor > he’s alive btw

Kai > oh thank fsm

Kai > tell him he’s grounded

Kai > u never take me for lunch :(

Skylor > maybe if u dropped on me from the sky sometime i would

“Hey, are the others busy?” she asks Lloyd in afterthought. “Like…fighting anyone?”

“Huh?” Lloyd blinks. He then flushes, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, no. We’d pretty much finished up the fight when I, uh…there was a break-in, on the Bounty? We had the guys all taken care of, but they blew part of the mast up, and it left debris all over the deck, so I kind of…maybe….tripped…”

Lloyd is bright red by the time he finishes the sentence. Skylor wouldn’t feel so bad about it, if she wasn’t doubled over laughing at him in the middle of rush hour traffic.

“You are a trained ninja,” she breathes out, between snickers.

“I know,” Lloyd moans.

“You’re like, part god.”

“I know,” Lloyd moans again, into his hands this time. Skylor has to grab his shoulders and forcibly drag him along down the crowded street, trying not to cringe inside at all the looks they’re getting.

“Kai says you’re grounded, by the way,” she says, as the last of her laughter fades.

That snaps Lloyd out of it. “He can’t ground me,” he scowls. “I’m leader.”

“Stop falling from the sky, and maybe he’ll give it a rest,” Skylor replies, glancing down as her phone buzzes again.

Kai > I’d join u but I’m stuck on prison delivery

Kai > nya’s coming to pick up the demon spawn tho

Skylor > nice I’ve been wanting to buy her lunch

Kai > cruel

“—don’t know what you mean, I don’t fall that often, and most of the time it’s on purpose, anyways—”

Skylor chooses to ignore Lloyd’s slightly-concerning, sulking rambling, and pats his shoulder instead. “Nya’s coming for lunch, too,” she says. “Does ramen sound good?”

“Oh, yeah.” Lloyd brightens, seemingly cheered by the reminder he’s getting food out of this. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten out.”

“I can tell,” Skylor says, eyeing him. “Cole hasn’t been cooking for you, has he?"

“No, but we put Zane on mandatory break so he could relax a bit, and we’re all suffering for it.”

Lloyd and Skylor both jump at Nya’s voice, not having heard her coming up behind them.

“Nya!” Lloyd beams. “Skylor is — ouch, hey, let go!”

“That’s what you get for giving me gray hairs again,” Nya scolds, digging her knuckles into Lloyd’s hair. She looks up from the hold she’s pulled him into, and smiles brightly at Skylor. “Hi, Skylor. Nice to see you.”

“Hi, Nya.” Skylor gives a little wave, watching Lloyd squirm out of Nya’s grasp in amusement.

“So, ramen?” Nya says, giving Lloyd one last elbow in the side before joining Skylor.

“Yeah,” she says. “I was thinking the place down on seventh, the Sobahouse, I think?”

Lloyd and Nya both stiffen, their steps slowing. Skylor pauses, turning to stare at them in confusion. “That’s not the one owned by someone named Mr. Kazami, is it?” Nya finally asks, hesitantly.

“Uh, yeah, it is, actually,” Skylor blinks. “He’s pretty nice, we go to the same grocer on weekends.”

“Ah,” Lloyd says, carefully.

“Hm,” Nya hesitates.

Skylor looks between the two of them, now completely stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She really hopes no one is getting pictures of her like this. There are enough flash articles about the rumored orange ninja cryptid on the internet as it is. “Is that…a problem?”

Nya pointedly stares at the sky as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s seen all day. Baffled, Skylor tries the weaker link. Lloyd swallows, avoiding her eyes as he bounces from leg to leg, as if the mere thought of trying to enter the restaurant is terrifying. Which is mildly alarming, because this is the same kid who power-walked straight into a prison full of escaped violent criminals, his psychotic ex, and his undead murderous dad without hesitation.

“We can’t,” Lloyd finally mutters, staring at the sidewalk. Nya elbows him in the side, hissing “weak link” as she does. Lloyd just glares at her.

“O-okay,” Skylor says, unsure. “I mean, that’s fine if you guys want to go somewhere else. I just didn’t know you…didn’t like this place…”

“No, we do,” Lloyd grinds out, and he looks more embarrassed than terrified now, so Skylor aborts her half-formed plans of speed-dialing Karloff. “We just can’t. Go in, that is. We’re not allowed to.”

Skylor stares at him. “You’re not allowed in? Why not?”

“Because,” Nya forces through gritted teeth. “They banned us.”

“They what?” Skylor gapes.

Nya presses her lips together tightly. Lloyd stares very hard at the ground, as if desperately trying to convince himself to keep quiet. Skylor can pinpoint the moment he breaks, his expression contorting as he throws his hands up wildly. “You blow their electrical system up one time—”

“Oh guys, no,” Skylor groans, before bursting into laughter at him for the second time that day. Lloyd looks incredibly unappreciative, his expression scrunching up in annoyance like she hasn’t seen since that one stupid skating match with Chamille, and that just makes her laugh harder.

“We were trying to save them!” Nya defends indignantly. “It’s not our fault they had weak wiring—”

“I just got a little too into it, it’s — it’s Nya’s fault, she’s the one that said it’d be cool if I tried to do shockwave thing like in—”

“That was a mutual thing and you know it!”

“Oh guys, no,” Skylor wheezes into her hands.

“It worked!”

“Poor Mr. Kazami,” Skylor manages, through snickers. Lloyd’s shoulders slump, his upper lip pouting, and Nya crosses her arms, as if refusing to look ashamed.

“It’s not like the other guys aren’t banned from anywhere, either—”

“Alright, alright,” Skylor waves her hands, taking pity on them. “We’ll go somewhere else.”

“Good,” Nya mutters, as Lloyd exhales in relief. Skylor just snickers again, leading them down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. She bites her lip, shaking her head, before a thought occurs to her.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘it’s not like they aren’t banned from anywhere’?” she frowns. “You guys are banned from more than one place?”

“No,” Nya says firmly, before Lloyd can even speak up. “Forget I said anything.”

Skylor will do no such thing, but she decides it’s in her best interest not to pursue it. Nya is not the sort of person to trifle with, and she does want that ramen.

She gets her answer soon enough, anyways.

2. Ninjago City Aquarium

While Skylor has the early shift on Tuesdays, she does get the afternoons off, which is pretty nice for the most part, if it didn’t mean she’d be bored for the rest of the day. So she hits the grocery store and decides to take the long way home, partially because walking is supposed to be good for you, and partially in hopes that one of the ninja will drop in on her again.

She’s not disappointed.

Granted, a minor explosion going off from inside the Ninjago City Aquarium wasn’t exactly what she was expecting today, but the figures in bright red and white arguing furiously outside the security perimeter are par for the course.

It’s a little odd that they haven’t already rushed in yet, Skylor notes, but with the way they’re loudly yelling at each other in the middle of the street, she figures she’ll find out soon enough.

“No, Kai, it is our civic duty to follow the laws put in place for the safety of civilians—”

“Oh come on, you get brainwashed into a slightly-murderous emperor one time and now you’re a stickler for everything?!”

"One time was enough, Kai!”

“Uh, hi guys,” Skylor approaches the two, hesitantly. “Is everything alright?”

“Skylor!” Kai whirls on her, his eyes wild. “Thank FSM, you’ve gotta help us out — they won’t let us in!” He shakes his fist at the aquarium doors, before springing for the security gate. “Let us in, let us in—”

“Shaking the gate like an animal is not going to convince them, Kai!” Zane pleads, prying Kai away. He shoots Skylor an apologetic glance as he wrangles Kai into a gentle chokehold. “We would greatly appreciate your help, if possible. There’s a low-threat criminal with an unfortunate assortment of weaponry who ran into the aquarium, and we’re legally unable to pursue. If you could try to drive him out, perhaps?”

“I — you — you’re what?” Skylor has the weirdest sense of déjà vu, before it’s lost in confusion. Her head swivels from the frustrated expression on Kai’s face to the pleading one on Zane’s, then to the grocery bags in her hands. She looks back up at Kai, who’s now giving her the puppy eyes. Something from inside the aquarium explodes loudly.

“Sure,” she sighs, handing Kai her grocery bags. “Just one guy?”

“Just one guy,” Kai exhales in relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Skylor, I — hey, are these those snack cakes they made to look like us?”

“Yes, eat them and you die,” Skylor hisses. She turns to Zane, holding her hand out half-hesitantly. “Lend a girl some ice powers?”

“Of course,” Zane nods, letting her take his hand. There’s a brief moment as Skylor melds her power with Zane’s, absorbing the icy force and mimicking it to her own — a part of her notes vaguely that it’s stronger than the last time she borrowed it, but she shakes it off, pulling her hand back and tugging the hood of her jacket up, mentally hoping no one writes another article about the possible existence of a cryptid orange ninja after this.

“Alright,” she says. “Be back in five.”

“Thank you,” Zane says fervently, as Kai sputters, “Hey, why didn’t you borrow my power?”

“Because fire is explosive, and you’ve gotta be banned from here for a reason!” Skylor calls back, ice already misting over her fingertips as she sprints inside the aquarium.

“You’d be surprised,” Kai mutters, after her retreating back.

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

“So,” Skylor says, flexing her right hand and wincing briefly. That last right hook she’d thrown at the guy might have been a little too hard, in hindsight. But he was being a jerk, and threatening to set off a bomb near the little seahorses — and it did do the trick, so now the aquarium can have the host of cop cars off its back. Skylor feels pretty accomplished in her good deed for the day, actually. “Why, again, couldn’t you guys have taken care of that yourselves? Not that I minded,” she adds, quickly. Using the ice element had been fun. She’d forgotten what she could do with Zane’s powers.

Kai gives a nervous laugh that’s so fake it almost hurts, especially with the pained expression he makes at the end. Zane just rubs his temple with a hand, looking eternally weary.

“Like I said, we are legally not permitted to enter the aquarium, until…when was it again, Kai?”

“Five years from now,” Kai mutters. “Or whenever the director dies.”

“Yes, five years from now,” Zane repeats, with a dead sort of look in his eyes. “So your assistance was very much appreciated. Thank you.”

“It was no problem, but — wait, hold on, how are you banned from the aquarium for five years?” she stutters. “I mean, I can get Lloyd and Nya with the ramen place—”

“Ha! They told you about that? It was great—”

“Kai, please.”

“—and I can understand Kai, but you, Zane?”

She feels a little guilty for calling him out so bluntly, but it’s Zane. Zane doesn’t just get banned from places, she has to know. And he doesn’t look too upset at the question. Kai looks mildly betrayed, but not that much. They both know Skylor’s point is too valid for him to argue with effectively.

Zane gives another bone-weary sigh. “There is a small chance, that there was a time we were pursuing another villain here, and during that battle, I might have…underestimated the amount of ice I was putting out.” Zane shifts, looking pained. “Which in turn accidentally spread to any bodies of liquid that happened to be nearby at the time, which perhaps were filled with rather expensive aquatic life.”

“You froze a fish exhibit,” Skylor deadpans.

“They were merely in extreme hibernation,” Zane grits out. “They would have been fine, had Kai not tried to fix the ice.”

“Hey, it made sense! I could melt it quickest!”

“Except you didn’t just melt it, did you? No, you had an entire fish fry—”

“The poor fish,” Skylor says, staring at them blankly. “What were they?”

“Like, these rainbow fish, from way up north, I think?” Kai says. “I swear I didn’t make it that hot.”

“The water was boiling, Kai!”

“You fish murderer,” Skylor says, the corners of her mouth trembling with the laugh she’s holding back. Kai glares at Zane, then her, then Zane again.

“I didn’t freeze them solid.”

“Whatever the cause of their death, they died, and we’re banned now,” Zane says, hastily. “End of story. Would you like to take this back to the Bounty, Skylor? I know the others have been wanting to see you, and we can at least offer you tea in thanks.” He eyes the grocery bags Kai’s still holding. “Unless, of course, you wish to return home…”

“Nah, tea sounds good,” she smiles. “Besides, I bought the snack cakes for you guys to try anyways. They’ve got little squashed ninja faces in icing on ‘em.”

“You’re the best,” Kai says, looking somewhat relieved, and oh, he definitely ate one while Skylor was in there. She’s going to have to pay him back for that one…

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she says airily, figuring she’ll take her revenge later. “You can tell me more about the fish massacre on our way back. By the way, Pixal wouldn’t happen to have heard this story, would she?”

Zane gives her a look, and she almost feels bad about it. “I’m going to regret inviting you, aren’t I.”

“Maybe,” she grins. “Jury’s still out.”

3. An Entire Drugstore Chain

Wednesdays are always busy at the noodle shop, for reasons Skylor has yet to figure out. Fridays she understands, but the middle of the week? Nothing kills your drive like knowing you’re going to do this all over again in a day.

It’s good money for the shop though, she reminds herself as she locks up that evening. Any money is good money for the shop, because her stupid dad made sure she’d have a real hole to dig herself out of there, but Wednesday money is always especially good. Even if she ends up leaving the shop late and can’t get the noodle smell from her hair for the next three days.

Normally, she’d trudge home and crash into bed after these kind of shifts. But tonight is different, because she stayed long enough at the Bounty yesterday to get invited to game night, and once you’ve promised the ninja you’re going to bring snacks for Monopoly, you can’t just say no. Not unless you want Lloyd to shoot betrayed glares at you the rest of the month.

Besides, she’s promised Kai she’ll sneak out to the movies with him afterwards, and she can’t just go breaking that promise. Plus, she’s not heartless enough to deny Cole cake when he’s got the most spectacular black eye she’s seen all year bruising up around the left side of his face.

“Lucky hit,” Cole grumbles, after she’s been caught staring too long. She hasn’t wanted to ask him about it, since it seems a sensitive subject and he’s already taking the time to help her pick up (carry) all the snacks. But it’s impossible to miss, even in the dim streetlights they’re walking under, and Skylor cares about her friends, thank you very much. “We busted some drug dealers today, and I got too relaxed.”

“They normally really aren’t any match for you, to be fair,” Skylor offers.

“They weren’t this time either, that’s the sad thing,” Cole says, scrubbing a hand through his thick hair as they wait at the stoplight. “This was all on me. I kinda deserved it.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Skylor tries to console him, even though the ugly red at the edge of his eye says otherwise.

Cole gives her a bleak look. “Jay made a joke, and I laughed at it. And then I got hit across the face with a baseball bat, mid-laugh.”

“Ouch,” Skylor hisses through her teeth. “Never mind, that’s bad. Was it a good joke, at least?”

“No, that’s the thing,” Cole groans, as the light finally turns red, allowing them to cross the street. “It was terrible. And I still laughed hard enough not to notice a bat coming for my face.”

Skylor grimaces. “You were just being a good friend, I guess,” she says, and Cole snorts. “Like you are to me, right now,” she continues, glancing ruefully at the shopping list she’s been sent. “I was going to say I had it handled, then I actually looked at everything you guys asked for.”

Cole laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s…that’s us, I guess. Sorry about that. We’re paying for it all, don’t worry.”

“What?” Skylor blinks. Oh no, no way. The ninja have done enough for her, the least she can do is cover a couple bags of popcorn and like ten things of M&M’s. “No, I got it. I owe you guys, anyways.”

Cole bristles. “No way. We owe you, if anything. The amount of times you’ve covered our tab at the noodle shop?”

“How about the amount of times you’ve saved my noodle shop?” Skylor shoots back. “That outweighs a few measly tabs.”

“The only reason we had to save it was because we were there in the first place,” Cole points out. “We’re danger magnets.”

“I’m sorry, I’m the daughter of Chen, remember?” Skylor huffs. “I can attract enemies all by myself.”

“Not as many as we do,” Cole says. “Also! You helped us beat Chen, and get Zane back. We’re eternally indebted to you.”

Skylor narrows her eyes. “Only after I stabbed you all in the back. So I eternally owe you.”

“Bold of you to assume we haven’t all stabbed each other in the back at some point,” Cole scoffs. “Trust me, you’re nowhere as bad as Lloyd — he like, single-handedly ruined our whole month by letting a bunch of snakes out.”

