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ethereal-night-fairy · 3 months

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Silver Tongues, like Bullets

Chapter 2

Werewolf!141 x Female Reader

Your camera held darker secrets than any of the men anticipated. It was also the first nail in your coffin. They may have let you go had they foregone seeing those pictures.

Warnings: MDNI, dark themes, manipulation, drugging, punishments, kidnapping, non-con touching, non-con looking, stealing nudes, breast slapping, groping, manhandling, implied jerking off, poly 141 taking care of reader, BDSM themes?,

(images used does not indicate the reader it's just an aesthetic photo)

Comments and reblogs appreciated 💗

Silver Tongues like Bullets Masterlist

Masterlist

Word: 6k

-23/11/2023

A blanket of darkness had fallen over the cabin, the night air getting much icier than before. Not that it bothered any of the boys. They had thick skin and were susceptible to surviving in harsh weather. It was you who they were worried about. It was a shock when they all first saw you. No one was supposed to be able to find this place, not easily that is. It has caused a slight rift in the dynamic of the pack. With Gaz and Soap wanting to help you and him and Ghost walking on the edge of caution. In the end they decided to wait and see. And if they thought they needed to they'd have you restrained until they could confirm your innocence.

Soap had gotten you a blanket but you were still shivering even with the fire burning hot. Price was growing suspicious. Were you purposely acting pitiful to gather their trust? Were you trying to make yourself out to be less of a threat? Gaz looked at you with pity as he started plating the food for everyone. A nice cut of venison with some military ration sides. Ghost seeing you weren't able to regulate your body heat goes to gather more wood from the wood pile. While all this going on Soap can't help but ask you every question under the moon. You were quiet and reluctant to answer anything too personal.

Price comes out of the cabin with a first aid kit. You tense up when he approaches you. Like you were just looking for a chance to run. Your behaviour was strange. You were the one to ask for help yet you looked like you wanted to be anywhere but here. He didn't know what to make of it. His first instinct was to think you were a spy who was caught snoopy and just made a cover story to buy time. If that was the case they needed to stay on high alert if they were being watched by someone. For now he told his boys to stay on the edge of caution even after Ghost had secured the parameters. They couldn't be too careful.

Price came to sit beside you. Holding out his hands to look at your injuries. With some reluctance you eventually place your shaky hands in his. Price held your fragile skin with tenderness. Making sure to wipe away the blood and dirt with care. The damage wasn't extensive but you had certainly taken a fall somewhere in the forest on the way here. You looked disheveled and extremely tired. You flinch and whimper from time to time as Price applies pressure and the iodine on your busted skin. The sounds definitely caused emotions to stir in all of the men. Pair that with your intoxicating scent the situation was a little too convenient. Such a delicate thing you were, you didn't look like you could do much harm. But you can't really trust anyone, not in situations like these. They're been hunted for far too long to not be cautious of strangers approaching them for help. As lovely as you were, the timing and your behaviour was odd.

You held a cup of hot chocolate to your chest, the warm ceramic starving off the cold from your fingers. The blanket wrapped around wasn't doing much for you anymore, maybe you were coming down with a fever. But it was hard to tell because you were so tired. The situation wasn't ideal. You didn't want to be here. And by the looks of it the men didn't want you here either. Fatigue was settling in and you could feel your eyes drooping. The fire was on its last leg, only a couple embers glowing in the dark. You had offered to help clean up but they kindly told you to rest. You watch them mull around tidying up as Soap keeps you busy with idle chatter.

They didn't say much about themselves nor did they indulge you with your questions. The only information they gave you were their weird nicknames and that they were here on a short break after an extended work trip. You couldn't blame them, you wouldn't share too much information with a stranger either. Despite the shaky introduction the men were very sweet to you. Price had helped patch up some superficial cuts on your hands and legs, while Gaz got you something to eat and drink. You were even given a blanket when the fire wasn't enough to starve off the cold. They even offered to drive you into town the next morning. Your parents definitely warned you about trusting strangers, especially men but these four didn't seem so bad. Hopefully you'll be able to call them soon to let them know you were ok. Though you weren't looking forward to the lecture you were going to receive when you got home tomorrow.

Gaz had gone in first to set up your sleeping arrangements. Price followed soon after with the dirty dishes and utensils in hand. You sit for a while longer enjoying your conversation with Soap, despite his forward personality he seemed like a decent fellow. What unnerved you the most was Ghost, he hadn't spoken a single word to you as of yet. On top of that you could only see his eyes. You watch as he puts away the wood in a neat pile beside the cabin. He was a very big man, much bigger than the rest of them. His biceps bulge as he carries the heavy wood to their designated spot. They were all so rugged and well built it made some stir deep inside of you. No one in town looked like that. No one in town had made you feel this amount tingling between your legs.

You're totally oblivious to the fact Soap is watching you eye Ghost with intrigue or possibly hunger. Maybe a mix of both. You totally miss the full canine smirk gracing his features as you continue answering his questions, though a bit sluggishly. He watches your eyes flickering close signaling the effect of the medication slipped into your now empty cup.

The fire finally dies out, causing you to shiver despite having the blanket Soap draped over you. Soap gets up to escort you in while Ghost waits at the entrance of the cabin. You try standing up to follow him, but you find your feet to be unsteady. Everything felt woozy and unfocused, you felt two familiar arms wrapping around your waist, preventing you from falling over your own two feet.

“Careful thare lassie…wouldn't want ye getting hurt again”, he coils his arms around you tighter, taking the brunt of your weight as you try to formulate words in your mouth. He was definitely too close; his face was practically in the crook of your neck. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin. You wanted to tell him to move, to tell him not to touch you so casually. But your tongue felt like lead. There was a weird aftertaste in your mouth that you were only just noticing. You couldn't move and you felt your head lolling over. Something was wrong…something was very wrong! The cup was in danger of falling from your hands as you tried speaking again. You still needed to ask to borrow a phone to call your parents to let them know you were ok.

You watch Ghost walk towards you, taking the cup from your hands while telling Soap to help you inside. With surprising strength and ease, Soap lifts you in his arms bridal style as your head rests on his shoulder. Your eyes are fighting to stay awake as small grunts and moans leave your mouth. You really couldn't form a sentence even if you tried. He coos and shushes you as tears form in your eyes from frustration. You didn't know what was happening, why couldn't you move? Did they drug you!?

The fire was roaring inside the cabin. The frigid air long forgotten as Soap carries you towards a bedroom. Your eyes were hazy but you could make out Gaz pulling back the duvet to allow Soap to lay you down in the very comfy looking bed. Your whimpers and whines ceased the second your head touched the pillow, your eyes becoming so heavy you had no choice but to close them. Your body sinks down into the cloud-like mattress soothing the ache in your bones. You feel them remove your shoes and then your jacket, moving your body with precision and ease. Their melodic voices whispering sweet words you couldn't make out anymore. Sleep was calling to you, trying to slip your head underwater like a siren. But not before you felt two pairs of lips on your forehead wishing you a restful sleep. Eventually you go under, everything fading into black as the warmth of the duvet surrounds your sore body.

“How did you get her down so easily?”, Price inquiries as he settles onto the sofa beside the fire.

“Slipped one of Ghost's melatonin tablets into her hot chocolate”, Gaz walks towards him settling on his lap after placing your phone, camera and jacket on the coffee table.

Once everyone is situated on the sofa that's when Price speaks up again.

“I don't know who she is or how she found us….this place was supposed to be hidden. Laswell organised this trip as an outlet for us to roam freely in our wolf forms. No one was meant to be here apart from us.”

“What if she's a spy?”, Ghost chimes in. “What if she was sent to gather intel on us…it's not the first time an organisation has tried kidnapping one of us.”

“I don't know…she looked pretty beaten up when she found the cabin and her phone was broken…She genuinely could have been lost. She also doesn't have much on her”, Gaz tried to reason with the rest of his lovers. “Not to mention her smell…it was very inviting.”

“Aye she dinnae look like she could dae much harm…But her pheromones were driving meh crazy when Price was patching up her cuts.” Soap reaches out for your jacket, giving it a quick sniff to confirm his findings. “Can we keep ‘er? Promise Ah'll treat ‘er gently…fragile little thing she is..would make a great addition to the pack”

“Let's not forget the last time we let someone close, sunshine here almost got a sedative to the neck”, Price grumbled while eyeing Soap.

“Her pheromones are very enticing…But we can't just kidnap someone because you like the way she smells, especially someone we just met. We should call Laswell to do a background check just to be safe”, Ghost offered while running his gloveless fingers through Soap mohawk.