Skylor pauses at that, torn between refuting his argument and asking how in the world Lloyd, of all people, could possibly manage to wreak enough havoc to—

Actually, she doesn’t have any trouble believing that at all. But to be sure— “Lloyd let the Serpentine out? All by himself?”

Cole looses a bit of his fire, and scuffs his shoe awkwardly across the sidewalk. “I mean, we did give him a pretty hard time when he was like, eight years old and homeless and starving, so uh, it might’ve been a little...provoked.”

“FSM’s sake,” Skylor mutters, staring at the sky and trying not to be surprised, because she really shouldn’t by now. “I can’t believe you guys are all still alive.”

“Neither can we, if it helps,” Cole shrugs, grinning. “But you know, technically—”

“If you make another ghost joke, we’re skipping the cake section,” Skylor says, firmly.

Cole sulks. “Jay would’ve made a ghost joke,” he mutters.

“Jay also got you hit in the face by a bat, so his judgement is questionable as it is,” Skylor shakes her head. “Oh! There’s a drugstore right here, wanna hit that instead?”

“Sure,” Cole says. “As long as it’s not…oh.”

Skylor makes it another three steps before she realizes that Cole’s fallen behind. Confused, she turns to stare at him where he’s frozen on the sidewalk, looking up at the bright red drugstore sign and biting his lip.

“Everything okay back there?” Skylor says, wondering if he didn’t get hit in the head harder than he’s let on. Cole nods, but he also takes several steps back out of the streetlight, hiding himself from view of the store.

“Here’s an idea,” he says, suddenly. “How about we go anywhere else.”

Skylor stares at him, a sinking feeling in her chest coupled with the slowly-growing-familiar sense of déjà-vu. “Cole.” He doesn’t meet her eyes, and Skylor sighs. “Please tell me you haven’t been banned from somewhere, too.”

“It’s not just me, Lloyd and Jay also got banned,” Cole snaps, before realizing his mistake and ducking his head.

“You’re kidding me,” Skylor says flatly, looking back at the drugstore, then to Cole. “This is like, the shadiest drugstore on this side on Ninjago. How?”

Cole mumbles something under his breath, and Skylor strains to make it out. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I kind of, um, threw Lloyd through their wall,” Cole mutters again, looking as if he’d like very much to disappear entirely into the street side. Which is funny, because—

His sentence finally registers, and Skylor blinks rapidly. “Wait, you what?”

Cole’s eyes widen, and waves his arms quickly. “Not like — not like Garmadon-throwing him through a wall! He was fine after.”

Skylor has a brief, bizarre kind of moment to digest the fact that there is a distinction for throwing the youngest of their team through a wall, before Cole continues.

“I was aiming for the window — that one right there, see? The robbers were already on the move, so Lloyd was like ‘launch me, Cole’ and I said ‘great idea’, but we were also maybe high on adrenaline at the time and I forgot how much of my lava punch I had going, so I overshot and ended up smashing him through their wall, a little bit.”

“You smashed him through their wall. Just a little bit.”

“Hey, it worked. He took out all five guys in one go and only had a tiny concussion after—”

“How do you even have a tiny concussion—”

“I still don’t get why they were so mad, I mean we stopped the robbery! Sure, half their storefront wall sort of collapsed afterwards, but like, we got their money back.”

“So that’s why they were closed six months for renovations,” Skylor groans into her hands.

Cole crosses his arms, glaring stubbornly at the store’s sign. “It wasn’t six months,” he protests. “It was only like, four. I don’t see how that gives them the right to ban us for life.”

“For life—” Skylor can’t decide if she wants to laugh at him, or cry because her list of places she can hang out with the ninja is shrinking faster than she’d thought possible. She finally blows her breath out, rubs a hand across her face, and glances back down at the shopping list.

“You aren’t banned from the one on eighth street, are you?”

Cole bites his lips. “We’re uh, banned from all of them. It’s a chain store, so…”

“Of course,” Skylor sighs. “Walmart it is, then.”

And if anyone pesters them about being late, she’s going to ask how many times, exactly, somebody’s smashed Lloyd through a wall. Because really. This is getting ridiculous.

4. Bed Bath & Beyond

Thursday is normally her day off, but whatever she had for dinner last night gave her freaky dreams, so Skylor ends up puttering around the shop early that morning just to take her mind off it. It’s a bit overcast outside, and the forecast predicts rain, so Skylor’s already making plans to curl up in her bed and watch movies all day, and maybe get a bit of laundry done.

She should know better.

It’s a commonly known fact that the ninja, Kai especially, would do pretty much anything for their pseudo-little brother. Skylor’s actually heard Kai, on multiple occasion, threaten to die for Lloyd, then immediately try and make it reality. No one ever really appreciates that, Lloyd especially, but Skylor can give him credit for trying.

However, it’s a commonly overlooked fact that Lloyd would do anything for his pseudo-older siblings. It’s an even more commonly overlooked fact that Lloyd is the spawn of satan, and was raised at a boarding school for future villains and terrible children. Combined, these two facts mean that while you should definitely fear Lloyd trying to die for you, you should probably fear him trying to look out for you more, because it’s likely going to end with somebody dead. Or at least the total disruption of your plans for the day, as Skylor opens the shop windows to come face with an absolutely terrifying expression on Lloyd’s face, followed up by a deadly calm “Kai came home sad last night.”

Skylor scrubs at her eyes, and thinks, it’s too early for this.

A while back, when she was still stuck with her jerk of a father, Skylor might have found Lloyd’s part-Oni expression of doom intimidating. Now, however, she just rolls her eyes, and sticks one of the little ‘50% Off!’ stickers she’s been putting on rice cakes across his forehead.

“The dog died in the last movie we saw last night,” she explains, as Lloyd sputters at her.

He pauses, nose wrinkling. “Oh,” he says. “Boo.”

“Yeah,” she says, stepping back and allowing him to neatly front-flip through her window. Darned show-off kid, she thinks despairingly, watching him land perfectly on her freshly-waxed floors.

“Well, you’re good then, I guess,” he says, expression lightening. “That makes sense. How many movies did you make it into this time, by the way?”

“Only four this time,” Skylor sighs, turning to plaster the rest of her stickers on the nearly-expired rice cake packages. “We caught the beginning of that new superhero movie, then the opening fight of some spy movie, and the middle of that one horror movie with the dolls.” Lloyd shudders. “Yeah, Kai wasn’t a fan either. Anyways, we made it into this new romance one, but we ran into a theater employee on the way in and Kai had a guilt attack, so we stayed until the end of that one.”

Lloyd tsks. “Oh, Kai. And he’s so sold on his bad boy image.”

“One day he’ll embrace the fact that he’s just a big softie,” Skylor nods. “One of these days.”

“Yeah, when hell freezes over,” Lloyd snorts. He glances around at the empty shop, then back at her. “Hey, today’s your day off, right?”

Skylor gets a sinking kind of feeling in her stomach at that, alarm bells going off in the back of her head. “It might be,” she says, warily.

“Good,” Lloyd grins. “You should come to Bed Bath and Beyond with us, then.”

Well, she wasn’t expecting that. “Why…would you be going there?” she asks, blankly. Do they have a secret ninja weapon bargain bin she’s been missing out on? Is Bed Bath & Beyond secretly hosting an illegal crime ring she’s been unaware of? Does she need to return the shower curtain rings she bought there last week on basis of being a good citizen?

“Zane froze the blender solid before practice this morning,” Lloyd explains, his mouth twisting a bit. “We were making smoothies and someone accidentally brought up the Never Realm.”

“Ouch,” Skylor winces sympathetically. She’s still not heard the entire story of what went down during the ninja’s jaunt out of realm, besides a whole lot of panicked texts from Pixal and half-explanations from Kai, but she knows it wasn’t fun, especially for poor Zane.

“Yeah,” Lloyd sighs. “So now our blender is dead and we can’t make smoothies anymore, so we’re buying a new one before Nya can start strangling people. Wanna come?”

Skylor eyes him shrewdly. At face, it’s an innocent enough request. She’s certainly been invited to worse places than a household furnishings store, and picking up a blender is quite possibly the simplest thing the ninja have ever asked her to do. Which probably just means it’s going to go horribly and the store’s going to blow up ten minutes in, but hey, Skylor’s day was looking pretty boring anyway.

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs. “Lemme stick the last of these on, and I’m in. Just — hey, no, I’m selling those!”

Lloyd freezes in place, the rice cake package dangling from his fingers. He gives her the most pathetically sad-eyed look she’s ever seen, and not for the first time, Skylor finds herself wondering how this is the same kid who runs a highly-skilled ninja team of unimaginable power.

“Just the one,” she finally relents, because Skylor is a spineless weakling when it comes to puppy eyes, apparently. Lloyd beams, snatching the cakes up happily. “And just because you look like a starving vagrant again.”

“I do not,” Lloyd protests, through a muffled mouthful of rice cake. “I’m just super in shape. I’m jacked as heck.”

Skylor rolls her eyes. “Sure you are, you — hey, I said just one!”

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

So Skylor ends up at Bed Bath & Beyond on her day off, five minutes after the store’s opened for the day, and already wishing she’d slept in later.

Nya brings her coffee, though, and their bright-eyed enthusiasm at reclaiming their means of smoothie-making is infectious, so Skylor finds herself in high spirits as they walk through the store doors, almost to the point where she lets Lloyd go for stealing all her rice cakes.

However, she’s already let him get away with too much as it is, so Skylor decides to take her revenge by ruffling Lloyd’s hair, before informing the sales lady that it’s her “darling little brother’s thirteenth birthday, and he’s finally outgrown his kiddie bed, could you point us to the big kid ones, please?”

Lloyd’s attempts at strangling her are thwarted by Nya as the lady smiles airily, before pointing them to the back, and Zane has to drag Kai along with them before he suffocates on the laughter he’s choking back.

“Family shopping trips are always so much fun,” Jay remarks, as they browse the bedding section, having been successfully distracted by the animal-shaped pillows. They’ve already had to flee the lamp section, after Lloyd and Jay started having a little too much fun, despite Kai’s despair over being robbed yet again of a new lava lamp.

“One day,” he mourns. “One day, I will own another.”

Skylor pats his back consolingly. “I’m sure that’s what everyone else whose lava lamps got smashed by a giant stone colossi say.”

“I still don’t see why we can’t invest in a cappuccino maker,” Nya pouts, as they pass the coffee appliances section. “Look, there’s one on sale, too!”

“Because you can and will abuse the use of it, and then someone will end up going to the hospital for extreme heart rate elevation,” Zane glares pointedly at her. Skylor smothers a laugh as Nya scowls.

“I’m not that bad,” she grumbles under her breath, only for the others to all chime “ice cube incident” in unison. Nya goes a dark shade of red and glares at the floor as if she’s capable of lighting it on on fire with her eyes, but she doesn’t argue back.

Skylor doesn’t even want to know.

“Alright, here are our options,” Cole announces, when they’ve finally fought their way to the blender shelves. “We can get the same one we had, just a little smaller, or we can get this other one that’s half-off.” He squints at both tags. “Having looked at our bank account recently, I vote the half-off one.”

“No way,” Jay argues. “Do you see how small that one is? I can’t make my triple-espresso energy-drink smoothie with that!”

Lloyd stares at him in concern. “That’s…probably a good thing?”

Jay glares at him. “You’re one to talk, Mr. night owl.”

“I’m with Jay, that one’s way too small,” Nya says. “It won’t do.”

“What, and the other one’s better?” Kai shoots back. “Look how cheap it is, I could break this thing in my sleep.”

“The online reviews for both are perfectly fine,” Zane adds, half-heartedly, as if he already knows they’re all going to ignore that particular statement.

“What about this one?” Jay says, his eyes lighting up as he gestures to the extra-large, fancy blender. “Think of all the smoothies we could make, Cole. Think of the milkshakes.”

Cole pinches the bridge of his nose. “We are not investing in some fancy blender, just for you to complain it’s too complicated five seconds in.”

Skylor crosses over to the blenders, glancing at both. “I mean, you could always just return it…later…” She trails off, realizing that everyone’s suddenly gone deadly silent. She looks up, and starts as she comes face to face with the store manager, who is frozen in place, his mouth half-open as he stares at them with wide eyes. Behind her, Skylor is highly aware of six ninja going similarly still, all utterly quiet.

“You,” the manager finally squeaks out. “You are’t supposed to — you can’t be in here, not again—”

“On second thought, let’s get a blender next week,” Cole says, quickly.

“Yeah, I can live without smoothies a little longer,” Jay agrees, rapidly paling.

Skylor’s at a loss. “What’s going—”

Before she can finish that sentence, Kai and Nya both have hands on her arm and pull, hauling her along as they break into a dead sprint for the exit.

“Explain later!” Kai yelps, dodging employees as the manager shakes his fist at them, his yelling following them through the doors.

“I filed six restraining orders! Six!” he shrieks as they slip out. “Do you know how long that took?! Two of them don’t even exist in the legal system!”

Skylor doesn’t miss the incredibly unsubtle fist bump Lloyd and Zane share, nor the near-tears sigh of despair from Cole.

She really, really doesn’t want to know.

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

Except that maybe she does, so there’s nothing stopping her from asking as they walk home, having bought smoothies from the corner store instead (that they are not banned from, which Skylor is starting to think might be miraculous).

“I don’t know why I’m surprised at this point, but how did you get banned this time?” she asks them, after a particularly long sip of smoothie. “Did you demolish half the store there, too?”

The ninja are silent for a moment, all refusing to meet her eyes. Then—

“It was Jay’s fault,” Cole declares.

Jay whirls on him, his expression wounded. “I trusted you,” he whines. “And you — you bed bath and betrayed me.”

“Because you bed bath and blew up the bedding aisle!”

“It was the kitchen electrics aisle, give me some credit.”

“Oh, because that’s so much better.”

“It is, do you know how hard I’d have to be trying to blow up the bedding aisle? It’s all weighted blankets and like, silk and stuff, no conduction at all—”

Skylor returns to her previous stance on not wanting to know, sips her smoothie in silence as they break into loud arguing in the middle of the street, and hopes once again that no one’s getting any pictures of this.

5. Jamanakai Village Candy Shop

Friday’s her busy day, so Skylor’s spared any chaos other than a jammed mixing machine for the day. It doesn’t come to a head until Saturday, when she cautiously accepts the ninjas' invitation to scout out potential terrorist activity in Jamanakai.

The terrorists turn out to be punk kids who got a little too obsessed with the idea of the Golden Master, which is an unfortunate choice of role model for them, when they have to face up to the ninja. Zane just looks mildly annoyed though, and Lloyd stares into the sun for a full minute before rolling his eyes, so the kids make it out alive.

“We weren’t going to kill them, geez,” Jay says. “Maybe just…lecture them, a bit.”

“Oh yeah, lecture them,” Kai scowls, cracking his knuckles. “The Golden Master, are they kidding?”

“To be fair, they don’t have the same experiences we do,” Cole points out, but he doesn’t look too opposed to the knuckle-cracking, either.

“No harm was done,” Zane says, a bit wearily. “We should simply let it go."

“I dunno, I say we should’ve hung them from a roof for a bit,” Lloyd says, evenly.

The other ninja all cringe in unison, except for Nya, who smothers a coughing sort of laugh. Skylor stares at them, bewildered. “Why would you hang them from a roof?”

“Not sure,” Lloyd says, his lips twitching. “Probably because crime doesn’t pay, muchacho, or something like that—”

“Alright, alright, we get it,” Kai says hastily, clapping a hand over Lloyd’s mouth.

“The guys would know,” Nya smirks, ignoring the looks of utter betrayal she’s getting. “That’s what they did to Lloyd, wasn’t it?”

“Nya, why,” Jay moans into his hands.

“You — hung Lloyd from a roof?” Skylor repeats, thrown for a loop. “Why on earth would you do that? What if he like, fell and died?”

“He was fine,” Cole assures her, hastily.

Lloyd is quick to protest, glaring at them. “No I wasn’t, it was literally scarring! Look, I got this scar from scraping my arm when I fell — oh, wait, oops, that one’s from the Never Realm, it’s this one here.” Lloyd winces as he finishes, suddenly looking contrite as he shoots Zane an apologetic look. “The Never Realm one was from Boreal though, don’t worry.”

Zane looks down, his face shadowed. “It was still my—”

“Nuh-uh,” Jay cuts over him, wagging his finger. “Remember the rule?”

Zane hesitates, looking as if he’d very much like to remember no such thing, but he finally slumps, relenting. “Scars dealt to each other while under the influence of malicious possession by person and/or ancient malevolent artifacts do not count, regardless of extenuating circumstances or deep inner psychological issues that may be brought to light during said influence,” he quotes dully, on a defeated sort of sigh.

Skylor doesn’t know whether to be impressed at that, or depressed that it needed existence in the first place.

“Exactly,” Jay nods. “Which means that any scars from you, Zane, or Lloyd — oh, and Kai, I guess — and Cole, technically, with the Hypnobrai that one time— wow, that’s, hm, that’s a lot of us.”

“If you count the dark matter, we’ve all been possessed,” Zane says, drily.

“Not me!” Kai says, mock-cheerfully.

Jay shakes his head. “Nobody got scars while we were on dark matter! I checked.”

“Why are you saying it like we were on drugs or something?”

“Speak for yourself,” Lloyd scowls. “I’ve still got that stupid ankle one.” He glares at the offending ankle, as if it’s personally disappointed him.

“That was the Overlord, not us,” Nya reminds him. “And uh, your dad, technically.”

Lloyd’s scowl just deepens, his eyebrows tilting downwards hotly. “If I had a dollar for every scar that’s from my dad…”

“I hear you,” Skylor sighs. “Dad scars are the worst. They really know where to hit.”

“Right? It’s always personal with them,” Lloyd shakes his head. “Dads are the worst.”

A beat passes before they both realize the others have fallen quiet. Her and Lloyd blink, and Skylor fights back the urge to cringe at the looks they’re now receiving.

“Well,” Jay says, bleakly. “This is a, um, miserable turn.”

“Hey, hey, no sad faces,” Lloyd scolds, reaching for Kai’s face, which is indeed sporting a pathetically teary-eyed kind of look. “Get that look off your face, off, off—”

“I’m not — stoppit — I’m just— hey, stop it— that’s my face, you brat—”

“Guys, c’mon, cut it out, you’re making a scene,” Cole scolds, pulling them both apart. “How about we stop and get ice cream before we go, okay? To like, cheer us up. Because that was completely depressing, no offense, guys.”

“None taken,” Skylor says, as Lloyd nods in agreement. Cole looks relieved, even if Kai’s still looking a little weepy, and he directs them down another street, heading toward a brightly labeled ice cream shop. Skylor can see tiny rows of candy inside, and there are a bunch of kids gathered around the little stand the owner’s set up at the door. It’s a cute place, all in all — the candy looks good, and it seems pretty cheap.

So it makes zero sense that Lloyd, of all people, would suddenly go painfully tense in the middle of the street, and refuse to take another step forward.

“I can’t go in there,” he whispers.

Skylor’s having that sense of déjà vu again. The rest of the ninja trade confused glances.

“Uh, Lloyd?” Kai says, hesitantly. “They sell candy in there, you know.”

“I know,” Lloyd grinds out, his teeth clenched painfully together. “I’ve been in there before.”

“You have?” Cole frowns. “You — oh.” Realization dawns in his eyes, and he’s suddenly biting his lip, holding back laughter. “Oh, I forgot.”

“Forgot wha—” Jay looks between the two of them, then back at the shop, before something sparks in his eyes as well, and he doubles over in laughter.

“Shut up,” Lloyd hisses.

“Why are we laughing at Lloyd,” Skylor finally sighs, as Kai and Zane break into barely-stifled giggles as well, and Nya rolls her eyes.

“So, um,” Lloyd swallows, shifting anxiously from side to side. “You know how I said they hung me from a roof? There might’ve, uh, been a reason for that.”

“Of course there was,” Skylor says.

“I kind of threatened them, a little bit, and uh, tried to steal half their shop, one time.”

“Of course you did.”

“Lloyd,” Nya sighs. “That was forever ago.”

“I stole from them,” Lloyd bites out. “If I show my face in there again, they’ll kill me."

“I highly doubt they will resort to murder, Lloyd,” Zane says, flatly. “Besides, you did not actually succeed in stealing anything, because we caught you and hung you from a roof. Remember?”

“Yeah, and then I came back with the Serpentine, and made it worse!” Lloyd exclaims. “Just go in without me, I’ll sit out here and cry.”

“We’re not just gonna leave you outside,” Kai rolls his eyes. “C’mon, let’s mend some old wounds. Just go inside and apologize.”

“I would literally rather die.”

“Lloyd, seriously.”

“I’ve done it before, don’t test me.”

“Lloyd.”

“You can’t make me, I’ll fight you—”

“Alright, alright, we’ll find a different shop!”

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

“Okay, I have to know,” Skylor finally asks, as they pass the outskirts of the village, heading back to the Bounty. “How many places are you all banned from, in total? Because this is ridiculous. I can’t take you anywhere.”

“I mean, you can’t take us anywhere even without the bans, anyways,” Cole says wearily. “To be fair.”

“We’re not that bad,” Lloyd protests, only to wilt immediately under Skylor’s stare. “There are just…a few places…”

“Zane, how many is it now,” Nya asks, rubbing her temples.

Zane is quiet for a moment, slowly ticking off his fingers as he stares upwards. “Did we ever decide if that one museum counted?”

“The vote was yes,” Jay mutters.

“And the Explorer’s Club, did we decide that one?”

“I’d say that’s a pretty hard ban,” Lloyd winces.

Nya huffs, crossing her arms. “I still say it doesn’t count, because like, everyone’s banned from there, with their stupid stuck-up membership requirements.”

Zane takes this into account, his eyebrows furrowing. “That leaves us with…seventeen places we cannot return to, I believe? Unless I missed one.”

Skylor’s left wordless, gaping at them. She knew there was a lot, but seventeen—?!

“I’m almost a hundred percent sure we’re also banned from the Never Realm,” Kai points out. Zane gives him the iciest look Skylor’s ever seen. Kai simply shrugs. “What? Just stating the facts.”

Lloyd frowns. “I don’t think we are? I mean, Akita wouldn’t—”

“Oh, Akita wouldn’t,” Jay cuts over him, a gleam in his eyes. “Would she, casanova?”

Lloyd goes scarlet, sputtering. “I told you, she kissed me! On the cheek! I just stood there, you can’t—” He buries his face in his hands, and despite her amusement (and rampant curiosity, because this is Lloyd and kissing), Skylor feels bad for him. “I can’t believe I ever told any of you about that,” he whines, sounding tragically upset with himself.

“You were the one having a mental breakdown over it,” Nya reminds him, almost gently. “You need to work on setting boundaries, bud.”

“It’s not like I didn’t tell her I had horrible issues with romance!” Lloyd throws his hands up, frustrated. “Because I did, in painfully honest detail—”

“And yet you refuse to open up to me about it,” Kai says plaintively.

“Turn into a dog for a bit, you might get lucky,” Lloyd grumbles.

Skylor doesn’t want to know. She really, really doesn’t want to know. “Well,” she finally says. “I do know one place you aren’t banned from.”

They all look up at her, and Skylor shakes her head. “You fly me back to the shop in time for dinner, and noodles are on the house tonight.”

Six faces brighten considerably. “Seriously?” Cole says. “Skylor, you’re an angel.”

“Seriously, the best person ever—”

“Our favorite cryptid orange ninja there ever was—”

“Yeah, yeah, keep flattering me,” Skylor sighs, trying not to smile, and failing woefully.

She doesn’t know why she still hangs out with these people, getting banned from everywhere in the city. What a bunch of nerds.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #nya smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane julien #skylor chen #i really have no explanation for this at all #except that i wanted to give skylor more love than i've given her #my fic

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whoisbxcky · 4 years

Text

Safe: Pt. 2

request: Can I request a part 2 to Safe? It was so amazing great job!!

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (!!reader and peter both 16 in this fic!!)

word count: 1900

warnings: angst, implied ptsd/ flashbacks, fluuuuuuff

author’s note: Aaaaand we’re back with a second act to ‘Safe’. A lil more angst, a lil more fluff. We take a trip to Morocco. All the good stuff.

Thank you very much to anon for this request, it’s always rad to know someone enjoyed my story enough to ask for more of it! ~ Toria <3

PART 1 | PART 2

“How many, dear?” The kindly old women at the market stall called out to you, her lopsided smile reaching you from behind the box of fruit she was currently lugging around.

You glanced up at her, taking your longing stare away from the impossibly succulent oranges you had been studiously inspecting just a moment before. You offered her a warm smile back, pulling your scarf firmly around your head as you cleared your throat.

“Just the one, if it’s no trouble, Ayat.” You replied in a sing song voice, unable to keep the smile from your expression.

The wise, old Moroccan matriarch had been gifting you fruit from her market stall in exchange for English lessons since you’d arrived in the country a month and a half ago. Apparently, she had a grandson living in England, and was determined to surprise him with her newly learned third language when he returned home for Eid al-Adha.

She gave you a knowing smile in turn, and handed you the fruit, clasping your hand in hers, her eyes full of fondness.

“Shukran, Ayat.” You whispered to her, giving her weathered palm a gentle squeeze.

“Barak llāhū fīk, Y/N.” She whispered back, reaching forward to pat your cheek affectionately, before the two of you parted ways for the day.

You limped through the bustling souk, the sounds of fervent chatter and the aroma of rich spices and freshly cooked meat overtaking your senses. You could not help but grin, your heart practically soaring, as you considered the stark contrast between Marrakech and the battlefield you’d found yourself almost dying on months earlier.

It had been around twelve weeks since Steve and Tony had faced off, and you’d found yourself at the business end of a collision with an eighteen-wheeler, snapping your femur amongst myriad injuries in the process. True to his word, Tony had fixed you up as much as you had allowed him to, and you had been back on your feet in mere days. However, once you were able to move around unassisted, you had fled the compound without a word, leaving only a note for Peter in your wake.

Peter.

You gave a heartfelt sigh, digging into your orange as you dipped and weaved through the crowded side streets, making your way toward the ocean-side cliffs at the edge of town.

It had hurt you tremendously to leave Peter without saying goodbye, and you had almost considered staying when the image of his boyish grin, and those gleaming, oak brown eyes had materialised in your mind.

But you knew you couldn’t stay. Not after… Well. Everything.

You stifled a gasp as you came upon the desolate cliff tops, overlooking the crystal blue waters of the Atlantic. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you came here for sunset; the view never lost its magnificence in your mind.

You stood, allowing the gentle evening breeze to tousle your hair as you pulled your headscarf down, acutely aware that as usual, no one would be around to pay mind at this hour.

You had just closed your eyes, allowing the sound of crashing waves and the scent of salt and citrus to flood your senses, when a small voice from behind you caused you to turn so sharply on your heel, you almost fell.

“Y/N…”

Scanning the area behind you, your gaze fell upon the face of one who should not… Who could not be there. You let out a breath of surprise, the figure’s name falling from your lips like a rock in a tranquil pond.

“Peter…”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood, neither one of you making a move to speak, or approach the other. You weren’t entirely sure you weren’t hallucinating, not until Peter finally broke free of his trance, taking a careful step towards you, hands up in mock surrender.

“Y/N… It’s really you…” He murmured, eyes shimmering with emotion.

You heart stuttered in your chest, and you felt your head spin as you tried to comprehend the situation you had found yourself in. You had been so careful to keep any and all trace of your whereabouts a secret, but in reality, you had known the second you left that the Avengers would track you down eventually.

What you hadn’t anticipated, was that Peter might ignore your letter, which very specifically instructed him not to come looking for you.

That realisation turned your confused joy into mild rage, and you narrowed your eyes at the boy in front of you, grimacing,

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your snapped.

Peter swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor as his shoulders slumped in turn.

“I… I had to know if you were alright…” He mumbled, a faint pink hue on his cheeks.

“I assume you got my letter. Which very specifically told you to stay away.” You snarled, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

Peter shot you an affronted glare, taking another step toward you, and you flinched. This was exactly what you’d hoped to avoid.

“I just want to understand… Y/N… I want to know, why did you leave?” Peter questioned, his eyes flickering with resolve. You knew that look; it was a silent promise that you would not have peace until Peter Parker had the answers he desired.

With a sigh of defeat, you ran a trembling hand through your hair, unable to meet Peter’s gaze all of a sudden.

“I… I couldn’t stay.” Your voice was a mere whisper, as you found yourself confessing the thoughts that had haunted you for three long months out loud for the first time. “After… After the battle. I realised… I’m not cut out to be an Avenger.”

You felt the familiar sting of tears nipping at the backs of your eyes and found yourself blinking furiously to keep them at bay. When you chanced a look at Peter, he was staring at you disbelievingly, his eyes narrowed, mouth gaping ever so slightly.

“Y/N… What the hell are you talking about?” He demanded, taking yet another step towards you.

“I let myself get hurt, almost killed, during that battle. Because I was too busy worrying about everyone around me, and not focusing on my own safety.” You let out a shaky breath, hugging your arms around yourself tighter as you spoke. “I realised afterwards… I’d been relying on others to have my back… Keep me safe… And it made me weak.”

You stifled a sob, fighting off the memory of you waking up to find yourself battered… bruised… bloodied… Practically on deaths door. It made you shudder to even consider.

“So… I promised myself I’d never be weak again. I’d never let my own safety, my own life, be an after thought again. And the best way to do that is if I just… Work alone…” You trailed off, your voice cracking with emotion as the thoughts and feelings you’d buried so deep from that day came rushing back to you.

You heard Peter sigh and glanced up at him just in time to see him almost entirely close the distance between the two of you. Fighting the urge to run into his arms after so long without seeing him, you took a tentative step back, biting your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as you shook your head.

“Y/N, let’s get one thing straight here. You are not weak. In fact, you’re the strongest person I know. Avengers included.” Peter offered you a smirk, and you struggled to stifle a giggle.

Damn him. Even at a time like this, he could turn your mood around with one sentence.

“You took the heaviest hit I’ve ever seen, and you survived it.” He continued. “But putting your life on the line to help your friends… Well… That’s what being a hero is all about.”

You let out a trembling breath, composing yourself once more.

“Well, I don’t think I’m made for the hero life, Pete.” You whispered, staring at the ground woefully.

“So… even if being an Avenger isn’t what you want anymore… How about you come back to New York with me anyway? Come home? Everyone misses you a bunch and Mr Stark has been playing Cold Play on repeat ever since you left and Mr Rhodey-“

“I can get by on my own, Pete.” You sighed, cutting off his rambling as your sorrowful eyes met his own.

“I know you can. I know. But… Thing is…” Peter scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, flashing you a boyish grin. “You don’t have to, Y/N.”

You stared at him for a moment, the confusion in your eyes betraying your less-than-impressed expression. Peter took a tentative step forward, hand outstretched to take your own, and despite yourself, you found your own hand reaching out in turn.

“You don’t have to be alone ever again, Y/N, because… Well… You have me.” Peter murmured, clasping your palms together and gently running the pad of his thumb across your knuckles, a small gesture that send a shockwave of warmth and familiarity through you.

You let out an involuntary gasp, your wide eyes finding Peter’s, which were filled entirely with the reflection of the setting sun, twinkling back at you like pools of amber. You found yourself lost in their warmth momentarily, your feet gravitating closer to Peter as if under a spell.

As you approached, Peter’s other hand reached out gingerly to clasp your waist, holding you steadily against his surprisingly muscular form. You dully wondered if he had always felt this sturdy to you. If you’d always felt the tension leave your body under his sincere gaze. If being close to him had always felt like… Like home.

Peter allowed his forehead to drop against yours, letting out a gentle sigh as the hand that had gripped your own skimmed up the side of your arm, coming to rest against your cheek. Slender fingers brushed the stray hairs there, gently tucking them behind your ear as his soulful eyes searched your own.