“It might take a while to get the results and Gaz had promised to take her home tomorrow. But that could prove dangerous to us if she informs anyone of our whereabouts.” The men all nod in agreement as they chalk up a plan to keep you for a while longer, just until they can confirm you aren't a threat. Definitely not for other reasons…

Ghost grabs your phone to plug into his laptop to get any useful information that you hadn't disclosed already. Soap was happy enough beside him going through your pictures on your camera. He just wanted to confirm you weren't stalking them and taking pictures when they weren't looking.

Gaz and Price come to an agreement in pretending like the truck broke down tomorrow morning forcing you to trek back into town on foot, with Gaz guiding you. The only difference would be that Gaz would lead you into the wrong direction towards a nearby lake. They'll have to wait and see how you'd react to being baited.

Once everything was settled they put their plan into motion. Price gives Laswell a call as they crowd around the laptop having no shame in going through your personal information or the numerous pictures you have saved. They mirror your phone screen onto the laptop and the first things that pop up are a plethora of messages from your parents telling you to come home right this instant. Calling you dramatic for ‘faking an emergency’ and that weren't going to call anyone to help or come get you. Telling you they'd kick you to the streets if you continued to act like this. They seemed really pissed off by something. But there were too many messages to go through. It was like reading a soap opera script. Your siblings on the other hand seemed really concerned asking for you to come home quickly, telling you that they were ransacking your room and throwing things onto the street in anger. It seemed a little too convenient of a story to Price.

“This could all just be a ploy”, Ghost suggested. A made-up story to get their pity so you could get closer to them. Ghost and Price didn't want to give you the benefit of the doubt, even though Gaz and Soap were more than willing to believe your story. Probably too enticed by your scent already. They've been in these situations far too many times for it to be considered a coincidence. Especially when a pretty thing wanders somewhere she definitely shouldn't be, spreading very enticing pheromones to a pack of wolves.

They continue their search for something incriminating. Anything to give away you were working for someone. But everything they found felt very mundane down to the nitty gritty details of your life. It almost seemed too normal as if your life was scripted. You must be hiding something even if it wasn't related to them. Everyone had at least one skeleton in their closet. But you didn't or maybe you were just better at hiding it. The pictures on your phone are mostly tame, the main subject being nature and quite a few candid shots of what they assumed were your friends. And obviously you had plenty of pictures of food, but not many of yourself to their disappointment. Gaz seemed particularly disappointed, the younger two men seemed to be taken by you. Even though they've only spent an hour at most talking to you. Your Instagram wasn't much different but your online portfolio had quite a few creative pictures with models. They were often made to look antique or aged and followed a very classic aesthetic. Soap thought it was a shame they couldn't get to see your pretty face.

You could have just stolen these pictures from someone else but they couldn't confirm that either. At this point they thought they saw enough to get to know you. Gaz seemed to want to come to your defense but held his tongue, he knew how dangerous situations like these could get. But to him you seemed like any typical college graduate trying to make a name for herself. Young, ambitious and full of creativity. But you were also naïve and a bit ditsy if what you told them was true. And he so desperately wanted it to be true, the idea of keeping you around was growing on him. One would think if you enter a forest alone the least you could do was pay attention to your surroundings regardless if you were distracted taking pictures or not. It seemed you lacked common sense. Especially when thinking asking four strange men for help was a good idea. Though in your defense it's not like you had many options at that point. It was either this or freeze to death.

It's ok if you were a bit slow or naive Gaz thought, he'll protect you and teach you everything you'd need to know. Once you were cleared of suspicion, that is, Soap and him could definitely work to convince the other two men to agree to keep you. It didn't seem like your parents treated you well, he's sure you'd be happier with them anyways so I wasn't like they were doing something that wrong. In fact they were probably doing you a favour by taking you away from your abusive parents.

Soap was still off to the side somewhere hyper focused on looking at your pictures for some reason. When your camera finally died, Soap let out a flurry of curses.

“Find something useful?”, Price inquiried. Worried you were indeed taking pictures of them to sell or send to whoever you were working for. Soap just mumbles something in frustration before saying no.

Intrigued, Ghost takes the camera from Soap with some trouble. He slots the SD card into the laptop to see what he was moaning about. It's safe to say none of them except maybe for Soap, were expecting those kind of pictures to pop up. You were still dressed, just barley that is. The men took an audible gulp of air, their Adams apple bobbing in their throats. When Ghost clicked on the first exposed picture of you they all felt their mouth becoming entirely too wet and too dry at the same time. They were practically drooling at the sight of your naked flesh.

Ghost was kinda annoyed Soap was trying to keep this to himself. Greedy little bastard. He would have probably jerked off to the pictures after everyone had gone to bed. Only telling them about it when he got his fill.

It was a photograph of you sitting near some wild flowers. In the photo you were wearing a long white dress so the picture wasn't taken today but they wished it was. They wished you came to them looking like you did in that photo. Your dress was pushed up very close to exposing your panties, your legs were strategically parted but not enough to expose yourself. It left them wanting for more and had their fingers itching to touch your warm supple skin. It was ironic how sweet and innocent you came across when speaking to them yet you took pictures like this of yourself? It had Soap blood rushing to his cock and also his head, it angered him that there was a possibility you were taking these pictures for some girl or dude. A possessive feeling entered his heart, he was annoyed thinking someone apart from them could have possibly seen these pictures of you. The other men probably thinking something similar, even if they wouldn't admit it just yet.

Ghost glanced at Soap adjusting his slacks before going back to click onto the next picture. The silence in the room quickly faded when the next picture loaded up. Gaz and Soap let out audible groans at the image. Their cocks were definitely straining in their trousers.

The picture showed you laying down this time still on the grass, your wet hair arranged prettily. But it looked like it was raining. Your face was wet, your lipstick smudged and the white top completely soaked through exposing your erect nipples. You had a demure expression on your face despite the very erotic pictures you were taking of yourself. The more images they clicked the more erotic they became. Though you were at no point completely naked or fully exposed. But by God you knew what you were doing with that camera. You knew your best angles, the natural lighting was perfect, your clothes were arranged just how you intended. They'd mistake you for a pinup model if they had found these pictures accidentally on some website.

The best picture so far pops up and by this point everyone including Price and Ghost are acutely fixated on your devine body, your soft curves and dips. They all probably felt their cocks hardening. Everything about you just seemed so perfect, like you were made for them. It was safe to say even if they found you were actually a spy they'd find a way to keep you next to them. A body so divine would do no good buried six feet under. They had no idea you were hiding such a figure under your baggy clothes they found you in.

The picture in question was of you laying propped up on your side. The top on your dress was pulled down to your waist exposing your chest, torso and stomach completely. The dress was soaked, becoming transparent and your white stockings were on display. You were looking at the camera innocently like you weren't just sitting prettily half naked in the middle of a forest by yourself. Gaz really hoped it was you taking these pictures not someone else. They really ought to teach what could happen to pretty half exposed girls who wander into the forest to take such naughty pictures. Ghost goes to click on the next picture but it just circles back to the most recent picture of a white bunny you took. Everyone was clearly disappointed but only Soap and Gaz voiced their dissatisfaction. Soap tries to take the laptop to return to his favourite picture of you but Ghost slams the screen shut.

“Oye! What was that for!?”, Soap practically seethes, Gaz not far behind voicing his anger.

“She's not some wank material for you Johnny.. Go to bed, we have a long day tomorrow, both of you…”

“I agree, go to bed. You both need to cool down and think with a level head. This girl can be a danger to all of us…”, Price's stern voice rings out, squashing out any room for complaint. The two men grumble and head off to Soap room. “Don't sneak into her room either!”. They let out some pathetic ‘yes sirs’ before closing the door to their room. Price knew for a fact they were going to get each off to the thoughts of your body. He'd hope they wouldn't get too attached to you just yet… there was a lot at stake. He didn't want any of his boys getting hurt because they were thinking with their dicks..

Price tells Simon to put everything back so you don't suspect them tampering with your stuff. They needed to keep up the air that they were oblivious about you. Price rubs his eyes. The fatigue clearly evident in his face. This was supposed to be a relaxing trip…He needed some sleep. The anxiety was eating away at him. He'd be expecting a call from Kate the next morning for an update. It's best to get as much rest as possible..

Rest would have been good for Simon too yet he found himself making backup of all your pictures once everyone left. Price had told him to return everything back but he couldn't bring himself to allow anyone else to see these pictures of you. As much as he was trying to hide it. He found himself becoming infatuated. By your scent, by your demeanor, by your beautiful breasts. His mouth was just itching to latch on your supple skin. Which was extremely concerning, he shouldn't feel like this. Yet he found his hand discreetly finding his way into his boxers as he made copies of the pictures while deleting them off the SD card. It wasn't like you'd notice, your camera had died. Though he did feel cruel for denying his boys pleasure while he was indulging in it himself. He'll make it up to them later once everything is settled and they decide what they should do with you.