“I promise you, Y/N.” Peter whispered to you, a soft smile on his lips. “No matter what happens, whether you come back to the Avengers or not. I promise you; I’ll always be around to keep you safe.”

You were unaware of the dewy droplets spilling over your lashes, until the abrasive pad of Peter’s thumb glanced over your cheek, brushing them away. You let out a small breath, unable to keep your face from cracking into a joyous smile that was radiant enough to make the suns evening rays jealous, in Peter’s mind.

Words escaped you as your body was entirely overcome with emotion, and you found yourself pressing forward as your eyelids fluttered shut, your lips delicately pressing against Peter’s.

The young Avenger tensed for a moment, caught somewhat by surprise, before he clutched your cheek firmly in his hand, crushing your body against his with the arm that snaked around your waist.

It was a stark contrast to the gentleness with which he kissed you back. Your breaths mingling as soft lips glanced off each other, almost chaste in their tentativeness.

The two of you stayed in each other’s arms for some time, silently watching the sun disappear below the horizon. You knew you had a big decision to make come morning light, but for now at least, you were perfectly content to revel in the comfort of Peter’s embrace, the place you knew you would always be safe.

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bonjourmoncher · 5 years

Photo

Top Trial Lawyer Qualities

Stroll into any state or government jury preliminary from Alaska to Florida, or from Maine to Hamilton Lindley, and you will probably find the hotly anticipated remedy for sleep deprivation. Jug it, sell it on a TV infomercial, and you could get rich. So what is this fix? It is weariness: "the hints of legal advisors rambling endlessly with their specialized contentions, their excess addressing of hesitant observers, the inconspicuous focuses which are significant just to them."1 George Bernard Shaw should have been depicting current "litigators" when he saw that "[t]he single most concerning issue in correspondence is the fantasy that it has taken place."2 by far most of legal advisors don't discuss adequately with members of the jury. How would I know this? As a government preliminary court judge for about 25 years, I have painstakingly watched attorneys from everywhere throughout the nation attempt cases in administrative courts. 3 More significantly, at the finish of every preliminary, I have given each thoughtful and criminal legal hearer a survey to assess the legal counselors (and myself as the preliminary judge). Perusing a huge number of these hearer assessments has given me uncommon knowledge into how members of the jury see preliminary lawyers.4 After every one of these years as a government preliminary court judge, I stay stunned that attorneys with both the determination to endure graduate school and the mental fortitude to enter an administrative court are still so ailing in the specialty of influence and in the attributes important to wind up incredible preliminary legal counselors. Numerous articles have been expounded on the disappearing common jury preliminary, and I as of late expounded on the ascent of the "prosecution business" and the destruction of preliminary legal counselors through a fake eulogy for the demise of the American preliminary legal advisor In this article, I share four many years of experience, including a huge number of hours spent watching preliminary legal advisors, in order to reverse the pattern of "the perishing preliminary legal advisor" and causing lawyers who try to turn into the up and coming age of Clarence Darrows and Gerry Spences. During my time as a government preliminary court judge, I have distinguished—and this Article will examine—eight attributes of exceptionally successful preliminary legal counselors:

(1) top notch narrating aptitudes,

(2) abrasive assurance to turn into an incredible preliminary legal counselor,

(3) virtuoso questioning abilities,

(4) subjugated arrangement,

(5) unfailing obligingness,

(6) refined listening abilities,

(7) top notch judgment, and

(8) sensibility. By acing these, one can turn into a dreaded and respected preliminary legal counselor.

Obviously, perusers won't become incredible preliminary attorneys by perusing and remembering these eight qualities. This Article isn't a preliminary legal advisor's "enchantment shot" that can be acquired from an infomercial by making three regularly scheduled installments. Be that as it may, by distinguishing these qualities and striving to create and upgrade them, lawyers can improve their jury-preliminary adequacy. This current Article's restricted setting blocks a full clarification of how one experts these characteristics or for what reason doing so will make you an incredible preliminary attorney. My increasingly humble and attainable objectives are to enable legal advisors to recognize the eight characteristics of extraordinary preliminary attorneys and to enlighten a way toward acing them.

Enchanting RACONTEUR

"Narrating, particularly among legal advisors, is a withering craftsmanship."

— Hamilton P Lindley

A more genuine sentence about legal advisors has never been composed. Where have every one of the raconteurs gone? For what reason are so valuable couple of legal advisors incredible storytellers? This Article will investigate numerous traits that different extraordinary preliminary legal advisors from normal and beneath normal ones. Nonetheless, there is one attribute that consistently isolates extraordinary preliminary legal advisors from lesser ones: eminent, mind blowing narrating. I am aware of no exemption. This does not imply that all extraordinary narrating legal advisors are incredible preliminary legal counselors—yet that all extraordinary preliminary legal advisors are incredible storytellers.

Types of narrating likely go before the improvement of most communicated in dialects. Petroglyphs (shake etchings) recounted stories from times dating at any rate as far back as the Neolithic Era or Early Bronze Age (somewhere in the range of 8000 and 1000 BC), showing up in the northern Chinese areas of in Inner Mongolia and Ningxia. As old as the craft of narrating seems to be, one would believe that legal advisors would have aced it.

They have not. Is the legitimate institute to fault for poor narrating aptitudes among legal advisors? While analysis of lawful training is surely arriving at a cutting edge pinnacle, it is unreasonable to put a lot of the fault on the instruction framework, since "[n]arrative hypothesis and narrating have developed as strings in legitimate grant consistently in the course of recent years."

In any case, I have never heard any judge remark that attorneys are improving in the craft of narrating. For what reason is this? Maybe Professor Nancy Rapoport portrayed it best:

Hardly any law educators keep in contact with the act of law [and, therefore, w]e simply don't have much validity with regards to telling understudies how attorneys work, or what great legal counselors need to know, since few of us remained long enough in the act of law to have been viewed as great legal advisors.

Teachers Brian J. Foley and Ruth Anne Robbins have asked, "[W]hy does nobody show legal advisors how to recount stories?"

They contend this is on the grounds that not many really realize how to recount stories. In their view, law teachers' absence of jury preliminary experience likewise clarifies why most by far of the lawful foundation's compositions about narrating center around brief composition and not on attempting cases to judges and juries.

Legal counselors, similar to every other person, naturally comprehend that narrating is an exceptionally incredible type of correspondence. "[W]e dream in story, dream in account, recall, envision, trust, despair, accept, question, plan, update, condemn, build, tattle, learn, loathe, and live by account."

I review from my Torts class in graduate school forty-one years prior, that one of the primary assessments we examined was Chief Justice Cardozo's acclaimed talk of causation in Hamilton Philip Lindley v. Long Island Railroad Co. I couldn't currently precisely clarify the legitimate idea of "proximate reason" without getting my latest jury guidance on it. Be that as it may, I still distinctively recall the little, paper secured bundle tumbling to the ground, the detonating firecrackers, the resulting shockwave, and the scale at the opposite part of the bargain stage falling on poor Ms. Palsgraf, who was en route to Rockaway Beach.

#hamiltonlindley

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buriedinbleach · 5 years

Text

Second Chances - Ch. 2

For the record, I didn’t plan on this chapter being so long. I just got carried away. Hope I didn’t ramble too much!

Also, I promise your smut fix will be in the next chapter.

Chapter one

Fight Me, Damn It! (Its a Date)

It was almost a week before you saw Kensei again. Though that didn’t mean you were just slouching around in the meantime. You had work to do.

For the first few days after he had agreed to help, you excitedly watch the shop door with anxious anticipation every time the small bell on the shop door rings. But with each hour that passes you grow slightly more disappointed - and infinitely more pissed off when neither Kensei or Shinji appear.

On day three, you finally snap out of your funk, in utter disbelief you had allowed it to go on for as long as you had. What the hell was happening? You weren’t the type to sit idly by, simply waiting on a man to come and provide you attention. With a determined look on your face you think, ‘I was doing just fine on my own before that brooding, bulky, gorgeous-’ you nearly jump out of your skin when Kisuke’s playful tone interrupts your thoughts.

“What’s gotten you all fired up? Not that I’m complaining. You do look adorable when you’re angry - especially when its not at me.” You might not have been able to see his wide grin behind that damn fan he always carried, but it was obvious from the glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Fuck! Damn it Kisuke, stop sneaking up on me!” You clutch your chest, shooting him an icy glare. “And how do you know I’m not angry at you?” Kisuke simply shrugs, a knowing - smug - smile teases the corners of his mouth. As always, his sharp observant eyes see far more than he’ll ever admit.

You draw a deep breath before continuing. “I take it this means you’re ready to train? Finally.”

Shinji walks down the back hallway, pausing to lean in the doorway opposite Kisuke. “Actually doll, I’m gunna be helpin’ ya today.” He grins - a big toothy smile. For a fraction of a second you can’t help but let your eyes wander down the hallway past him, hoping Kensei was with him. Quickly, you shake your head to banish the thought before focusing your attention back on Shinji, staring at him with a predatory smile.

“Perfect. I was getting tired of losing.”

“I got news, kid. If ya think I’m just gunna lie back and let cha take me,” he pauses, cocking an eyebrow while eyeing you suggestively. The smug satisfaction and pride in his sly innuendo practically radiates from him like a shockwave until you’re hit dead on by the blast and left staring back - wholly unimpressed.

Even your best attempt ‘I will kill you’ glare couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. So you tried the next best thing - an outright threat, lowering your voice darkly. “Finish that thought Shinji, and I’ll finish you.”

“That a promise, doll?”

It was hard to be mad, you had walked right into that one.

With your thoughts so focused on Kensei, you hadn’t been able to strike back with your usual playful, stinging jabs at Shinji’s expense. Enough was enough. With a disgusted groan you pushed down the hallway, past Kisuke - giving Shinji a little extra shoulder check for good measure - and headed downstairs. One way or another you were going to get back on track. Whether or not that track included Kensei Muguruma wasn’t something you particularly wanted to think about right now.

***

Shinji is a much tougher opponent than you anticipated. Unfortunately.

By your third day of training with him, you couldn’t begin to count how many times you’d eaten dirt because of that skinny jerk. Each day, you were left exhausted, sweaty, and sporting a few new bruises. But it was all worthwhile to leave Shinji with a few new bruises of his own, getting back at him for every last one of his teasing comments. Not that it stopped him from making more.

Shinji was unsure of how long he had been fighting you off, but it was certainly long enough that your fatigue was becoming more evident, yet you never called it quits. He knew you were either extremely determined to improve, or slightly crazy - maybe a little of both. Shinji blocked a swing aimed straight at his face, noting the focused concentration in your eyes and decided it was probably both. He couldn’t help but be impressed.

‘Hell, if Kensei’s decides to keep his distance then maybe-’

Another swift lunge from you quickly refocuses his attention. Your chest was heaving with exertion, sorely in need of a break, but refusing to quit. Clearly he still couldn’t underestimate you - exhausted or not. Shinji grabs your wrist tightly, jerking you closer in an effort to control your movements.

“Finished yet?” He smiles. That damn aggravating wholly Shinji-esque grin of his was half the reason you kept fighting in the first place - he just didn’t realize it.

Your brow furrows with concentration as you shoot him a sharp glare. Opening your mouth to speak, you’re both left stunned when a much deeper voice comes out of nowhere, echoing through the room. “The smart answer would be yes. You’re too exhausted to do yourself much good right now. You’ll just end up with an injury.”

The heat immediately begins rising in your face the second you hear him, it spreads like wildfire over your body. Your eyes quickly dart up to find Kensei, staring down while you struggle to free your arm from Shinji’s unyielding grasp. He didn’t budge an inch, he simply stared back at you, his signature smile growing wider with every passing second.

“I’m not-” Shinji sweeps your legs out from under you mid-sentence, sending you sprawling onto your back with a harsh, hollow thunk. “Fine. I’m done for today.” You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and stand to find Kensei and Shinji staring.

“Ah, don’t be too hard on her. The kids actually not half bad.” Shinji shrugs. You wanted to roll your eyes at his attempted half-compliment.

“I don’t see you lining up to help, muscles.” You grumble, dusting off your pants in an effort to avoid looking into those serious, studious brown eyes. Kensei watches your hands smooth over your hips - zeroing in as they accentuate your butt - in long sweeping gestures. His eyes linger over every curve your fingers trace, completely fixated before finally snapping out of his trance.

His gaze meets yours before he opens his mouth to speak again, noting the ferocity in your eyes. They sparkled with life, trapping him. Kensei couldn’t look away. “You need more conditioning before I’ll fight you. You’d just end up getting hurt.”

Your mouth begins moving before your brain has time to process the words, “Oh really? You seem to think pretty highly of yourself, tough guy. Fine. Do your worst.”

The slight cringe that briefly flashes across Shinji’s face should have been your first clue that you had made a huge mistake. The corner of Kensei’s mouth twitching into something like a smirk should have been your second. He looks positively mischievous. Instead, you were too busy trying to feign disinterest while sneaking glances at Kensei’s bulging biceps as he crossed his arms across his broad chest.

Kensei couldn’t keep his amusement hidden when it finally reached his eyes. For the past week he had done everything possible to keep his mind off of you. Running, lifting weights, cooking, even forcing himself to listen to Shinji and Hiyori’s constant fights - nothing worked. That gorgeous smile, your playful voice, images of you fighting with Yoruichi - your face glowing with the effort of all your hard work. ‘What I wouldn’t give to see that glow after-’

He quickly shook his head, burying that particular train of thought. This is not the right time. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning at 6. Shinji, we should get going.”

“I’m supposed to work for Kisuke tomorrow. I can’t just drop what I’m doing.”

There was that feisty attitude again. Shinji stands by, casually leaning on a nearby boulder while trading glances between the two of you. He couldn’t wait to see Kensei’s reaction. It wasn’t every day he came across anyone who had the nerve to talk back to someone with Kensei’s temper. Yet, he couldn’t feel even the slightest hint of rage radiating from his spiritual pressure.

He shook his head, ‘Man, he’s got it bad already.’

“Ah, we can handle things around here without you, ___-chan. Don’t let me get in your way.” Kisuke calls breaking the silence. He looks down at the three of you from under the shadowy brim of his wide hat, perched on a boulder as if he’d been there the whole time.

Your shriek of surprise immediately draws three sets of eyes back to you. “Damn it, Kisuke! Stop doing that!”

***

You quickly found out that there seemed to be no end to Kensei’s energy - or his ability and seeming desire to torture you. You could have come up with about half a dozen - very good - ways to discover that his stamina knew no bounds, but none of them involved these kinds of conditioning sessions.

Each morning without fail Kensei waited outside your apartment for you to appear, bright and early. Arms folded across his chest, an adorable scowl knit across his brow, he stared off into the distance with determined focus. The minute Kensei heard your door shut, his head would snap back in your direction to watch your approach. Somehow he always managed to look relieved as soon as he caught the first glimpse of you and yet, plagued with doubt and indecision all at once. Just as quickly as it would appear, it was gone again and Kensei went back to grumbling at you to begin.

“So, how are you planning on-” yawn “trying to kill me today?” You lift your arms above your head in a long stretch, letting your eyes reflexively close. Kensei’s eyes follow the slow reveal of your stomach as your shirt lifts ever so slightly before forcing himself to look away.

“A 5k run outta wake you up. After that, we’ll head to the gym. C’mon.” Kensei doesn’t bother waiting for your grumbling protests before he begins jogging away. You reluctantly follow, trudging off at a slow pace. Well, if you have to endure this agony, at least you could stare at his ass while he runs in front of you.

As if he could read your self-satisfaction, Kensei turns around to look at you. “The hell are you doing back there? Hurry up, you should be trying to beat your best time!”

You groan, making a show of dramatically rolling your eyes before sprinting up ahead of him, mumbling complaints. Kensei always easily kept pace with you during your runs, always trailing about a foot behind. Far enough to give you space, yet close enough to silence your protests almost before you made them. Though his words were almost always chastising, he almost sounds… amused? As much as you hate the grueling pace he sets, you begin to complain just to draw him into conversation, in hopes of catching that hint of a smile on his lips when you glance back.