-27/11/2023 present time

You found yourself on a familiar sofa again, only this time it was Gaz who was taking care of your wounds. The cuts sting as you try to escape the grasp Soap has on you as he holds you down on his lap.

“Please I'm not a spy…*sob*.. I just want to go home..”

“Settle down hen…nae need tae work yerself up.. we just want tae take care of ye”, you could still hear the residual anger in his voice. He probably got an earful by everyone for allowing you to escape on his watch. But you didn't care, you just wanted to go home. Anywhere was better than being stuck with four strange men. Four very dangerous men who shouldn't technically exist. Your mind was still trying to process what you had witnessed. Maybe it was all a hallucination. There no way men can turn to wolves right? Right? You'd promise never to mention it to a living soul if it meant they would let you go but you doubted they'd take the risk. You had no way to contact the outside world, had no way of escaping four military men with connections. Four protected military men who could technically get away with anything if they can get away with war crimes.

“Ye need tae stop squirming so much hen… or we'll have another problem on our hands”, Soap whispers in your ear. You stop your movements immediately at his words. You try to get off his lap but he just holds you down harder. His stiff cock brushing against you too bagging sweatpants and you felt everything since they had taken your underwear to ‘clean’ while they were nursing you back to health. You hated to admit it but his body heat was pleasant compared to the cold you were just in. But that didn't mean you wanted his hard cock pressed up against your vulnerable unclothed pussy.

Gaz and Soap continue to try to soothe you, but it's of little help because you begin panicking the second you see Price and Ghost getting the truck loaded with their belongings. They were leaving the area and taking you with them.

You feel Gaz brush your hair out of your face as he shushes you with gentle words. You were a fool to think he was ever going to take you home. You partially blamed him for your fall into the lake. Had he not suggested you climb the nearby boulders to get better reception on his phone; you wouldn't have slipped in leaving you mentally delirious for the last couple days due to your aggravated fever. You don't remember much from the last few days apart from a lot of vomiting and the men taking care of all your needs whether you wanted them to or not. Not to mention them dressing and undressing you like a doll whenever they felt like it. Or maybe it was because you kept vomiting but you wanted to blame it on them..

The fight in you dies down as you just resort to crying your feelings out. The boys continue to soothe you but they were probably just making things worse. You were extremely overwhelmed by everything you were witnessing; it was all becoming too much. You just wanted to turn your brain off for a second. You watch Price and Ghost stop in front of you. They had hard expressions on their faces. Dread filled you as you realised what they were going to do..

“Do you want your punishment now or when we arrive back home?”, Price inquiries. But you know he doesn't mean your home he meant their home. You cry even louder not knowing what to do to convince them to let you go. Pleases and sorrys leave your mouth as you beg them for mercy, beg them to see what they were doing was wrong. Trying your best to convince them you weren't a spy. But they wouldn't listen. It's like they had already made up their minds to keep you regardless of whether you were a spy or not.

Price maneuvers you off Soap lap and over his knee as everyone watches with held breaths. You struggle, you really do. With all the energy you have left you fight the punishment you're about to receive. You feel Price's hand rub over your ass giving it an experimental squeeze despite your crying and squirming. It only seemed like a mild inconvenience to him. You feel his hand brush up to the hem of the sweat pants you were wearing which causes you to kick your legs more. It's only then you hear Ghost speak.

“Price maybe we should let her decide her punishment” Price gives Ghost an odd look but decides to hear him out. You quiet down and listen too, hoping for an out from this humiliating situation.

“Let's give her two options to choose from, since it's her first time and hopefully her last time trying to escape”, you look at him like he was your saving grace. That would later be a great mistake on your part since you hadn't heard his options yet.

“What would you suggest?”, Price inquires as he continues to rub your thighs and ass as you held your breath hoping to get out of this punishment. Gaz and Soap look on eagerly knowing either suggestion would have you partially exposed to them. Not like they haven't been oogling your body already, especially while helping you clean up over the last few days. You don't know that though you were too delirious with fever.

“She can decide if she wants slaps to her bare cunt or bare breasts”, your face drops at his suggestion. You were really hoping for something else, like writing lines or doing extra chores like the way your parents preferred punishing you. You start crying again at your predicament. Why was life like this? Why did it have to be you? You were a good person, well at least you tried to be.. Was this your punishment for defying your parents' will? Was God punishing you for being an unfilial daughter? Was it because you wanted to feel sexy in those pictures? Had that evoked the wrath of God?

“Make a decision luv or I'll make it for you…”, You hiccup through sobs trying to ask for forgiveness instead. You didn't want to be exposed to strangers. This wasn't how you expected your first time to be. You had your doubts they'd stop at a simple spanking. When Price goes to pull your pants down you speak up, finally realising you weren't going to be shown mercy.

“M-my…my.. breasts”, you cry. It was the lesser evil. May God forgive you for exposing yourself to these strangers. You're gently made to sit upright as Price forces you to lift Soaps shirt, baring your supple breasts to them. Your squeeze your eyes shut as you clench your hands into fists waiting for the pain to begin. But it doesn't come. You wait and wait but nothing happens. You don't hear them speak or move, which just caused more anxiety. You eventually can't take the suspense and open your eyes to find them all staring, eyes full of lust and desire, hands twitching at their sides. It was as if they were transfixed, unable to break the hold your naked body had on them. It unnerved you, you didn't know what they were waiting for…

“Price…”, you whimper out his name so you can get this punishment done and over with. An inhuman groan leaves his lips at you calling his name so sweetly. Immediately his eyes shoot to yours before they dip down again. He clears his throat as his expression changes back to his previous one of anger, but not really. You close your eyes again waiting for him to do something, your body trembling from the fear and anticipation.

“Five slaps to each breast ok darling?”, You nod your head, your hands clutching onto the shirt tighter. You brace yourself while holding your breath again, waiting for the pain to come. He lays his rough calloused hands over your hard nipples causing your breath to hitch at his gentle touch. You try to squirm away but the first tentative slap lands on your left breast, forcing you to gasp despite it not hurting. The next one that lands is much harder, delivered in quick succession like the rest. Your skin felt hot and raw after each thunderous slap. Tears slip past your waterline as the last blow is delivered to your left breast. The skin he was brushing against felt incredibly sensitive. He pinched your nipples again and they felt harder than before, if that was possible.

You felt the rumble of Price's inhuman growl as his large hands cup your sore breast. He keeps it there, feeling the weight of your bosom in his hand as he experimentally rolls your nipples between his fingers. The dangerous throat sounds you were hearing just froze you in place that you didn't even think to move away even though you wanted to. It wasn't just Price, you could practically feel the other men burning holes into your skin despite having your eyes closed.

Eventually you feel him move to your right. He was being much crueler with his slaps this time around. Every time his hand clapped against your flesh you flinched from the stinging pain. Gasps and whimpers left your mouth more readily this time around as well. The pain was spreading all over your sensitive flesh yet you could do little to prevent it. It felt inflamed and hot and all you wanted to do was hide in a corner somewhere far away. Never in your life have you felt this kind humiliation. The worst part was your nether region felt hot and sticky making sitting extremely uncomfortable. You squirm as you rub your thighs together. Trying your best to alleviate the ache. Hopefully no one noticed.

By the end of punishment you were crying again. The tears didn't seem to want to end this time around. Eventually you felt your top being pushed down to cover your tender sore breasts as Price brought you in for a hug despite you trying to escape.

“You took your punishment so well bunny, such a good girl. I'm so proud of you. Our perfect girl.”, Price coos at you while you still try to escape his hold. But he just tightens his arms around you, plastering your head to his chest as you cry it out. Soap and Gaz chime in too as they caress your head and back showering you with praise for taking the punishment so well.

“Being such a good girl for us, we're so proud of you bunny. You deserve a reward. Let me go get you some water. We'll get you some ointment when we get home luv just sit there and rest for now.”, Gaz leaves the room to get some water at you continue crying.

“Let me give ye a reward hen.. Ah’ll make the pain go o’way. You've been rubbing yer thighs since the punishment started”, You feel Soaps hands move to your thighs. Trying to pry them open for your ‘reward’. But you adamantly refuse while fighting to keep your legs closed, not that it was doing much to deter him.

“No..no…please…no more”, you plead through sobs. Before you can cry louder you feel him being pulled back roughly. You open your eyes to find Ghost holding Soap by the hair as he whines kneeling on the ground.

“That's enough Johnny..Not today”, You watch him help Soap up as he grumbles something about it being unfair that only Price got to touch you. But he eventually relents and goes to follow him outside.

Gaz returns with a glass of water from the kitchen and brings it to your lips. You hadn't realised all that running and crying had left you extremely parched. You gulp down the water not thinking much of it when he gently tips the glass for you. Price has to slow you down your movements telling you you'll choke yourself like that. He takes the glass from Gaz to help you slowly finish it. It's only when you're done that the same chalky taste of medicine you've been tasting for the last couple days makes itself known. They've drugged you again.

You cry and plead for mercy in your last couple minutes of consciousness but all they do is coo at you until you pass out. The last thing you see in your hazy vision is Gaz kissing your forehead while Price gathers you in his lap to carry you to the truck.

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ordon-shield · 1 year

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Febuwhump Day 25 (Assumed Dead): Reborn From Malice

ao3 link (6th in a series)

Link thought he might be dead. He couldn’t see, hear, or even feel anything, his body floating in an empty void for all he knew. Slowly, he started to become aware again, feeling trickling back into his body bit-by-bit, starting with sensation creeping back into his limbs. He was somewhere warm, that was the first thing he realised, enveloped in something warm and comforting, moving around him in pulses, like the beating of a heart.

As he started to wake up fully, he felt it pull away from him, his skin shivering from the cold air outside, before it withdrew entirely, his body slipping out and down onto a cold and rocky floor. Squinting up, he saw that he was in a cave, the stone ceiling above him teeming with the pinkish-purple substance that he’d fallen from— malice, his scattered memory told him. He couldn’t remember much he realised. The malice was all over him as well, coating his skin and staining the clothes he wore.

He could see light coming from one end of the tunnel, so he made his way over, crawling out of the small cave entrance into a small woods lit by the slowly rising sun, the sky still pink with dawn. Looking down at himself in the light, he noticed that his veins were outlined in the same shades as the malice he’d seen, softly glowing in the fading shadows as they crept away from the sun. He could see patterns across his skin as well, like fresh bruises, but when he pushed down on them, he didn’t feel pain— he didn’t feel anything at all, the skin they covered being numb to his touch.

He spent some time just wandering around the forest. It somehow felt familiar even if he couldn’t actually remember it. Part of him wanted to head back to the cave, back to the malice, but something else was pushing him to explore. At some point, he ran into a camp of small red monsters, and immediately tensed, expecting an attack. Instead, they welcomed him in, offering him food and chattering at him in a language he couldn’t understand. He could pick up on the emotions behind it though, and they seemed happy to have him, cheering when he accepted their offer of food. He didn’t know why he’d expected them to attack when they were being so nice.

The sun was high in the sky when he decided to move on, leaving the monsters— bokoblins, his scattered memories had eventually told him— despite their welcome. He had started to feel restless the more he stayed in one place, like there was something vital he was meant to be doing that he’d just forgotten about. Checking the angle of the sun, he decided to make his way… south? Yes, he thought it was south, following a river.

As he walked, the trees gradually fell alway, until he found himself on a sandbank surrounded by water. Off in the distance he spotted what looked like another monster camp, this one much larger than the one he’d been in before. It seemed to be getting late, so maybe he’d head over and see if they’d let him stay the night. As he walked past the water, he took a glance in. Hovering above the sandy floor of the lake, he could see his own reflection, blurred by the rippling of the water. His eyes weren’t blue, was the first thing he thought. They looked pretty cool though, bright yellow slits staring into themselves, and he wondered if they’d glow in the darkness.

He was almost to the monster camp when he ran into the fish person— Zora! That’s what they were called. He’d been happy to see them, wondering if they’d be as friendly as the monsters, but instead they’d pulled out a spear and thrust it at him, shouting at him to get back. He jumped back, hissing in pain as the spear grazed his arm. Glaring at the Zora he felt a foreign anger burn in his chest, as he rushed forward, knocking them off balance with a hit to the legs, before grabbing their spear right out of their hands. It felt familiar to have a weapon in his hands, to be ready for battle. The Zora froze, looking like they were about to run, and he wasn’t going to just let that happen. Throwing the spear to the side, he pounced at them, instincts he never knew he had triggering, as he sunk his teeth into their arm, their sudden sharpness piercing through the tough scales as a sweet taste filled his mouth.

A moment later he was shaken off, loosing his hold on the arm as he was thrown to the side, his body rolling to a stop on the wet sand as the Zora fled. Holding a hand up to his mouth, he pulled it away coated with malice. Giving it a lick to check, he confirmed that it was the sweet taste in his mouth. Pulling himself up, he noticed the graze on his arm had already healed over, only a faint line of malice left where the blade had sliced through his skin.

He made it to the monster camp over the lake soon after, and was welcomed in by the Lizalfos that lived there. They showed him how to hunt fish by leaping into the water and grabbing out out with his hands, and offered him some of their sharp metal weapons, much better than the crude wooden ones he’d seen before. He decided to accept a few, sure that the Zora he’d met before wouldn’t be the only enemy he’d have to fight.

As he got ready to sleep that night, leaning against a lizalfos who’d already dozed off, he felt something… shift in his mind, his awareness of the world changing. He could feel something towards the east, up in Zora’s Domain. It felt like himself, but different and with a start he realised it was the Zora from before, the malice in their wound connecting them, spread from one to another. It wanted to spread he realised, tugging on the newly formed connection, overriding the panicking mind of the Zora. He’d help it.

As he slept that night, he saw images in his mind. A giant shark-like Zora surrounded by glowing stones. A young and awkward Goron wearing a scrap of blue. A white Rito, holding a bow. A small Gerudo girl wearing a golden headdress. An old Sheikah woman, sitting in a wooden house. With the images came one request, one command he knew he would follow.

Infect.

#legend of zelda #loz #the legend of zelda #febuwhump 2023 #my writing #febuwhump #botw #breath of the wild #malice infection au #botw angst #malice link

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thebiscuiteternal · 2 years

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Birthday prompt (happy birthday!!)— Sangyao, any typically fluffy small-business au (eg coffeeshop, tattoo parlor, book store) and make it wrong somehow whether it’s through horror or something dark. Or keep it fluffy! Your choice

(this is more of a library than a book shop, but!)

---

There is no leaving the archive.

Not for him, anyway. The patrons can come and go as they please, trading trinkets of personal or magical value for the books that always make their way back eventually.

But he is trapped, the gem burned into his throat keeping him from passing the glowing barriers at the windows and single door.

All for the crime of daring to try and meet the mage who sired him.

He had tried to get out in the beginning. He still had scars from where he had burnt and re-healed his limbs repeatedly trying to claw through the magic that sealed off the archive from the outer world. The flesh around his his binding gem has grown even uglier from his attempts to cut it out.

The second stage had been trying to escape via his own death. He had destroyed tomes and scrolls in a provocation attempt, only to see them reform themselves. He had attempted self starvation and a dozen other methods, only to wake up again after his body died, brought back by that gods-thrice-damned gem.

Finally, he had given up. And then the boredom had set in, and that had almost been worse than the fear, driving him to give in and take up the job that he had been bound to perform.

It is with an almost clinical sort of detachedness that he tracks down what the patrons ask for as if he is simply some clever automaton designed to do so.

Some days, he wonders if they're right.

On those days, he figures he must be going mad.

When the door chimes to alert him to a new patron's arrival, he prepares to play out his role as he has so many times he no longer bothers keeping count.

Only for the young man looking at him from across the counter to tilt his head and frown in concern. "Are you... okay? You don't look so well."

He stares, entirely caught off guard. Nobody has asked him that since his arrival.

"...What?" he finally asks, his first spoken word in... in a very long time.

"Here- maybe you should sit for a little bit," the stranger says as he rounds the counter, offering a hand as if to help him stay steady. He reflexively jerks back and does lose his balance then, forcing his visitor to catch him before he can hit the floor.

"Sorry! Sorry. Wow, that was close. Let's find you a chair, alright?"

The hands supporting him are warm.

He feels lightheaded, barely registering what the stranger is saying as he's guided to one of the soft high-backed benches that only the patrons ever use.

Once he's seated, the stranger starts to pull away.

He can't let him leave.

There is a startled gasp as he grabs the young man's hands, nails digging into his skin.

"Please..." he begs, but is unable to come up with the right words to explain what he needs, because he has no idea what it is.

A dozen emotions he can't read flicker across those pale green eyes.

And then the stranger sits down beside him.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #sangyao #fanfic

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foxxit-in-earth-kingdom · 1 month

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Was thinking about my old atla oc that I made in high school and it just occurred to me how she would have been portrayed in The Ember Island Players.

Lian was a girl from a tiny isolated village in the earth kingdom that took in people running away from their lives for various reasons. Her mom was a deserter from the fire nation army and her dad was the head of the village.

I came up with this thing where the Avatar would always have a nonbeder as a kind of guide/advisor/companion that was chosen by the spirits. This was to keep the avatar grounded and to keep them balancing their duties between the physical world and the spirit world.

There was a special charm made using all 4 elements that would glow different colors in the glass bead at the center. The different colors would represent different benders, nonbenders and the avatar. Firebender=red glow, airbender=gray stuff like that. The bead would glow pure white for the avatar and black for a nonbender. The chosen companion, however, would glow black and white.