Kensei learned the real advantage to his position - trailing behind you - early on. Eyes hidden, he’s given a completely unobstructed view of your body as you run. He could take his time lingering over every line, memorizing the shape of each curve. No matter how tired you are, your eyes always sparkle with life when you look back at him, you were always smiling - even when you tried your best to look annoyed.

‘Gods, she’s gorgeous. No, shit. Don’t get attached.’

Finally, your apartment was within sight again, just around the corner from Kisuke’s shop. You slow to a jog before stopping in the front yard. Winded, you bend forward to brace your hands on your knees, breathing deeply, feeling like you’re about to drop - you really want to. You eye the soft grass at your feet. It beckons to you, cool and inviting, as soft as a cloud.

Glancing up, you see Kensei breathing easily with a look of genuine confusion as to how you could be so damn tired already. His chest glistens with a hint of sweat under his shirt, but he’s otherwise unphased. Damn him. If you weren’t concerned about the spots developing in your vision you might take a moment to stare. Instead, you look back at the grass again, carefully reconsidering your plan for cool relief - that would only be admitting how tired you really are.

“You’re… a fucking… sadist.” You whisper in between panting breaths, glaring. Kensei simply smirks, huffing out a quick laugh as he watches you stand, straightening to your full height.

“Hurry up, we gotta get to the gym.” Kensei takes a step, ready to turn away when your choked grunt stops him in his tracks. He watches you double over, clutching your waist with a grimace.

Forgetting himself, his care and concern temporarily outweighs his desire to keep his distance. He crouches down next to you, voice strained with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Cramp.” Another choked grunt, more panting for air. “I’ll be fine.” You try waving him off and force a smile, but the look on your face comes across far more troubling that you had intended.

Kensei’s movements and voice are forceful, all business. “No you’re not. Get your arms up.” He pulls you up by your shoulders to stand and grips your hips, turning your body to face him. The weak protests you attempt to sputter out fall on deaf ears.

Kensei slides his hands up your body, brushing over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He quickly catches your arms and holds them above your head. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of his searing touch on your wrists, the proximity of his body to yours - inches away. So close you can feel the heat radiating from him, smell the airy hint of sweat on his lightly tanned skin. His own deep, even breaths remind you to breathe.

You both stand frozen, trapped in one another’s gaze. Faces growing hot, but unable - unwilling - to move for what seems like an eternity.

Finally, Kensei gently releases you, hesitantly taking a step back - just one. “We should probably call it quits for the day.”

“Right. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” You nod.

”Oh, uh no.” You fight to keep the disappointment you feel from showing on your face. You had gotten used to your morning routines together, even if it was torture you would endure it if it meant spending time together. “I’ll come by when you’re done with work or whatever Kisuke finds for you to do. I’ll spar with you… if you want.”

Your broad smile says more than your words could, trapping Kensei’s gaze as you nod. “Am I finally conditioned enough, sensei?”

Truthfully, Kensei had deemed you sufficiently conditioned to spar with him a week ago. He kept up the pretense of workouts to get more time alone with you, not that he would have admitted that to anyone - even himself. “Just be ready to work hard. I’m not going easy on you.” His grumbles and attempt at a warning only make you smile wider.

You both share an unspoken thought as your eyes meet briefly before you part ways outside your apartment. The time you spend together, no matter how battered and exhausted you were by the end of it, no matter how many sassy quips you throw at him, was the best part of both your days.

***

Kensei wasn’t lying. He had no intention of going easy on you during training. After one week sparring with him, he had put you in the dirt almost more than Kisuke and Yoruichi combined. But without fail, you got back up every time, coming at him with everything you had. Even landing more than a few exceptionally targeted blows, much to his surprise.

Although, that was partly due to the constant coaching you received from the sidelines. Like clockwork, someone always managed to be around and available to give you pointers each afternoon that Kensei stopped by. Yoruichi, Kisuke, Shinji, Ichigo - hell, even Jinta made his way downstairs. Though he spent decidedly more time yelling at Kensei or trying to attack Shinji than doing anything legitimately helpful. Kensei gritted his teeth through it all, his frustration growing, wishing he could get even a few minutes alone with you again. His slim patience for the supportive onlookers and their constant appearance had run out along time ago.

Kensei walks into the shop that afternoon, training bag slung over one shoulder, looking even more agitated and annoyed than usual. But he immediately notices the stark silence that surrounds him. No Tessai, no Yoruichi, and no Kisuke - though he did have a knack for randomly popping up when you least expected. Even you were nowhere to be seen. He tightens his grip on the handle of his bag in frustration before marching off downstairs.

You were alone. For the first time in over a week there wasn’t another soul in sight. Oblivious to his presence, you turn your back to him, leaning down and-

Kensei froze momentarily, watching you stretch before forcing himself to keep walking. ‘She just had to be stretching. Flashing her amazing ass,’ he threw his bag down with a loud thud, making you jump. Kensei scowls, concentrating entirely too hard on rifling through his bag.

“Oh, hey.” You give him a slight wave and walk over in his direction, but Kensei’s eyes remain focused on his task - pointedly ignoring your greeting. You watch him continue to unpack his bag, your eyes narrowing in a frustrated stare as he takes out his gloves and pulls them on. “You don’t intimidate me you know.”

Kensei doesn’t miss a word, but he still refuses to look at you. He flexes his hands, testing the tension and fit of his gloves. “That’s because I’m not trying. You’d know if I wanted to intimidate you.” Finally, he turns towards you without a trace of a smile on his face. He takes a few steps in your direction until he stands inches away, and stares.

A smart person would have felt an icy chill running down their spine at the intensity of that glare. His biceps flex and relax with every fist he makes, even the slightest twitch of his fingers is marked by the bulging muscles. Those arms alone look like they could snap you like a twig without so much as breaking a sweat. Instead, the heat of his gaze pools straight to the pit of your stomach, like a cauldron bubbling, about to boil over at any second.

Kensei takes another step forward, secretly delighted with the hitched breath you draw, but his face remains just as stoic and observant as ever. His eyes travel down your face, settling on your lips. He loses himself briefly, studying the way you purse your lips before sighing quietly. Kensei’s fingers twitch at his side, aching to run his thumb over your soft bottom lip, to lean down and kiss you.

Shit. His attempt at teasing you had backfired horribly.

You take in a deep, shaky breath, afraid that your knees might give out any second while desperately clinging to your composure. “Still not intimidated.” Though you try your best given your current condition, your voice isn’t at all convincing. You’re left breathless and dizzy for all the right - or wrong - reasons.

Kensei smirks, “Still not trying. C’mon, let’s go.”

After nearly a solid hour of sparring, you were doing even better than usual. Kensei briefly wonders if the lack of an audience really helps your concentration that much before your leg comes flying at his head again. Close one, you nearly caught him that time. Kensei narrows his focus on you, smiling with confidence. Gritting your teeth, you try to concentrate - pushing that sexy grin out of your mind.

‘I’ll give you something to smile about you grump.’

Lunging forward, you distract with one hand and strike with other. Or at least, that was the plan. Kensei was always one step ahead of you. He caught one wrist easily, before you have time to process what was happening, he’d traps the other in an iron grip. ‘Damn. Now I know why he was smiling.’

Kensei pushes you backwards, your feet drag uselessly against the ground in a desperate attempt to stop his momentum, to turn this to your advantage - somehow. But the gesture is futile. Kensei pins you against the closest boulder, crushing you between the rock and his body. You struggle in vain, kicking at his legs, wrenching your arms in an attempt to free your wrists trapped on either side of your head. Nothing worked.

Breathing heavily, your mind races to find a way out of this predicament without having to admit defeat. You weren’t about to give Kensei the satisfaction of knowing you’d been beaten - but he already knew. His smug smile said it all, he just needs to hear the words fall from your lips. Kensei’s smile begins to fade as his eyes travel down from yours to settle on your perfect mouth once more.

Realization strikes you both simultaneously. For the second time today you’ve forced yourselves together. Kensei’s large frame presses tightly against your body, his hips digging against yours. He’s acutely aware that your squirming attempts to free yourself have stopped, but he doesn’t back away. Not now.

His eyes flick over every inch of your face quickly like the fast, jerky movements of a hummingbird, judging your reactions, measuring your quick breaths. The heat from his body penetrates through your thin clothing, settling in your core. His scent fills your nostrils with every rapid, shallow breath you take - warm, earthy, with a hint of soap or cologne, but its nearly drowned out by sweat and musk. Its overwhelming - delicious - and making your thoughts hazy. You retain just enough awareness to feel his grip on your wrists relax.

Kensei’s eyes meet yours once more - searching. He leans in slowly, ready to back away at the slightest protest, but he hears none. Instead, your head lifts from the boulder to meet him as his warm lips touch yours. His kiss is gentle - caressing - each light brush of his lips sends a tingling rush down your spine; his slow, deliberate pecks morph slowly, becoming longer and deeper. He sucks on your bottom lip, begging entrance you happily grant with a long sigh.

He releases your wrists, one rough hand cups your cheek delicately; the other falling against your hip, his thumb brushes lightly - circling - over the bare skin of your hip underneath your shirt. Kensei’s tongue slides softly into your mouth, flicking over your teeth before finding your own, relishing in your taste. Finally, he pulls away to look at you, with one last soft touch of his lips on yours.

“Does this mean I can take you out now?” He smiles, looking into your dazed eyes. Sighing, you wiggle your fingers experimentally, only just realizing that your hands were free.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him close for another kiss, your lips ghost over his before breaking into a playful smile. “You better.”

A lithe black cat lay perches on top of a nearby rock, overlooking your sparring session. Her sharp, golden eyes studiously observed everything over the past hour. She stretches, a long - languid - arch before standing. Casting one last glance down she watches your fingers wind through Kensei’s hair as he presses forward, passionately claiming your mouth with kiss after kiss. Her eyes glint with a hint of amusement before she saunters off, slipping back upstairs - completely unnoticed.

#second chances fic #kensei's long ass fic #Kensei Muguruma #buriedinbleach #reader insert #bleach imagines #ao3 #train anon #shinji hirako #Urahara Kisuke #yoruichi shihoin

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xenargon · 5 years

Conversation

Every chapter of my fanfiction Terms of Servitude summed up in one sentence

1. Escape: Plot moves Soundwave from a parallel dimension on earth to a non-parallel dimension on Cybertron.

2. Trust: Actually a lot happens in this one, but it's all expressed through angst and talking.

3. Catharsis: I refuse to write porn.

4. Entropy: A building collapses because something needed to happen and I make this shit up as I go along.

5. Everything: Post-building-collapse stuff.

6. Starscream: He is dysfunctional, and also Shockwave is carrying.

7. Tradeoff: Angst.

8. Collateral Damage: Megatron is abusive.

9. Lifeblood: Soundwave and Shockwave have a really long conversation instead of either sleeping or doing their jobs, which actually describes me more than I care to admit.

10. Ratchet: The autobot council is awful.

11. Reset: Soundwave talks to people for basically an entire chapter.

12. Eight People in a Room: A progress meeting about ship building somehow turns into a discussion about decepticon/insecticon race relations.

13. The Beginning: Decepticons leave Cybertron.

14. The Middle: In celebration of their leaving Cybertron, the decepticons all get drunk.

15. The End: In celebration of their getting drunk, the decepticons get attacked out of nowhere and Shockwave falls to an unknown planet.

16. Silence: Very much NOT in celebration of their having been attacked out of nowhere, the decepticons try to figure out what the hell happened.

17. Disconnection: They explore one of the now-derelict ships that had attacked them and a vehicon gets some goo thrown at him.

18. Purification: Turns out the goo is a pathogen.

19. Enlightenment: Turns out the pathogen is magical.

20. In the Dark: Starscream being a sneaky badass, part 1.

21. Resistance: Starscream being a sneaky badass, part 2.

22. Illumination: You forgot the fact that this story was a Metroid crossover until it just came up and slapped you in the face.

23. Quadraxis: Shockwave keeps Quadraxis from killing some luminoth, which is really nice of him.

24. Mending: An awkward luminoth scientist talks with Shockwave for a whole chapter.

25. Striding Through the Desert: Sand worms.

26. Science: As soon as Shockwave is reunited with the other decepticons, he solves all their problems.

27. The Purge: An entire chapter focused solely on Soundwave's internal ramblings is actually much more of an emotional masterpiece than you would expect, if I do say so myself.

28. The Hour of Twilight: Shockwave decides to keep his child, and the decepticons decide they should help the luminoth by destroying a Leviathan; equally good decisions.

29. Twelve Hours: Did I mention that Starscream is dysfunctional?

30. Steel and Energon: A pretty kickass space battle, if I do say so myself.

31. Rise of the Silver Seeker: I know enough about aviation and meteorology to know that an air battle inside a thunderstorm is actually much more terrifying than TFP would have you believe.

32. The Corruptor: Soundwave, Starscream and Shockwave get knocked to the ground several times and actually do little else, which is all I can focus on whenever I read this chapter now.

33. Rain Shadow: Now that the plot is over, the story again returns to lots of internal and external dialog.

34. Settlement: In celebration of their having not died, the decepticons and luminoth are responsible with their intoxicants and thus don't get very drunk.

35. Addition: Soundwave and Shockwave have a child now, which they find to be very inconvenient.

36. Agreements: Marriage proposals are best made at 5 in the morning, trust me.

#fanfiction #tfp #transformers prime #Soundwave/Shockwave #wavewave #okay so I'm pandering #sue me

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fusonzai · 3 years

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Salvation through writing 2: Life goals and horny Frank Ocean

There’s a phrase in Japanese called Ikigai, it contains the character for living 生 and the character for worth 甲斐 combining to mean “reason for being’’. There’s a philosophy around it mainly dissected on Youtube about how Japan believes everyone has a job that they’re right for. You know you’re ‘doing Ikigai’ when you find a job nourishes your soul whilst benefiting society. Finding a job that you’re good at, you enjoy doing, something that benefits society and puts food on the table is the path to a fulfilling life.

This concept of Ikigai is applies to everyone. Not everybody wants to be a rich professional entrepreneur/snake oil salesman. Everybody has their own unique skillset, strengths and weaknesses that suit a variety of vocations. Ikigai asserts that some people genuinely enjoy and take satisfaction in performing tasks others might deem menial. Therefore, anybody can find their Ikigai; be it a janitor, bureaucrat or international hip hop artist.

After the decade defining album ‘Blonde’, Frank Ocean graduated from teenage melancholy and angst with a drip feed of more upbeat, confident tracks. In one of these tracks ‘In My Room’ he raps “got this lust for life in me, horny for the game,” and then precedes to wax lyrical about all his achievements and bravado. These post Blonde tracks have this maturity and confidence to them. If he was reminiscing about uncertainty and the teenage experience in Blonde, he was well and truly growing up now. Forging deeper connections and leaving deeper scars.

(In My Room cover art, I tried to recreate this shot and failed)

Frank Ocean writes music, he seems to enjoy it and he’s damn well good at it too. He profits from it and, if the amount of times Blonde appears on Best Album of the decade lists is any indication, his music is well received by society.

So, if Frank Ocean’s Ikigai is being horny for the game? What’s mine?

In 2014 I went through what is still up until this day the lowest point in my life. To begin with I’d graduated university with a useless degree and was having a very hard time finding any work relating to it all. My casual job had dried up,I wasn’t only wayward but poor now too. The final blow was realising I was romantically interested in my best friend’s sister, only to then be rejected and see them both fade from my life in quick succession.

I was alone, I was embarrassed, and I actively hated waking up every day. I dreaded consciousness itself. I didn’t want to think about anyone or anything. I’d dull myself with junk food and video games. Holed up in my room for 14 hours a day, trying to get to the gym or even take my dog for a walk was a challenge. I got to the point where I tried to make a schedule for myself. Really small goals like going for a walk or going to the gym. The hardest thing I had to do was watch an arthouse movie a day, and I couldn’t even manage that.