They had some kind of avatar totem that signaled Aang waking up so all the nonbending villagers were tested and Lian was found to be the chosen companion. So she set off to find the avatar. She runs into Zuko at some point early in book 1 and decides to barter information on avatar history for a place on his ship. Basically offering to be his guide to the avatar if she could come with him.

They become friends eventually and all of season 1 and 2 happens. She splits from him at the Northern Watertribe and when they run into each other during Azulas first fight against the gaang she lets herself be burned in order to get close enough to convince him to let Katara help heal Iroh, tells him to meet them in Ba Sing Se, and then leaves with the gaang again.

Then Ba Sing Se happens, Aang Dies, and Lian stays with Iroh to let the others get away. But she thinks her mission is a failure, you know, because Aang died. She ends up being kept like a servant/pet by Azula and her friends so she’s just kind of their tag-along. She kind of builds a friendship with the other girls and after she stops being as mad at Zuko for the betrayal she teases him about he and Mai.

All this to say when she and Zuko finally start traveling with the gang and go back to Ember Island and see the play, the way Her character is misrepresented is as finicky and boy crazy. That she skipped out on her duties as the avatar’s companion because she wanted to date Zuko (you know, since the play was definitely fire nation propaganda).

This would probably have lead to her having the realization that, yeah, she Did prioritize her friendship with Zuko and his emotional growth over her mission. She saw how much he was suffering because of what his father did and wanted to help him. She could have helped Aang work through his fear of firebending if she had just taken the first chance she had to leave with the gaang.

I was unintentionally setting up my OC to have a huge existential crisis and I don’t think I would have even considered it at the time.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar oc lore #avatar oc rambles

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eccentricksies · 1 year

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It was quiet, that never ending absence of any other living occupants of the place. Felt like it vibrated in the air; inside his body till it eventually couldn’t be contained. So he kept busy; deciding he’d start up his own agency and share his space. Most tangible area keeping ties to his childhood- an life of some sorts. And what a difference it made even just finding George. Noises of his experiments and cooking. Sounds of the living. Then came- well he didn’t like to think about it. But that disaster led to Lucy, who for sure had an presence to contend with. More noise, more signs of life filling the place that wasn’t just him, George or the odd clients. And he didn’t want to admit it scared him to imagine losing that. One of them. Both. To move around the space like an ghost again; alone and constantly trying to not occupy the space too long. Staring often at that one door in particular. Sitting there, sometimes not too infrequently talking to memories. Hadn’t done it as much since started work up. Occupying his time and well just not being alone anymore. Only one really strong rule, that room was off limits and he tried to limit the looks or pauses he always had regarding it. --------- He woke up from one nasty nightmare; just sat there in the bed and barely blinking. Throwing on some tshirt, sweatpants in his blind grab for something to wear- it was cold so he also zipped up an jacket. Out into the hallway, figured he’d just do some work till he calmed down. His lack of concentration made it too tough however. So he ended up sat on the kitchen counter. Waiting for the kettle to boil; old mug cradled in his hands and tea sat next to him. Only barely making sure the kettle didn’t loudly wake up George. And while the tea steeped- he thought before jotting down on the thinking cloth. Out of sight. I don’t know how to fix this. ----------- It wasn’t the first time- not likely to be the last one. He’d watched people die before; he had his lungs fail to intake fresh oxygen countless nights. Yet he felt guilty; even if he’d already been sold out. The man had a family, he’d begged them to leave. Maybe, maybe he could have done something to help. Sound distorting, world bending around him and oxygen depleting. Large part of him wanted to grab for the man. Not the time to mourn an stranger. Or to feel the death glow burning into his retinas. Yet his system failed to understand that; fighting against it while getting pulled away from the danger. Get it together, snap out of it and worry about it later. Managing to claw out of the concrete sludge enough to go through the blur of everything following. Only one exit out of the trouble his brain could think of. In the moment; under such duress and he didn’t allow himself to think too much. Or he’d probably just run right for the human threat to his life. Plunging into the water- cold, heavy and it didn’t kill him. As the high emotions, rush of danger wore off unable to help slipping into slight hysterics. Amusement. He wasn’t dead, starting to feel the heavy soaked clothing and rocks underneath him. He’d continue on, she was alive too and when it was all settled. Then he would cry, he would fall apart and feel that cold heaviness but in emotions only. For now he had business, his friends to focus on and all else was future hims problem.

#~you just might end up dead~ lockwood insights #panic attack mention cw #nightmares cw

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bmo-galaxy · 3 years

Text

Okay but what if they kissed?

But just imagine that Naruto and Sasuke kiss at the end. An honest to god, square on the lips, absolutely intentional kiss. A kiss they choose, a kiss on purpose, a kiss that isn't comic relief or shock value. A kiss to explain what drove Naruto forward all these years. The kind of kiss that shows that even now, even after it all, they choose each other and came back to each other and never, ever forgot. A kiss that’s a promise and a fresh start.

Just imagine, if you will, for a moment that Sasuke tells him to shut up and Naruto peels himself from the rock, turning with fire in those blue eyes. The same way they burn before a fight, prepared and focused. Those blue eyes have always been Sasuke’s undoing, reflecting only the earnest truth. Every one of Naruto’s emotions is broadcast in those vast oceans. A strong, steady hand shoots out to fist in Sasuke’s shirt and raven is sure he's about to get headbutted again. Naruto wretches him up and leans real close and Sasuke is waiting for the crack and the pain. A pain that never comes.

The kiss isn't soft or sweet or sentimental. Its all sharp edges and teeth and desperation. A peak into Naruto’s soul, a glimpse at his pain, a taste of his anger. Just as quickly as it starts, the kiss is over. Naruto pulls away with a gasp, sapphire eyes fluttering open. All the fierceness and fury deflates from Naruto and the blonde’s shoulders sag. His fist is still gripping Sasuke’s shirt, but it loosens until it sits flat against the Uchiha’s chest, right over his heart. Eyes falling closed, Naruto basks in the steady beat against his palm. You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive and you’re here.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do that," Naruto admits this in a husky whisper before he can stop himself. Disbelief colors his tone and the blonde shakes his head like he can't believe this is happening. “This is like a dream,” he continues, still quiet and heartfelt. A part of the blonde is embarrassed and wishes he would shut up, but Naruto is just too tired. Mind, body, soul; every bit of him is exhausted, but more than anything, Naruto is weak with relief. Leaving his tongue loose and his inhibitions lowered.

Sasuke struggles for words, struggles to breathe, struggles to understand. Where was the strike, the anger, the hatred for everything Sasuke has done? Why does Naruto look so fucking happy? Bloodied, mangled, black and blue and beaten. Sasuke will never apologize for his actions, standing by hatred for the Leaf and his dedication to his late brother. Naruto, though...

Naruto, who followed him to the ends of the earth. Naruto, who never gave up on him, even when everyone around him did. Naruto, who stood up to him over and over, proudly proclaiming to be his friend every single time. Naruto, who was prepared to lose his dream, his home, his life; and was prepared to do so smiling, just happy to have a future with Sasuke.

Why, Naruto? Sasuke implores silently, watching happy tears streak down the blonde’s cheeks. Why, why, why, why--

"Why?" Is all that Sasuke can think and all he can get past his lips. The one great mystery: why would someone like Naruto, now surrounded by love and praise, chase after Sasuke so relentlessly, the one person determined to cut their ties entirely? Naruto looks up at him with sparkling, vast blue eyes that don't hide anything. A clear, cloudless sky. Every corner of Naruto is laid bare in front of Sasuke, who resists the urge to turn away. Those damn blue eyes have always been Sasuke’s undoing, the one thing consistently able to shakes Sasuke’s resolve and fill him with yearning.

"Don't make me repeat myself, you know why," Naruto chuckles, bashful and blushing now. He scratches his cheek and glances away. "I figure that made it pretty obvious."

Sasuke almost smiles, almost relents his intense stare, because he does know. Far as he tried to run from the truth, he does know why Naruto did all of that. Just like he knows why he was never truly able to sever their connection. Sasuke needs to hear it though, needs to hear the truth he's known for years and years. Why would Naruto do any of it other than-- than-- than--

"Why, Naruto?" And the blonde can tell that the raven is asking about much more than the kiss. Sasuke is asking about everything and Naruto only has one answer for that question. Naruto’s flush darkens, the anticipation and passion and intensity in Sasuke’s gaze is setting the blonde on fire. A wild, uncontainable hope flares in the fox’s chest, seeing all of his own desires reflected in Sasuke’s eyes.

And Naruto would swallow thickly and say the three words he's always held in his heart, always believed in, always protected against anything.

"I love you," Naruto whispers and Sasuke’s heart stops, time stops, everything stops. There’s only Naruto and his burning sapphire eyes. "I love you, Sasuke. That’s why. That’s-- That’s always been why."

It’s the answer Sasuke expects and knows is coming but somehow still knocks the breath from the raven. There it is, the undeniable truth neither had ever uttered out loud. The truth Sasuke hid from. The truth Naruto never let disappear. Against all odds and by some miracle, Naruto loves him.

Naruto loves me, Naruto loves me, Naruto loves me.

"I love you," Sasuke says like a prayer, whispered on the edge of his breath. Uttering the confession makes him feel faintly lightheaded and a breathless chuckle slips from his lips. "I'm sorry it took so long."

Naruto laughs, high and clear and beautiful. A pure sound that kisses Sasuke’s ears and soothes his soul. For a second, in this moment, everything feels alright. Naruto punches his shoulder gently, a fond and affection gesture that’s nothing like the blows they traded an hour ago.

“I really must have rocked your shit for you to be apologizing to me,” the orange ninja teases, smiling brightly. Sasuke rolls his eyes at the comment, shaking his head slowly. Everything is different but nothing has changed. This is still comfortable, familiar, soothing. As if no time has passed at all.

“I’ll make one exception, don’t get used to it,” he needles back. Naruto copies his eyeroll and fights down a giggle. There’s a beat of silence, a moment to bask in the glow. Everything they need is here and even though wounds ache, neither is rushing to locate their comrades. They’ll find us eventually, they both think silently, content to enjoy their moment alone. Naruto scoots a little nearer and Sasuke leans a little closer. One shaking, hesitant arm reaches out to wrap around Sasuke’s waist. The raven haired nin stills initially, survival instinct telling him to run run run before he gets hurt, or overtaken, or killed.

Naruto doesn't hurt him though. Despite everything, in spite of everything, Naruto never hurts Sasuke. Naruto is safe, gentle warmth. Even his heaviest blows somehow felt like a fond caress. Naruto is just good, plain and simple. So, the raven relaxes into the embrace and wraps his arm around Naruto too. The embrace is awkward and sticky, both are covered in grime and sweat and blood, but they don't care. Trembling fingers cling desperately. Tear streaked faces press into necks and shoulders. Their last and first embrace, a new dawn breaking over them. Naruto’s mouth finds Sasuke’s ear and the blonde’s voice warms and deepens with all of his love and gratitude and relief.

"Welcome home, Sasuke."

A sob rises, rises, rises in Sasuke’s chest but he swallows hard to keep it down. It’s easy to remember the last person to say those words to him, easy to imagine his mother in the kitchen as he leaves for school. Everything has been darkness from that day, broken up by brief, startling moments of light. Moments with Naruto, working as a three man team and growing together. The dawn has broken and the warmth of Naruto’s sun is a beacon in the shadows, a breath of hope and fresh air after a long winter underground.

"I'm home," Sasuke replies because it’s true. Naruto is home. Not his first one, but certainly his last.

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mythiccheroacademia · 3 years

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—lunch box

A/N: just another cute idea i had because i’m obsessed with barbarian/dragon king!bakugo and fantasy shit in general. some context: you and bakugo are betrothed—although, sometimes you wish you weren’t bc he can be a real asshole. luckily for you, he’s willing to work on it bc he likes loves you just that much. a litte angst (it wouldn’t be a mtha story without it) but it ends in fluff <3

Warnings: cursing

Your friends looked at their food with heart eyes and dug into the neatly wrapped box with fever.

“Ahh! Thank you for making this, Y/N!” one of them exclaimed. The other could only nod in agreement, too into your cooking to speak.

You smiled and waved them off. “It was nothing. Consider it a thank you for letting me copy the homework last night,” you chuckled.

“Did you cook one for Prince Bakugo? I’d imagine he’d love it! If there’s anyone’s cooking he loves more than his own, it’s yours!”

At the mention of his name, your expression fell. You looked down at the case of food you had prepared for him as an apology.

Four days ago, you two were hanging around his residence. You managed to get him to dance around with you. Well, it more like you were dancing and he was doing his best not to combust in embarrassment. Katsuki warned you that you shouldn’t be too reckless otherwise you’d break something.

Of course, you paid him no mind, too enthralled with your fun to notice your proximity to a nearby statue—one of the Bakugo family’s treasures.

One thing led to another, and you knocked it over, shattering it before either of you could even react. Your rich skin lost its glow and your boyfriend cursed something nasty.

Least to say, his parents were not happy. But instead of being rightfully scolded, Bakugo had taken the blame for it.

They found him attempting to clean it up and assumed it was his fault. You wanted to correct them, but he threw you a nasty glare, sealing your mouth shut. He was now under punishment until they deemed fit and from then on, he hadn't spoken a friendly word to you.

A little sigh escaped your lips. Your two friends looked at each other before offering you encouraging smiles.

“Hey,” one spoke, placing a hand on your knee. You met her gaze. “You should go give it to him. He’d love it.”

There was a moment of silence before you decided to act. Taking the spur of confidence, you stood up and briskly made your way to the other classroom. Just before you entered, you heard his voice and felt your heart waver with anxiousness.

However, now wasn’t the time to let doubt consume you. Things wouldn’t get better until something was done.

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, before opening the door and walking in. Your eyes scanned the room and found the young dragon prince amongst his group of friends.

Jaw set, you walked over to them, hands firmly around the packaged food.

Kirishima saw you first and gave you a friendly wave.

“Hey Princess L/N!”

“Hi boys! How’re ya doing?” you politely asked, putting on your best smile.

They gave you an upbeat answer that lifted your spirits.

Despite that, you hadn't heard a response from Bakugo. In fact, he hadn't even looked at you—but you wouldn’t be disheartened. You fueled herself with faux confidence and held out the dish to your betrothed.

“I-I made you something small yesterday, as an apology,” you stuttered.

Katsuki finally looked up, indifference in his stare. Ruby eyes flickered down to the box filled with rice, chicken, vegetables, and a small pastry on the side. His favorite kind. For a moment, he seemed like considered your offer, but you suffered the low blow of humiliation when he turned away to look through the window.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. Should’ve given it to me earlier.”

Something in your stomach fell. Crushing rejection blossomed up your throat with each passing second. His words were cold, harsh, and unforgiving. It might’ve been stupid, overdramatic even, but it hurt.

Heartbroken wasn’t even the word.

Your nose burned, eyes blurring before you could stop it. Your chest tightened with embarrassment. Luckily, you mustered enough strength to hold in whatever was threatening to crumble you.

“Oh,” you dumbly responded.

“I’ll take it!” Kaminari excitedly said.

“No, I will! I’m still starving!” Kirishima chided.

You placed the box down, struggling to keep up your act.

“Split it between the both of you. I hope it’s good!” You internally winced over how high your voice had become. “I’m gonna to get going now. I’ll see you guys after school, yeah?”

And before anything else was said, you bolted straight out of the room. You hadn’t bothered to look at Katsuki. Knowing him, he probably hadn't noticed the strain in your voice.

As soon as you were out of sight, the tears flooded. You held your hands against your mouth, desperate to muffle your cries. You quickly took you into the nearest bathroom and you prayed no one had seen you lest there be questions. If you went to your friends, it’d cause a commotion. Your parents would eventually find out and you didn’t want any more problems.

So, you cried your eyes raw and eventually willed yourself to stop when it was time to return to class.

…

The week had gone by without another interaction. The weekend brought you some relief since you wouldn’t be forced to see Katsuki’s face for the time being. Or so you thought.

All you wanted to do was run some errands for your parents and then go back home and continue sulking. Yet the universe would not let you rest.

The moment you caught Bakugo’s eyes, you pivoted on your heel and booked it the other way. You assumed his anger with you would force him to keep his distance.

But you were thoroughly surprised to find he was following after you.

“Y/N,” he called.

Irritation and hurt filled your chest. You only walked faster, clutching the purse against her chest.

“Y/N, stop,” he demanded to which you promptly ignored.

This went on for a good thirty seconds until Bakugo decided he had enough. Without much noise, he ran up to you, grabbing you by the shoulder.

You weren’t having it.

You harshly shrugged off his hand. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped, keeping your eyes forward.

“I need to talk to you,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you. So maybe some other time.”

Truthfully, the crowned prince found himself shocked at your coldness. Despite your innate boldness, he wasn’t used to such an icy tone. Especially directed at him.

His father warned him to never attack in these situations, but Bakugo let his temper get the best of him. His first reaction was to frown and deal back harsher words.

“What’s your fucking problem, dumbass? When I say stop, stop!”

A spike of anger flooded your veins. You whirled around on your heel and glared at him with frosty eyes. You felt compelled to drop your papers and slap him, but instead, you settled for a finger in his face.