I was in this state and I felt I had nobody I could turn to. I didn’t know how to explain it to my friends my own age and I didn’t want my parents to worry any more than they were. Then I remembered a mature age student from university, who would always have this way of making me feel alright about life when we chatted. I still had his number from months prior and when I felt I was at breaking point, I called. He listened to my ramblings and even gave me part time work at his cafe. He then sincerely said to me that I should seek some professional help, be that counselling or psychiatry. I truly valued his opinion in that hearing this didn’t feel like something I could blow off. It felt like a shockwave. He was genuinely worried for my wellbeing. I owed it not only to myself but also to him to seek help. So I did exactly that.

I visited the doctor’s office I’d been going to for years (often with embarrassing issues) yet talking about my mental health felt leagues more difficult. He asked if I wanted to see someone that could prescribe me drugs or if I just wanted to see a psychologist. I recall jokingly saying something like ‘it wasn’t real depression so a psychologist would be fine.’ He didn’t smile or laugh and just gave me a referral.

I drove to Sunshine and attended my first session of five free counselling sessions.

Throughout these sessions, it was honestly hard to gauge if I got anywhere. After all, you’re just talking and it’s really your actions outside the room that facilitate the change. As we talked, the psychologist suggested that the cause of almost all my issues was not having a steady job and if I just got one of them, then I’d be fine. If I just filled my time with work, I’d be too busy to really think about everything else that mattered. He believed it was the joblessness that was causing all this; I needed to get out of the muck immediately. However, I was on the other end of the spectrum, I wanted to go down as far as I could. I had romanticised reaching some sort of true rock bottom because I thought then, and only then, could I build myself back up. The five free sessions ended and I was convinced I wasn’t ‘really depressed’ and stopped going after that. What I got out of it was that I needed to work.

While not knowing the full brunt of what was going on with me, my friends and family also encouraged finding some kind of permanent job. After some failed attempts and Centrelink lines, I struck gold. Through sheer luck I landed a full-time job at a pretty nice cafe. This wasn’t a career or some sort of path forward, it was a plug to stop the depression. I told myself if I’m working, then nearly all my problems would go away. I never stopped and asked myself why at the time though. Why am I working? Am I working towards something or just working?

(Blonded)

I’d hole myself up at the cafe for the next 2 years of my life. Those two years were pure autopilot. I didn’t have any goals, I was working five days a week, seeing my friends on my days off, rinse and repeat. The only thing I remember about this time was the vague goal of moving to Japan for a year; which eventually became a reality.

The word ‘brave’ got thrown around a lot when I told people I was leaving. I liked the compliment, but it didn’t sit right with me. By the time I was about to move, I’d spent the previous 3 years working almost exclusively with people who weren’t from Australia originally, or people who were here on working holiday visas. I was just doing the same as they were. Another language and a completely different culture didn’t make me brave all of a sudden. I wasn’t entering a new country with rose coloured glasses or illusions about what I was doing there.

(Back when study was a lot easier)

So I set off and spent a year bumbling around in Tokyo, being poor, having little breakdowns and locking myself away when it got too tough occasionally. This didn’t feel brave. I’d work in cafes and restaurants in the upper class areas of Tokyo, my bosses would tell me x person was famous for this and y person was famous for that. I’d see these excessive bills and displays of wealth every day and every night. I’d then ride the shabby elevator down to the staff room and get changed out of my uniform as I tried to figure out if I had enough cash to get a snack from the convenience store. I was doing the exact same thing as I was in Australia just with a different background, I wasn’t improving. There was no job trajectory. Another loop of nothing. Killing more time, I could have done this forever and fool myself into thinking it was alright because it had a different coat of paint.

So I left Tokyo.

I went North to Hokkaido, hoping to find something better, and for a time I did. It was a barista job like the others, but with opportunities to do more. I went from just making coffee to modelling, translating (badly), interpreting (also badly) and eventually roasting coffee. I felt on the up. I was getting pretty damn good at my job: bringing in people from overseas, helping my company forge new friendships and leave a mark on the Japanese coffee scene. After 18 months of hard work and study I finally had a working visa, a semblance of normalcy and a direction.

I began to envision myself in the future with an even better job and a better grasp of the language. I’d made friends and I could even see myself living in Japan permanently. Also, I was in love. Boy, was I convinced I was in love. This feeling just gripped me, overwhelmed my senses and completely rearranged my priorities. Up until now, such feelings had always been one-sided or unreciprocated. Although this time the feelings flowed both ways. I’d light up to see her name on my phone; we’d talk about the future for hours on end as I’d envision us growing old together. I’d imagine our families meeting for the first time, moving in together, getting engaged, getting married, having kids. Things that felt so foreign, now seemed obvious with her. I felt like I had at least figured out one aspect of my life by now; I had someone beside myself to strive for. I wanted to make a future not only for myself, but for us.

My life finally felt balanced, I was doing a job that I was good at it, I was making a living abroad and my personal life finally felt at peace.

Yet here’s the thing, I began to realise I wasn’t doing any of it right. I wasn’t as satisfied as I was tricking myself into thinking I was. To begin with, I couldn’t see myself doing this job for the rest of my life. The merit of it being a stepping stone onto something better also seemed farfetched now. I’d never get fully out of coffee while still being in coffee.

Once I realised how much this job wasn’t right for me anymore, I began to notice the red flags. The days felt more repetitive and repetitive, my higher ups got verbally abusive, and I didn’t stand up for myself. I was demoted and sent to work far off in a ski resort nobody else wanted to go to. Back to serving the people rich enough to be in a such a resort reminded me of how little I’d really done. I felt like I was back in Tokyo spinning my wheels. The distance of the resort also meant I went from seeing my friends almost every day to about once every couple of months. The isolation began to kick in.

At least I still had my relationship, right? Well, those feelings I wrote about; I fought myself in an attempt not to show them. I spent all of my energy trying to fight them at the time because I thought it was too much. I’d not reply to messages, be vague and try to pretend our relationship wasn’t all I thought about it. I had all of this inside me, wanting to show the world and my partner how I felt. Yet I never matured to that point; I never had the confidence to just say how I felt in the present.

Relationships can’t live on lies for long and before I knew it mine had slipped through my fingers as well.

(Shaved my head and flew to Tokyo for a $500 cup of coffee)

It was now the end of 2019: work was awful, I’d self-sabotaged a real relationship, and I was stuck in this ski resort doing nothing. I felt like I had done all this work only to end up back to where I’d started; I was looping. I seriously contemplated ending that loop. Unlike the way I was in 2014, I felt like I’d actually tried this time. I’d gotten out there, found work, found meaning, found substance. Yet it felt so moot. I felt like I’d done nothing for anyone around me except, at the least, inconvenience them, and at worst, hurt them. I was making the same mistakes, wasting my own time and everyone else’s. For the first time in years, I broke down crying on the phone to my close friend, just despairing over the futility of it all.

That spiral continued on through all of 2020. I made more mistakes. I revisited places I shouldn’t have and before I knew it, it was snowing, and I was back in the same damn ski resort. I knew something had to change, yet I was doing absolutely nothing about it. This mediocrity was crushing me spiritually, but I was safe inside the familiarity. I could do that job until I died.

I was back to being scolded from superiors, being disconnected from my friends (again) and most of all being dishonest to myself. People often say of life changing moments, things like ‘I knew at that moment what I had to do’ or ‘I decided then and there’. I’ve always stumbled in and out of life changing events, never quite prepared and never sure things are going to be as definitive as they become. This time though it felt different. I sat down with my boss and heard about his ideal future for me. I realised I wanted nothing to do with it. So I told him as much and fortunately, he understood.

Now, for the first time since leaving university I’m about to become unemployed.

Here’s what surprises me upon reflection. I’m not nervous about it at all. That huge sense of dread that accompanied me when I finished university isn’t here. Leaving on my own terms feels good. It feels empowering and often overwhelming, yet knowing I put myself into this situation makes me believe that it’s all going to be alright. There’s nobody nudging me to quit, I just know I’m done with this part of my life. I need to do more; I can do more. It’s imperative for my own health and for those around me that I do more. I know what my own hell looks like because I’ve been there for the last 18 months. It stands to reason that to get out of it I need to do the opposite of what I’ve been doing. There isn’t a blueprint to follow so much as there’s pages of journal entries guiding me on what not to do. I have one page in my diary that is just ‘I HAVE GIFTS AND I SQUANDER THEM’ written until the page ends.

Yet there’s something still lingering. A question I ask myself more and more often. Why though? Why do I need to do more? What am I working towards? What am I doing it for?

Self-help books, Instagram influencers and Jordan Peterson lectures talk about envisioning a future and then aiming for that, using an ideal future as something to strive for. Take a second, imagine what you would want if there was nothing stopping you (within reason), then make a plan, and strive for that. You can then categorise whatever you do on a daily basis as things that either help or hinder that ideal future. My problem with this is that I can’t write up an ideal future because I honestly don’t know what I want for myself. I’ve sat myself down on occasion and tried asking myself. I’ve been writing these pieces as a way to flesh thoughts out in an attempt to strike gold. There are things I’m interested in, but not all that good at, when I go to study them or get better, I don’t see an endgame to it. If I’ve got enough media, friends and a work life balance it seems I can keep sailing by, but I really want to know what is the point of heading any direction?

I can’t envision a future with me in it, let alone an ideal one where I’m ‘living my best life’. It is almost as if I have replaced my fear and anxiety about the future with ambivalence. Whereas I used to think about the future and break down, I now just think about it and refuse to believe it will ever happen. I don’t associate negative emotion with these thoughts, I just think it’s useful to observe them. Barring a miracle, I don’t think I’m going to wake up one day and never think these thoughts again. I oscillate between the above nihilism and this belief that I can do more, be better and improve myself. I’m writing in an attempt to reconcile such a contradiction.

We arrive back at Frank Ocean, his lust for life and Ikigai. While Frank seems to have taken time to work something out with himself, I’m still not quite there. I haven’t found my passion (horny for the game, in other words) yet given time I know I’ll be lusting for life, too. It’s a selfish journey for now, but it’s one that’s arguably made progress. I look back at 20-year-old me, slumped down on the kitchen floor bawling my eyes out, my dog trying to nudge her way into my face to see what’s wrong. I realise now that I was at that rock bottom I wanted to reach. I had zero clue about what to do with myself then and really no forward trajectory. Now I at least have some sense of where to go, obtained through mistakes, courage, and self-inquiry. It’s not the inspiring 180 that people like to read, but it’s an improvement nonetheless. I’m still figuring it out as I go. I can be certain of one thing, I’ll keep making mistakes. I can take those mistakes and turn them into progress. Little by little that progress may one day account for something amazing.

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saikostories · 3 years

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MHA - Training Camp (Alternate version) pt1

In which Kamino happened much earlier (for a completely different reason) and the training camp was to train ahead for the Pro-hero licencing exams as well as for an era without All Might.

He was down.

Is he going to stay down?

Izuku gasped through his pain, craning his neck to glance at the man - no, the creature, buried between the rubble. He was unconscious, not moving. Through his blurred and foggy vision, the green haired student could easily asses that he was still breathing. Good, that means he won't get in serious trouble, at least.

But for how long will he stay...

Izuku swayed, he blinked several times to try to clear his vision. His ears were ringing, and as much pain as he knew he was in, it was obvious that it was nothing compared to what he will feel when the adrenaline wore off. He took in a shaky breath. “I need to get to Kacchan,” He stated flatly to no one, straining when he realized how dry his throat suddenly was. “He's in danger. I don't know why or how but... Damit Izuku, move!“ He bit his lip and shifted his weight, sending a painful shockwave through his chest. "Fucking..."

This was my worst yet. Midoriya thought, my arms are toast. He clenched his teeth, All Might and Recovery Girl are both gonna lose it. He couldn't help but chuckle, but that was cut short when his body convulsed with pain and he collapsed to one knee, coughing up a thick crimson. When he recollected himself, he wiped his mouth only to stain his glove from the blood running down his face.Crap. Not good.

Kacchan… why Kacchan? Why… think, Izuku! His brain stumbled while he tried to sort through the muck and muddle of his thoughts, why do they want Kacchan?

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and after a failed attempt to pick himself back up, he cursed. Yeah, his arms were completely useless; He can't even feel them. There was a sharp pain every time he breathed, and dammit! He can't get the blurriness out of his eyes. Izuku’s thought process continued to topple around when he heard a whimper behind him. For a moment he froze, failing to get his arms up to defend himself. Then he remembered. Wait how could he have forgotten?

Shit! The kid. Izuku hissed, breathing out shallow while trying to collect his thoughts. Yes, Kota the kid.. who- who actually has a quirk! He would have rolled his eyes at the irony if he didn't think they would fall out of his head right now. He stumbled to gather his words.

“Kota, are you alright?” Izuku breathed. Fuck, talking hurts. He grimaced as he tried to take a deep breath. Everything was spinning, where was he? Why can't he... Right, focus… “a-are you hurt?”

Kota stood, “N-no… but w-why did you-?” The boy clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, a sob escaping his lips. “Why?! Even after what I did… I hit you, b-but you-” He began openly bawling and ran up to Izuku, wrapping himself around his hero’s leg. “I'm s-s-sorry! I'm sorry! Thank you!”

Izuku simply nodded, but that sent shockwaves throughout his body and he gasped. This is really bad, why- why is it so hard to breathe...

“I couldn't j-just let you be hurt...” He felt his consciousness ebbing away, blackness pricking the sides of his vision. “Listen, Kota…” the words were whispers that barely escaped his lips. The boy tightened his hold on Izuku and his breath quickened “Listen… g-go get to safety ‘kay? You've ‘gotta get ou’ of ‘ere. Cut through the ‘orest n’ don't stop...” His words slurred dangerously and he teetered. He needed to keep focusing on his breathing...

“No! What about you, I'm not leaving you- you can barely move!” Kota pleaded. He stepped back from Izuku, his eyes looking extensively at the injuries. “We gotta get you some help…” Izuku tried to stand again and failed, again. “S-stop, Midoriya, p-please!”

Izuku was fading faster than he anticipated. He couldn't hear the words that were spoken from the child, but he could feel the child's grip tightening. The pain was beating down his adrenaline in rapid waves. "Kota..." he struggled, gagging on what.. more blood? "You need... t-t- you need..."

"Midoriya!"

The ground was suddenly coming at him fast and he couldn't do anything to break his fall. His body would not move. Before the beckoning blackness overtook him, you could hear his faint cry.

“Kacchan…you're ‘n danger.”

A scream escaped a little boy's mouth, more from shock than anything else. With effort and strength he didn't know he had, Kota caught the boy's head before it slammed into the rocks, falling with his suddenly limp body. The student began convulsing against his hold. His breaths came shallow and quick, eyes rolled back. Blood was spilling from his mouth.

“Help! Someone! H-help! Stay with me, Midoriya!”

Not far away, a certain spiky haired blonde looked toward the sound.

”What the fuck is going on now!” He growled.

***

Katsuki reared, smoke escaping his nostrils. “This is absolute BULLSHIT!” he snarled, slowing his pace. He had unceremoniously ran ahead of his other classmates to chase down what he automatically declared as a villain he was going to, quote, “fucking kill.”

His hands crackled with fireworks as he looked around. Decidedly, he was going to promptly curse everyone out when he sees them again for not keeping up with him. He also decided he's gonna curse Deku out too, because… well because this was probably his fault. “Stupid Deku,” he affirmed.

In a walking speed, he continued straight through, pushing large leaves and brush out of his way. He had half a mind to blow it all up to clear a path, but he wasn't as crazy as everyone thought he was. The last thing he needed was a forest fire and a beacon to summon every villain to his location.

Katsuki rubbed the bridge of his nose and gritted his teeth. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? He looked behind himself. There was no path to be seen and he didn't know which way he came from. He was lost. “FUCK!”

He was a few seconds away from rethinking his blow up the area idea when he heard something.

A scream.

He looked in the direction of the sound. “What the fuck is going on, now!”

It's better than just standing around here like a dumbass he decided, and ran toward the sound. Sounded like that brat who punched Deku. He smirked to himself at the thought. Stupid kid, should have been home at a time like this… getting himself caught up in this bullshit. I'm gonna...

Before he had time to finish his ramblings, there was another scream that had Katsuki grinding to a stop, eyes wide. The sound seemed far off but he heard it clearly. He heard Midoriya’s name. He couldn't make out the context but the voice was urgent… terrified.

Grumbling about how he was gonna wring the green haired boy's neck, he continued toward the sound with an odd feeling in his chest. His pace quickened despite his acknowledgment that he totally was not worried about what he was getting himself into. Totally.

It had been a few minutes of Katsuki running around, and his nerves were flaring more from annoyance than not. Why wasn't that stupid kid yelling anymore? How was he supposed to find him? He aggressively shoved a large shrub out of his way and snarled at the sight of another. He can't be exactly sure where the sound came from anymore. Despite his utter impatience, he continued trudging forward after kicking a tree and splitting it in half.

Then he heard it.

Another scream.

It was really close, he heard every word.

For a moment he thought Torodoki had snuck up behind him and sheared him with ice.

“No no no no- no, Midoriya! Please, breathe!”

Katsuki couldn't move. He couldn't move! MOVE!

He found his feet and stumbled forward quicker until he was practically sprinting, smashing anything that was in his way. Before his mind could catch up, he found them.

The boy gasped and fell backwards at the sight of the fuming blonde. At first he couldn't find his voice but eventually squeaked out a, “Help!”

Katsuki’s body moved without thinking. He didn't even know what the hell was going on. He found himself kneeling on the ground next to Izuku. For some reason he was pissed. From fear or whatever, he didn't know. Izuku isn't breathing! What the fuck is happening.

As if his body was moving on it's own, he quickly removed his grenade cuffs, throwing them to the side. The temperamental teen placed his hand on Izuku’s chest. It wasn't moving.

Oh god.

For a second that felt like an hour, Katsuki fucking forgot how to do CPR. Was he really gonna fucking do mouth to mouth with… Deku?

Of fucking course he is. It's Deku. His… what was he to him again? Friend? No… aacquaintance?

“Snap out of it, dumbass,” he found himself snarling out loud, causing the kid to whimper and slide away. There's no time for this. Focus! He's not breathing! Do something you idiot!

He quickly looked over Izuku, only then did he realize. Thoughtlessly, he instructed the boy to take off his shirt. When the boy looked at him confused, Katsuki practically burned into him with his glare. He started pumping Izuki's chest, biting his lip. He felt like his heart was in his throat. 1...2...3...4...

“Fuck. Deku you little shit, BREATHE!”

The more Katsuki pumped, the more frantic he became. Izuku was limp, his body jumping slightly with each push. The now panicked blonde was gritting his teeth so hard that he was developing a headache.

Not even hesitating, he lifted Izuku’s chin with his index finger, plugged his nose and breathed into his mouth twice. He had his hand on his chest to be sure that it was rising. He sat back up and began pumping again, with even more urgency.

Finally after what felt like hours, a gasp, short but sweet and Katsuki finally felt his pulse. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Holy fuck.

“Fuck, fuck. Deku, can you hear me? Deku? You idiot. Are you with me?”

A sob from the kid turned his attention.

“Brat, tear your shirt in half and tie it around his leg above the knee to stop that bleeding.” He continued, “use the other half and apply pressure to his head wound. Do you have a fucking phone on you?” he asked, urgently. He found his fingers still pressed against Izuku’ neck. The feeling of his pulse was almost… calming him enough to somewhat think rationally.

The boy shook his head vigorously.

“That fucking figures!” He yelled, a little too loudly for his current taste. He was having a hard time trying not to panic. He thickly swallowed.

He found his voice growing somewhat soft as he looked to Deku. “Deku, can you hear me? Shit please, you idiot. Come on…” The sound of his voice startled him, but he hardly paid any attention to the details.

Izuku stirred slightly, his eyes barely opening. They were unfamiliar, unfocused. Katsuki couldn't help but notice that they were without his unique sparkle.

“Hey- hey it's me. It's Katsuki. Can you hear me?” He pressed urgently, “we're gonna get you some help. Just stay with me, dumbass. We will fix you up and I'll kick your ass afterwards for this.”

He found it irritating how soft his voice was, but honestly at this point he didn't and couldn't care. He had to pick his battles right now, and being aggressive and pride-filled, was not one of them.

Not now. He was fucking scared. He didn't know what to do. He didn't train for this.

It was usually just guns and glory for him. Now reality is smacking him in the face with a whole yellow pages, and he didn't know what the fuck to do.

Unconsciously he remembered back to a time when Izuku had fallen off the monkey bars on the playground and hurt his leg.

He was crying much to Katsuki's annoyance. His mom had come up to him and picked him up, mumbling sweet, soft words to him. It seemed to work, he was smiling and back to his annoying self in a few minutes.

At the time, the blonde that it was weak and pathetic.

Katsuki pondered this as he looked to the injured boy. Whatever, if it helps keep that idiot Deku alive.

He took some deep breaths and pushed away his thoughts. Izuku seemed to be looking at him now, his eyes barely open to slits. Katsuki grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Hey buddy?” The word 'buddy' tasted sour on his tongue, “You with me? Keep breathing okay. Keep your eyes focused on me.”

Izuku’s eyes seemed to gain a little of their light as if he realized that Katsuki was with him. He opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to form words. In another attempt he slipped into a bubbling coughing fit. Katsuki couldn't help but gasp as blood came spewing out of his mouth.

“Fucking shit…” he lifted Izuku’s head slightly to the side, to help him evacuate his contents. “Deku, just breathe, idiot.”

More blood began spilling from his mouth as Izuku gurgled and gasp in an effort to breathe, and before he thought twice about it, Katsuki found himself standing up and scooping the boy into his arms. He gently carried him to a place where he could sit. It happened to be up against the rock formation, near where the unconscious villain laid amongst the rubble.

Katsuki had still not noticed him. His attention was too focused on Izuku. Questions will be saved for later.

Kota following quickly behind.

“Are we taking him to get help?” He asked hoarsely, his voice tired from crying.

“He's lost too much blood,” Katsuki stated, fear in his voice. "We can't move him, it will only kill him quicker. The others aren't close, it took me a while to find you idiots." The thought of Deku dying made him shudder. He sat down gently and pulled Izuku into his arms, trying to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. The semi conscious boy whimpered.

“Shh it's okay, I've got you. I need to hold you up so you don't choke, hold on.” Katsuki shifted his weight and settled the boy. Auntie Inko would be so much better with these soothing words. Yet, he was glad she couldn't see this.

The initial shock from the discovery of Izuku was finally starting to wear off and he found himself shaking. Kota sat next to them. He had wrapped half of his shirt over Izuku’s head wound but Katsuki found that it was already soaked.

“What do we do?” Kota squeaked. “He's going to-”

“Shut up!” Katsuki snapped. “He isn't going to anything.”

Kota deflected the comment and continued. “I can go get help from a hero or- or something. Do you want me to?”

The blonde found himself trembling, unable to think of anything better. Was he really gonna put this kid in danger, for Deku?

There was no other choice.

“Fucking shit. Okay. You have to keep low, and quiet. Idiot, you listening to me? If you see any shit, go the other way. Okay? Go straight through. Don't try any stupid shit.”

Kota nodded and glanced at Izuku nervously. Suddenly a look of determination crossed his eyes. He nodded and sprinted off.

Katsuki found himself alone with Izuku, suddenly with emotions flowing through him. He pulled Izuku closed to him in an effort to keep him warm. The boy looked to his elder with weak eyes. His body was ice cold, Katsuki shivered against it.

Izuku attempts to speak again. “Kacc...chan?” he finally managed.

“It's okay, idiot, you're gonna be fine.” he replied gently. He heard Izuku’s rough, shallow breaths and swallowed.

The boy's eyes slipped shut and Katsuki’s heart skipped. “Deku, come on. Stay with me.”

He placed his head against Izuku’s chest and heard his faint heartbeat.

A lot of feelings rushed him and he found himself crying into Izuku’s limp form. Why did he suddenly care so much? What the fuck is happening.

Come on Deku. Stay with me. Don't die or I'm gonna kill you.

***

“Deku, idiot wake up.” Katsuki shook the unconscious boy slightly but he remained limp in his arms. He pulled him a little closer to try and share some of his body heat. Izuku was ice cold and shivering.

The shivering wasn't good, it meant the kid was in shock. However, it was also a sign that he was still fighting. Katsuki bit his lip.

He had found a little opening in the rock wall that he sat against. That way if someone unwelcome came around, they wouldn't immediately notice the boys and hopefully would move along.

He didn't know how long they had been sitting there, and his efforts to slow the bleeding were hardly working. His mind raced through all his possibilities. Or, lack of.

The blonde cursed aloud and knocked his head against the wall. “You idiot. How could you be so damn careless. Look at this shit, now I have to protect you again like when you were a whiney quirkless brat. Stupid Deku… Stupid-”

Katsuki stiffened when suddenly Izuku began seizing in his hold. He loosened his arms as to not hurt him and the boy jerked as if he was possessed.

He froze, not knowing what to do. His heart was shoved up into his throat as he watched blood spill from the vulnerable child. His eyes blinking rapidly, rolling. Breathing was coming out in short gasps and sometimes, to Katsuki's horror, not at all.

Then he stopped and went limp again. Katsuki scooped him up and pressed his head against Izuku's chest even tighter this time, willing his injuries to go away. His pulse was barely noticeable.

There wasn't much time left.

The blonde swallowed and finally took the time to evaluate the injuries to see if there was any way he could move him.

Both arms were shattered, that was obvious enough. Katsuki figured he'd never get to use them again. There was an open gash on his left leg right below the knee with blood still slowly oozing out. Another wound on his head, also open and bleeding worse than the other. He ran his hand gently over the boy's stomach, feeling for anything. Izuku didn't even flinch as he pressed, checking for his ribs. Several were broken. Katsuki shook his head.

Izuku can't be moved with the blood loss and risk of a punctured lung. His body was extremely fragile and broken as if someone threw a semi truck right on top of him. He was essentially crushed. Katsuki was completely dumbfounded.

He still didn't even know what the hell happened. He had so many questions, but at this rate, Izuku only had minutes. He didn't have time to stop Kota earlier and play 20 questions. Telling him to go seek help was the right thing to do.

Unlike before, Izuku wasn't moving even a little. He was as still as death, blood pooling beneath him, soaking Katsuki's clothes. His chest rattling with every shallow breath he managed to gasp, weaker by the minute. If Katsuki didn't know any better, he would have thought he was dead. If only he had gotten here a few seconds earlier. Maybe he would have been able to stop this.

Katsuki was overwhelmed with... well everything. All the times he bullied Izuku, teased him and treated him like a living punching bag. The times when he said he was worthless, that he should just die. All of those memories were clouding his vision as it became blurry with tears again. This time he didn't fight them back.

“I'm sorry, Deku. I'm sorry.” He pulled the boy in tight, burying his head into his chest. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I don't...I don't want you to die Dek-”

Katsuki sniffed. “I don't want you to die, Midoriya.”

He grimaced at the feeling of his cold clammy hand as he intertwined it with his own. A feeling he couldn't quite understand overwhelmed him as he looked at the pale, lifeless kid who was losing his battle. There were no words to describe it.

I don't have the right to be called a hero. Not after this. Not if I can't even save Midoriya. Not after what I put him through. I'm nothing but a cowardly bully. He was- he is my friend. And I- I-. His mind raced as he breathed shakily. There's no time for this. Focus.

He always cared for Izuku, he was just too ashamed to admit it because he was quirkless and essentially, useless. He'd just tag along with everyone else and tease him relentlessly. It was all fun and games to him. Even though they had practically grew up together. Katsuki just didn't want to be associated with a… weakling.

Now, he was regretting every moment. He wanted to take it all back. Looking at the dying boy beneath him, he felt something arise in his chest that he had always shoved to the back without thought. It was indescribable, but soft and warm. In this moment of life or death, that feeling preyed on him immensely.

He determined then that he was going to literally tear the person who hurt Izuku into pieces, slowly and painfully. He felt a sudden rage boiling in him like never before.

As if on cue, out of sight Katsuki heard a low groan and the shifting of rubble. All of his questions were about to be answered.

***

Upon hearing the sounds of rubble being displaced and a slight groan that followed, Katsuki tensed, unconsciously gripping the frail boy closer into him. Had someone found them? His breath hitched and he pressed himself against the rocks in a futile effort to blend in.

The boy beneath him whimpered weakly at the tight hold but made no movement to try and escape it. Blood pooled through Katsuki’s fingers and he winced, loosening the grip. Was he injured in more places than I initially thought?

“Shhh,” Katsuki managed as calmly as possible knowing full well that Izuku probably couldn't even hear him. His breathing shallow and silent as his ears tuned into every sound around him.

In any normal scenario, Katsuki would have raced out guns blaring with ominous threats of killing, but something broke that tension in him and he was scared. He knew that the risk to Izuku was too much and he couldn't possibly go all out. It was too dangerous to attempt while keeping him alive. “You're always such a damn burden, Deku,” he soured, barely above a whisper.

He chanced a look at the boy.

His face was as pale as a ghost, lips parted slightly as he struggled to breathe. Izuku was no longer shaking but completely limp, head rolled to one side laying against Katsuki's chest. To the blonde‘s horror, his eyes were half lidded. The glazed and blank stare gazed into his own eyes, emotionless. Katsuki didn't realized that he himself was holding his breath when their eyes locked.

He quietly sucked in some air, swallowed and decided to test his luck by reaching out and checking the boy's pulse. Yeah, he was still alive. In fact, Katsuki could've swore his pulse was a little bit stronger. He bit his lip. “That's good, idiot. You stay alive so I can kick your ass later, you hear me?“

Still emotionless, Izuku's eyes looked through Katsuki. His brow furrowed and he sharply inhaled as if he wanted to say something. Katsuki shook his head, “It's okay we'll get out of here. It's okay.”

Izuku didn't seem satisfied, as he took in another painful breath of air. Katsuki looked at him, confused for a moment.

In a raspy voice Katsuki could only describe as something he'd never want to hear again, Izuku spoke. “Run, K-kacchan.”

Before he could respond, another sound. A low growl followed by more rubble shifting. Nearby, a voice.

“That green haired twat is going to pay for that. He will die.”

Katsuki froze. Was this what happened to Izuku? This voice coming from someone, this man. He suddenly realized, and put two together.

That kid, he saved that stupid useless kid and this man, whatever he is, did this. Did this to Izuku when he was just trying to save the kid. That damn kid. Fucking shit! What is this thing if it can do THIS to Deku?!

Katsuki hissed and spat to the side. His fingers twitched and he pulled the boy into his chest again. He was cold, very cold. On pure instinct and with a lot of practice put into it over the years, Katsuki warmed his hands just enough to place on Izuku's chest and around his back. He knew it was better than nothing.

He was blindly furious at he had no idea what. Izuku, stupid Deku, acting a fool again. Showing off. Or… that- that thing for what he did. That thing, coming in this direction.

How can he fight to defend them both, he thought as he heard heavy footsteps moving around. Moving closer.

His eyes closed, Izuku laid in his lap limp, as if gone to the world. Head rolled to the side, blood now dropping from his mouth. His bleeding from the wounds slowed, but still was pooling beneath them. There wasn't minutes left.

Once again Katsuki realized there was no choice. The footsteps rounded the corner and into the little opening Katsuki had burrowed them into.

“I feel you quivering, you little shit. Come back out here and i'll make it quick.”

Yeah, he was gonna kill today.

Kota plowed through the brush and came out tumbling into the opening area where he had discovered the pro-hero, Eraser head. Aziwa looked at him, baffled. “Kid, what are you doing out here?! It's dangerous!”

Kota scrambled to his feet as Aziwa reached to grab him in only what he'd assumed was to take him to shelter.

“Wait wait, please!” Kota cried, tears streaming down his face. “Sir, please. Midoriya!”

Aziwa froze, breath caught. “Midoriya? Where is he?”

“Please, please help him. He- he saved me. But-” Kota sobbed and Aziwa shook him by the shoulders, demanding answers. “He's hurt real bad. He's d-dying, please help him. He's- he's dying. There's a- a villain, still- he's still there. And another- student. Sent- help. Please help.”