“First of all, I’m not some dog you can just order around, you jerk! And just because we’re betrothed doesn’t mean I’m some girl you can treat like dirt whenever you feel like it! Until you apologize, leave me alone because my only problem right now is you. Bye.”

And just as quickly as you came, you turned to leave.

Now Bakugo was actually stunned. Forget, cold, this was a side of you he hadn't ever experienced. Admittedly, he hadn’t been spoken to like that from anyone besides his mother—and she only got away with it because she was not only the queen…but he was his mom.

Katsuki honestly didn’t know how to handle it. It was only then that he concentrated back on his father’s advice. Whenever his mother was upset with his dad, his father would fight back, but never with emotional anger. Always with humbleness and an understanding tongue.

It usually did the trick considering his mother could never stay upset with him for more than a night. It always struck the teen with hidden awe. Sometimes, Katsuki thought his dad was an angel.

Bakugo was no angel, but he hoped it’d have the same affect on you.

The blonde teen softened his face and walked up behind you. He stopped you, wrapping his arms around your waist to lie his forehead against the decorated braids the fell down your back.

“Damn it. I’m sorry okay?” he lowly said, face burning from such a public display of affection. “Just hear me out.”

You didn’t speak and he clenched his jaw.

“Please.”

You inwardly cursed your rapidly beating heart. If it weren’t for how stupidly nice being in his arms was (he was definitely working out more), and the fact that you found him kinda cute begging for your permission, maybe you wouldn’t have caved in so easily.

For now, you’d blame it on the fact that you two were destined to wed. It was better to start dealing with fights now so, hopefully, the future held less of them.

You heaved a sigh, unwillingly ignoring your body’s urge to curl in his arms. Instead, you pulled away and turned to face him. You peered into unsure crimson eyes with as much harshness you could conjure.

“Fine. Speak,” you permitted.

There was a small pause as he gathered his thoughts. When he opened his mouth, you instantly regretted it.

“I’m still mad at you for being dumb and breaking one of family’s treasures. And I’m still fucking pissed that my old hag is on my ass about it,” he started and noticed how your eyes narrowed in contempt.

You were about to turn away, thinking this was a waste of time. However, Bakugo took a hold of your wrist before you could leave.

“Leave me alone! If you didn’t want to get in trouble, you should’ve just let me take the blame. I can't believe I thought you’d apologize—“

“Let me finish, princess.”

It was your title, yet you felt your stomach flip when it came from his lips. You refused to let it influence you…but you’d give him another chance.

Bakugo stepped closer to you. “I’m upset, but I took the punishment because I wanted to. You didn’t mean to break it. Accidents happen, I understand that.”

There was a pregnant pause. Then, you softened your gaze a bit, eyes still lit with inquiry. “Why? Why would you do that if it meant getting in trouble? I could’ve taken the blame just fine.”

“Y/N, you freak the fuck out whenever you don’t get a perfect score on an exam. You try not to mess up and when you do, it’s like the world is ending,” he explained with a teasing smirk. You ungracefully snorted. He had a point. “When you broke the vase, I could hear your heart drop. You were two seconds away from crying. And when I saw how scared you looked I just—I don’t know.”

The look on your face was something between shock, surprise, and wonder. You blinked, thick lips parting slightly in awe.

“Katsuki…” you breathed to which the boy heavily blushed. Realizing how sappy he sounded, his mind screamed at him to cut it out.

Bakugo looked down and noticed he was still holding your wrist. He quickly let go and instinctively rubbed the nape of his neck.

“D-don’t be dramatic. I just didn’t wanna see you moping around or some shit. My father said that it wasn’t that important anyway…the vase I mean,” he mumbled.

Sure it wasn’t, you thought. What were you gonna do with this boy?

You supposed an apology was a good start.

“That was very nice and admirable of you Katsuki. Thank you,” you eventually said. “I’m still really sorry about the vase, and for being mean to you just now.”

He shook his head. “I know, but I’m the one that should be apologizing. I ain’t hafta treat you the way I did. I was being an ass for not accepting the food you made for me earlier.”

“Yeah you were, ya bastard.”

He chuckled at that. “The two idiots wouldn’t stop raving over how good it was.”

“Well, I had the best teacher in the kingdom,” you grinned.

“And I had an even better student,” he winked.

Your smile widened. Maybe marrying him wouldn’t be so bad.

You couldn’t help yourself when you heartily embraced him, enjoying how his arms slowly slithered around the small of your back. Your eyes met and you kissed him on the lips, leaving him with a little gasp. You pulled away and giggled under your breath.

“You know, you're a sweet guy underneath all that false bravado.”

“False brav—what the hell are you going on about!?”

Ignoring his explosive behavior, you readjusted the straps on your shoulder before turning on your heel.

“Don’t bring anything for lunch on Monday, okay? I’ll see you later, blondie.”

Despite his little tantrum, Bakugo still watched you disappear into the store with a gentle expression. You gave him more headaches than he cared for, but you were worth it. Besides, he was sure you could say the same for him.

Bakugo turned to leave and passed his fingertips over where your lips touched his own.

He’d never admit to the giddiness in his chest. He’d take that shit to the grave.

#mha #bnha fics #bakugo x black reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugo x poc!reader #mha fics #bakugo brain rot activated #barbarian bakugou #dragon king bakugo #mha x poc!reader #mha x black reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x reader

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ellewords · 3 years

Note

atsumu was like the sun. he shined and glowed and warmed people just by being near them. without a single thought, he was able to brighten the mood in ways that no one else could. even on his darker days or when his being felt too harsh, he left an impact that made everyone long for more. you couldn’t always see him, couldn’t always feel his presence, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there somehow, unseen but known.

by association, that sort of made you the moon. you could shine brightly and leave a warm glow and comfort others when they felt like they were in the dark. but all of that wasn’t possible without the sun. without atsumu.

people didn’t know you unless you were by atsumu’s side. they didn’t spare you a glance until atsumu brought attention to you. but you didn’t mind. all you wanted was to have him by your side, to support you when you couldn’t hold yourself up, to be brilliant beside him even if you would never outshine him. you were content in your current situation.

so why did it hurt so much seeing him continue to shine? why did his warmth suddenly feel so cold? why couldn’t you be as bright as him all on your own?

or, atsumu will always be the sun, you always the moon. maybe now it’s time to accept that you’re nothing without him so you can finally shine for yourself.

-💛

— from elle ! 💛anon you never miss, do you? aaaa this was so good it lived in my head rent free ever since i first read it >_< i just had to write an addition to this for the way you made my heart actually ache. i hope i did your drabble justice :<< this just hit a lil too close to home ngl thank you for reading everyone, i hope you like this! reblogs are appreciated, they help a ton <3

fic notes / warnings : timeskip!miya atsumu x gn!reader, angst, fluff (-ish? kinda) ending, oneshot, wc: ~1.52k (!! my longest margins addition so far omg)

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

atsumu has a gravitational pull, that much has always been clear to you and everyone else; a pull so strong that you can’t help but orbit around him. every room he walks into, he commands the attention of everyone present. one can’t help but simply be drawn to him — with his bright smiles, boisterous laughs, and larger than life movements. it’s no wonder why everything seems to bend to his will, how the universe seems to revolve around him.

you’ve moved around him for as long as you can remember, every now and then, he lets you borrow his light. the world has associated you with him and you don’t blame anyone one bit.

his name has always come first. setter for the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. invited to the all-japan youth intensive training camp, miya atsumu. captain of the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu.

meanwhile, yours is treated as an afterthought, an attachment, a footnote in the awe-inspiring narrative of his life. you’re known as his childhood friend. his best friend, the one who cheers him on from the stands in every single one of his games. alleged significant other, according to whispers in the hallway and to the tabloids and paparazzi. his eventual confirmed significant other, ln yn.

atsumu and who’s that with him? atsumu and his best friend. atsumu and his significant other. atsumu, oh, and yn’s here too. it’s always atsumu before yn; his name before yours. sometimes, you wonder if anyone would know your name if he hadn’t started dating you.

you walk behind atsumu, not beside him, when you enter a room. fingertips loosely intertwined with his, you attempt to keep your head up as atsumu introduces you around. they spare you a quick “hi”, before beginning a conversation with your sun.

though he’s not really your sun, is he? you’ve always had to share him with everyone else. everyone needs a little sunshine in their life, a little warmth; his brilliance is dazzling, like everyone else, you revelled in his glow.

the world has always associated you with him, but it never worked the other way around. atsumu has always shined on his own; you needed him to have light for yourself.

no one blames the sun for burning a little too bright; it’s simply the way it is. similarly, you’ve never blamed atsumu for being the way he is. he doesn’t know, didn’t mean to do it in the first place. atsumu has always existed for himself, lived life the way he sees fit.

you can’t blame him, no matter how much you wanted to. even if you forced yourself to.

staring at the sun is fascinating, but do it long enough and it starts to hurt. the warmth is no longer comforting, but harsh and prickly. the light is no longer magical and dazzling, but blinding and terrifying. it took some time, but you eventually convinced yourself to look away.