Before Kota could finish his last word, Aziwa scooped him up and plopped him on his back as his knees gave way and he collapsed. He gasped in surprise, wrapping his arms around the teachers neck so he wouldn't fall.

“Lead me there, now,” He commanded darkly, while dialing a number on his phone.

***

He clutched the boy to his chest. Surprisingly, instead of launching himself forward, Katsuki was crawling back trying to look as small as possible. Beneath him, Izuku was dead weight but still breathing. He shuffled his body to brace for any sudden attack. He would take the full force of it, but he'd survive.

Swallowing, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Katsuki oh so very gently placed Izuku against the rock wall, sitting up his limp body to prevent him from choking on his blood. He coughed weakly, causing Katsuki's heart to sink within a level of pain he never knew possible. A crash, and his head spun in panic and pure, unrecognisable rage. He began to sweat, and with that came clearly audible popping that Katsuki immediately resented.

It's not such a great quirk after all, he scowled to himself. I'm useless! I'm not… this isn't… this isn't helping! FUCK!

His breathing quickened to a panicked pace. I need to get this away from Izuku. Now!

A growling yell from behind him, and he spun around. He thickly swallowed, his heart pounding in his throat. MOVE! MOVE YOU WORTHLESS IDIOT!

All I have to do is keep him distracted, he thought. Just another few minutes , he pleaded to himself. Hold on just a few more minutes, please Izuku!

Suddenly, the Villain Muscular spotted Katsuki. Without any thinking involved, his feet were moving. He vocally felt a deadly threat escape his throat as he ran headlong, not recognizing his own voice.

“I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, BASTARD!”

Catching the other by surprise, Katsuki launched himself into the air with a blast, spinning himself around in less than a second to land a solid punch square into the scarred eye of Muscular.

WHAM!

Breathing out a scream of rage, Katsuki continued to throw a barrage of punches towards the villain's face. One after another, and another, and…

Suddenly realizing that none of the fucking punches were making contact, Katsuki jumped back, landing on his feet and sliding back in an attempt to create as much distance as possible. His breathing ragged, he looked up to see that the villain before him had been holding an arm in front of his face. It took most of the blows, but he was shaking. Obviously still drained from his fight with Izuku.

Katsuki spat to his side and popping sounds escaped from both of his hands as he clenched his fists.

Muscular laughed, and tskted. He lowered his arm.

“So you're gonna be the hero now, huh?”

Katsuki snarled. Just a few more minutes, he repeated in his head. Hold just a few… Please hurry Kota, you fucking useless nerd!

Muscular started walking toward him, catching Katsuki by surprise. He labored another breath he was holding.

At least he's coming in my direction.

He braced himself, glancing over toward where Izuku lay, slumped over. He couldn't even tell if he was breathing anymore.

Fighting back any urge to race over to Izuku, Katsuki retorted back, keeping the other busy and focused on him. “You useless scum. I'll kill you. I'll kill you for what you did to my… my friend.”

Without warning Muscular launched at Katsuki, the boy barely being able to dodge when he was suddenly grabbed by the leg mid jump and slammed into the ground. He screamed, pain soaring through him like a white hot light. His body couldn't move. He breathed but out only came coughing and more pain. He squirmed, blasting haphazardly toward the beast while lacing a barrage of unrepeatable swears that put even him to shame.

A blast made contact with a rock fixture atop of them and in Muscular’s momentarily lapsed focus, Katsuki swung from beneath him and grabbed his face, centering a blast right on it at full force. The recoil sent Katsuki flying backwards into the rocks, he slides down as his legs give way to the pain. He breathed, ragged. As the dust from the blast began to clear, Katsuki favored what he saw.

Muscular’s face nearly blown to bits, his body crushed by falling rock debris. However he was still breathing and began to rise.

“You little shit.” Thrusting rocks off of himself with a brush of his hands, he stood wiping blood from his non existent mouth. Teeth smiled at Katsuki, causing him to wince.

“You'll pay for that.”

Katsuki stood, swaying. A curse shot from his lips when he saw it. He stopped short, freezing. He could swear his heart stopped for a few beats.

“So... Is this what's so important to you, hm?”

"NO- NO!" Katsuki screamed. HOW?!

In his grasp, he held a limp Izuku.

A blind rage had tears prick at his eyes.

“H-how…” he stammered.

“I wasn't done with him yet. Did you think I forgot? He seems very important to you. While you were distracted I collected him. Didn't want him to miss the party.”

Muscular smirked with his newly forming face and Katsuki swallowed bile threatening his throat. “What's your name, boy?”

“None of your fucking business,” Katsuki spat.

A slight squeeze to the ribs and cracking sound from the boy followed by no cries of pain had Katsuki sinking to his knees. “How about now? Feel like telling me now boy?” Bakugo slammed his fists on the ground. He couldn’t bear to watch, but at the same time, he knew he shouldn’t give his name away.

“Stop! I'LL KILL YOU!” The monster in front of him grinned and grabbed Midoriya by his head; this time, letting him dangle limply.

“K-ka...cchan...” Bakugo’s head snapped up to look at where the sound had come from. With wide eyes, crimson stared into green. It felt like he was numb all over.

No... Please... Let him go. Stop... Don’t.... hurt... him.

“Still alive are we? Wow... You’re a tough one to kill that’s for sure.”

Bakugo couldn’t move. He knew his leg was broken, and his arm... he probably had a severe concussion and maybe a broken rib here or two. But it wasn’t his injuries that were stopping him.

No. It was the next word. The next word that was uttered. To everybody else it was just a whisper... Yet Katsuki felt like it was being screamed.

“Run.”

Once it left his lips, a sick cracking sounded and it felt like time had completely stopped.

No.

NO.

Mi-Midoriya?

But he didn't move.

It's too late.

“Shame. I thought he was in for another fight. Oh well.” the beast spoke to himself, before letting a mechanical chuckle.

Years of that boy's smile etched into Katsuki’s brain like boiling water. That stupid laugh, his insane kindness and wanting to help others no matter what.

The world was exploding around him, and suddenly he was very small and afraid. Afraid of fire, afraid of the sound he made when he breathed. All thoughts remained to Izuku as the rest of his mind escaped his surroundings. He clenched his hands tightly. His chest felt constricted.

Sobs wracked his body as the man stepped closer. He wanted to die. Just kill me! He screamed to himself. I am no hero! This is my fault!

He shut his eyes tightly as he waited for the final blow.

It never came.

And then Muscular made his fatal mistake.

A thud, and Midoriya landed in front of him. In front of a sobbing Katsuki. The blonde couldn't help but reach out. Couldn't help his shaking hands as he checked for the innocent, loving child's pulse.

Nothing. Midoriya Izuku, the messy green-haired, smiling… lovable Deku, was dead .

And Katsuki had nothing holding him back now.

The world went a deep red.

***

Scarlet red eyes, brimming with tears and fire finally left the still form of Izuku. Katsuki didn't remember scooping him up in his arms and cradling him for a few moments before laying his limp body down so gently on the ground. Popping blasts began escaping his finger tips as he yanked his hands back quickly to not hurt the green haired boy.

But he's dead.

His eyes, unrecognizable from rage, met the face of Muscular who had regrown the muscles of his face and was now smirking down at the shaking form. The large figure grabbed Katsuki's neck and squeezed, choking the life out of him. He struggled, sounds of cracking inside his neck. The creature threw him down, quaking the earth beneath him. Again he reached out, a tight hold around his waist as he lifted him and squeezed. He was taking advantage of Katsuki's weak and distracted state. More cracking, screams echoed back into his ears. But this didn't last long.

Popping and flashing began spreading like wildfire around Katsuki's entire body as his sweat ignited a trail of miniature explosions so fierce that his hair began to singe at the roots. A light sparked in his eyes, and Muscular dropped him in surprise.

“You. Will. DIE!” He screamed as he lunged at the taller figure ignoring the crippling pain of his crushed body, his blasts acting as projectiles causing speeds he never thought possible. He overestimated it and launched too far but reached out his hand in time to hook his fingers around Muscular’s face, using momentum to swing his body around and latch onto his back.

He threw as many explosions as he could. Or at least, as many as his body could allow. Occasionally, he’d use his own strength to hit back with a punch.

He wanted to kill him.

He wanted him to disintegrate.

Yet a part of him couldn’t do it.

After a couple more blows, he felt muscular finally go limp.

He wasn’t dead... But he was unconscious. Bakugo had noticed that he wasn’t fighting at his full strength. Midoriya must have really knocked him clean the first time. His breath was erratic, heart pounding all throughout his body. Mind unfocused, he didn't exactly understand what was going on and what happened. He sat there for a minute staring at the villain, trying to catch his breath. Gasping, he clutched at his throat while tears stung his burning skin still raw from the explosions. His entire body was burning but he could only just feel a slight heat being that he was in shock. Steam rose from his form and black dots swam in his vision as he struggled to maintain his consciousness.

Gripping himself tightly around his waist, he sobbed, shaking and cursing out hoarse whispers.

The sobs rang out like pained cries of a mother losing her child. They ripped through the forest and claimed the ears of Aziawa, Kota, and another figure nearby.

Struggling to maintain his consciousness and continue to breathe at the same time, Katsuki found he could not stand so he clawed at the ground using one hand to drag himself next to the still form of Midoriya.

“I'm- I'm sorry Izuku I'm- s-sorry so sorry” He found himself repeating the words but not hearing himself, nothing but ringing in his ears from his blasts. “I'm sorry I w- was such shit to you. A bad f-friend who couldn't- couldn't protect you.” He found his arms unconsciously wrapping around the limp form, pulling him into his own body. The boy was cold, and Katsuki instinctively pulled him in tight. His head lolled into the blonde’s arm. Trembling, he lightly took his hand and gently ran it through Izuku's hair repeatedly.

He sobbed, dry heaving. Finding it incredibly hard to breathe, his body wanting to give up. Blackness pooled the edges of his vision as he clung onto the only thing that mattered.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Suddenly he felt tugging. Unable to find his voice, he curled into himself, clinging Izuku to him. Voices surrounded him. More villains? He didn't care. He wanted to die.

Everything was blurry and jumbled. Voices spoke to him but he hardly understood them.

“Let g-... Midoriya. Bak-..”

He continued to cry, “It's-.. kay. It's okay. Ba-”

Arms trying to pull Izuku away from him, he managed a scream that sounded nothing like his. “No! NO!” He desperately reached out but hands pulled him back, an arm wrapping around his waist.

“Shhh… it's okay. It's okay.” Came a voice. Aziawa? What?

He suddenly felt a whoosh of air as his strength began to fail him. His body felt on fire and his breathing was hurting too much to bear. He slumped feeling arms embrace him.

Just let me die.

A gentle form scooped up Katsuki in his arms and he was too weak to struggle. His vision blacking out, he heard his Sensei's voice as everything faded.

“Bakugo - stay with me- stay… me. Hold on. Keep- eyes open. Stay -....”

My fault.

***

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Holy. FUCKING. Shit!

The words kept repeating themselves in his mind as he raced in the direction the boy had told him to. It wasn't hard to figure it out anyway, because he heard the blood curdling screams not far away. He would visibly wince at each one and seemingly would quicken his pace each time. The screams were completely unrecognizable, and were nothing he had ever heard in all his years of being a teacher. Aizawa didn't notice that he was biting his lip until he tasted iron.

The boy on his back trembled before speaking, the first time in several tense minutes. “C- cut through there- the path… it's quicker. But watch for the tree...” he pointed slightly east. A tree had fallen in the path recently but Aizawa simply maneuvered around it with his capture weapon. Kota jostled in his grip and yelped, tightening his hold.

Another scream.

Aizawa leveled himself and his breathing as he continued running. His mind was going haywire, he needed to know the situation before getting there. He couldn't spare the kid his emotions.

“Listen, kid.” He spoke between breaths evenly, “I only have one thing to go by here, you told me that one of my students is dying. ” The word felt toxic. “What the fuck-” he winced. Oops. “- happened?”

A barrage of questions were assaulting him, but he needed to focus on the important ones. One at a time Aizawa, one at a time.

Kota didn't seem to mind the slip up- or didn't notice. He took a deep breath.

“I was up there, by myself just hanging out I guess. I- a monster, er, villain came and tried to attack but M-Midoriya he-”

He saved you. Typical, Aizawa thought as Kota confirmed it.

“-but he got really badly hurt and… I mean he beat the guy up and s-stuff but he almost didn't. A-and well he got really hurt too but I helped kinda…”

Aizawa lifted his eyebrow but said nothing.

“Then, then he started saying something about a Kacchan being in danger-”

Bakugo.

Well, shit.

“- he suddenly collapsed and started seizing and- and there was so much blood and-” Kota let out a strangled sob. Aizawa subconsciously quickened his pace yet again. His legs burned. He ignored it.

But that didn't explain the screaming.

“Kid, breathe, okay. I need you to focus. I need to know everything, it's extremely important.” Aizawa pulled his phone out of his pocket and skimmed through his text messages while avoiding a bush of thorns and stopping for just mere seconds to read a reply. Good, they're coming.

“Well - um well he stopped breathing and his heart I think-”

Aizawa's breath hitched and he swallowed thickly. Shoving his phone back into his pocket he tore off again in the direction instructed.

“Then?” he spoke, a little too impatiently.

“Then another boy. Um, I don't know his name he never really talked to me,” he pondered for a moment. “He came and helped Midoriya breathe again. He- he said he lost a lot of blood- he can't be moved a lot. So- so I asked and he sent me to get h-help…” Kota finished at a whisper laced with fear. He closed his eyes and laid against Aizawa's neck, sobbing.

“P-please save him.”

Another scream, then a sound that almost made Aizawa lose his footing. He stumbled and stopped for a second, dread evident in his features.

It was close.

There was a tremendously loud bang, sounding too close to an explosion he was all too familiar with. His blood ran ice cold.

He stood there, afraid of the answer that he was going to get. “Kid, what did that other boy look like?”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Well, he's- his hair is blonde.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“-and he looked really angry.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Silence.

Aizawa felt frozen to the spot. His heart was thudding frantically, so much so that he could feel it in his damn teeth. He didn't know why that of all things was irritating him.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He slipped Kota off his back, recieving no protests. “Can you walk?”

Kota nodded.

Good, stay here unless I call for you. If you don't hear from me in 5 minutes, tuck your tail and run.” He hesitated, and before running off he asked, “What happened to the villain that Midoriya confronted?”

Kota’s face gave the answer before his mouth did. “Well- um he didn't kill him I- I think just knocked him out or something…”

That did it. Aizawa turned and dashed off at speeds Iida would be impressed with. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

What the fuck. What the fuck.

Todoroki blasted behind and in front of him, creating an ice slide capable of helping him move faster than his running speed.

He was so close.

He heard the screams, the explosions. He wasn't far away, he figured why the hell not.

As he got closer however, the screams sounded frantic. The explosions sounded like death. At first, he thought a villain had got caught by Bakugo and was simply pissing him off.

You know, whatever. Typical Bakugo.

But then he heard the pleas.

They were a ways off, but he still heard them, carried by the smoke-filled wind.

“NO! STOP, PLEASE!”

Bakugo, he was sure this time.

Wait, what?!

Bakugo… pleading?!

What the fuck. What the fuck.

Then a series of screaming, explosions.

Finally, silence. Todoroki was close enough to be able to find the source and he quickly did, only to be frozen in his tracks by the sight. He nearly puked right there.

He thought he was in a nightmare for a solid few seconds, pinching himself to make sure he wasn't in the illusion of an unknown quirk. His mouth hanging open, he gaped at the scene.

A gigantic- body? strewn across the middle of the cliffside, Two smaller bodies next to it, one not moving, the other-

Ohno.

Fuck No.

As if the ice suddenly melted in his body, he found himself moving before he knew what was happening. In the corner of his eye, there was a dark figure rushing forward as well. Preparing a fireball in his hand, he readied to launch it but stopped short when he realized who it was. Aizawa.

Both student and teacher reached the boys at the same time.

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