“ya sure ya wanna do this?” atsumu asked, immediately recognizing your hesitance. he doesn’t want to break up, he wants you to take your words back, he wants you to tell him that this was all just some sick prank. but right now, it doesn’t matter what he wants. what matters is how you feel, the emotions he didn’t realize you had been feeling.

“no…” you mumbled. the intensity of his gaze makes your knees buckle, but you stand your ground. even in the chilling darkness of his living room, he radiates light and understanding, making everything all the more difficult. you bite the inside of your cheek, letting a few beats pass before your next words, “but i have to.”

“i believe in you,” atsumu nodded, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jeans. he lets out a quiet exhale, eyes gazing on the suitcases in your hand, “yer gonna do so many amazin’ things.”

your grip on the bag’s handle tightened. it was the end of an era, one that you didn’t expect would be ending at all. but it had to be done. for the first time since you met atsumu, you finally began to think of yourself. a small smile plays on your lips, hoping that he picks up on the pure gratefulness of your tone, “thank you for lending me your light.”

his reply would play in a loop in your mind. even in a breakup, the darkest the night has ever been, atsumu offers you a little bit of light. as expected from the sun.

the moon goes through several phases. some days are better than others. it’s a wave of several highs and lows, but you grow to understand that’s how things are. on some nights it’s as invisible as they come, the clouds blocking out what little light it already produced. though it glowed on other nights, you often feel like nothing has changed. but you learn to trust the process either way.

gazing at the moon is calming, not dazzling and exceptional, but calming. it provides peace, serenity. you often gazed at the moon, especially on the nights where you could only toss and turn. a cold breeze would blow past you and send shivers down your spine, painting your bare skin with several goosebumps. leaning on the balcony railing and taking in the sounds of a city that barely slept makes you think of him.

you miss the sun; you miss your sun. you miss his presence and the warmth he brings you. atsumu checks in every now and then, asking how you’re doing and wondering if you’d ever want to meet for a cup of coffee. you’ve never accepted any of his offers for fear of only getting pulled back in.

you’ve never realized that you always had a gravitational pull of your own. atsumu spends most of his nights gazing at the moon. when his heart raced and his mind buzzed, the moon brought him tranquility — as did you, his anchor.

[ miya atsumu ] : the night sky is nice tonight, it makes me think of you. i like that we’re always looking at the same one.

[ miya atsumu ] : i hope you’re doing okay.

he’s right, the night sky does look nice. the moon is full and shining the brightest you’ve ever seen it shine. gleaming, enchanting, and breathtaking doesn’t seem to do its beauty any justice. perhaps the poets and artists had been right all along, the moon is the perfect muse. your thoughts almost convince you that its light isn’t artificial. but twinkling beside the moon are the stars, shimmering high above the world you know, their light completely their own.

you’re not okay. being the moon may not be too bad, but you’ve already realized that you want to be amongst the stars as one.

days turn into weeks, and eventually months. sometimes they blend together when nothing of interest or importance happens, though you strive for events that are worth remembering. you’ve found a job that you actually like, one that you truly excelled at. you’ve started to put yourself out there, to meet people that pushed you to be better than you had been the day before. slowly but surely, you began to create your own light.

some days your light faltered, some days are dimmer than others, but it was a light of your own. it’s one that didn’t need another’s glow to exist. soon enough, you find yourself accepting one of atsumu’s many offers for a cup of coffee.

he’s now brighter than ever. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu, has turned into setter for japan’s olympic team, miya atsumu. his radiance is as blinding as ever, the largest grin on his face as he waves his hand out the second he caught sight of you.

but you’re brighter now too, weaving through the cafe tables with your head up high. you’re more sure of yourself, standing taller, making each step towards him with purpose. you’ve lost the tension in your shoulders, the weight that built in your chest. and atsumu notices it too.

“you’ve changed.” he smiles, much softer than you’re used to. his gaze is fond as you settle in the seat in front of him.

“i know,” you reply, the corners of your lips twitching upwards, “but thank you for lending me your light.”

atsumu’s smile remains that same soft one that you’re not used to as he recognizes your words almost immediately. he leans back in his seat, gesturing a hand to you, “never gave ya anythin’, this is all you.”

he replies with the same words he said several months ago, the latter half of the sentence being the only addition. warmth fills your chest as he never lost a single ounce of sincerity. the only difference? this time you actually believe him.

atsumu may still be the sun, but you’ve become a star in your own right; you no longer need him to shine. maybe someday you’ll shine bright enough to allow yourself to exist beside him. but for now, this is enough.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

send me a hc / or a scenario ! <3 | written on the margins masterlist

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

Four Seasons

Summary: Jaskier is the god of winter and he gets invited to the four seasons ball. A formal celebration held by the the gods. This is finally the moment that Geralt realises just what Jaskier the bard really is.

Rated: T

Length 1.8k

CW: Jaskier wears a dress, brief mention of gods being genderfluid

Based of this art by @little-piece-of-tamlin. Another @thewitcherbog special!

________

As far as Geralt was aware, Jaskier was just a normal, very human bard. Jaskier had never said as such but people made assumptions, and he was happy to let people go about their day and think whatever made them most comfortable. Most people would be uncomfortable in the presence of a god, or they'd bow down, grovel at his feet, which whilst fun for a short period of time, got horrendously dull very quickly. He was a free spirit, especially during the summer months. Winter was a busier affair but Geralt was always tucked away in Kaer Morhen so never noticed Jaskier’s more immortal side during the coldest time of the year.

Geralt was about to get the shock of his lifetime.

It wasn’t as if Jaskier had planned it but the invitation had come in from Priscilla in the spring and he couldn’t just ignore it. The Four Seasons ball only happened once a century and it had completely slipped Jaskier’s mind, but he wouldn’t just abandon Geralt. The poor witcher might have thought he was dead if he hadn’t turned up at their unofficially agreed meeting place. So Geralt would just have to join Jaskier for the ball, and after that there would be no hiding. He was a guest of honour and gods and mortals alike would bask in the magic of the changing seasons. Most mortals wouldn’t remember the ball afterwards, the magic too powerful for their tiny little brains to comprehend, but those blessed by a god’s favour could remember.

And of course, Jaskier had blessed Geralt. One could not hold a god’s heart and not be blessed.

“You’re quiet,” Geralt grumbled as they made their way up to the rooms Jaskier had secured for them.

“I received an invitation to a party. I was hoping that you might come with me,” Jaskier stammered, feeling the frost creeping through his veins as it always did when his emotions started to get the better of him. He could melt snow and ice with a simple smile, but when he got anxious, things started to get a little frosty. The air temperature outside the tavern had dropped considerably since they’d arrived, but he doubted anyone had really noticed. It was late in the day and the change could be blamed on the setting of the sun.

“Already? Whose partner did you bed this time, bard?”

“Oh haha, very funny!” Jaskier scoffed, ignoring the frost glistening on the windows of their room when they stepped inside. Deep down he knew he needed to get a grip. Pris would be pissed off if he ruined her spring thaw with his own emotions, his poor sister would have to work even harder to counteract the effects of his magic, but it was always more difficult to rein in his magic in the spring. It was still strong from the winter months, and there was an adjustment period.

Even still, the snowfall last summer after the blasted dragon hunt had all three of his siblings up in arms against him. Valdo had to trigger autumn early and the whole harvest had been a mess.

He really should just tell Geralt he loved him and deal with the consequences, but… well… it had been a long time since he had loved like this and he still nursed the heartbreak.

“Jaskier?” Geralt said, snapping him from his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked, focussing back into the room. He meant to say “nothing” or something along those lines. Something harmless and easy.

What fell from his lips was another thing entirely.

“I love you, oh bollocks!” Jaskier blurted, clapping a hand over his mouth.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, I mean… Jaskier,” Geralt gestured to the room, there was a snow flurry above them and the windows were completely iced over. He desperately tried to think happy thoughts, the warm golden glow of Geralt’s eyes. The soft growl of his voice whenever Jaskier did something stupid that would get any mortal killed. Even if Geralt never loved him back, the thought of his witcher was enough to soothe his panic. With one last deep breath and a flick of his wrist, the snow was gone, “What the fuck?”

“Oh fuck, Pris is going to kill me,” Jaskier whined. “I- umm…”

Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, one hand was holding his medallion and he just looked… well, done? Shit. Fucking cock balls.

“Explain, bard.”

“I love you? Quite hopelessly, I’m afraid,” Jaskier smiled sheepishly, his tongue flicking out to flick his lips, a nervous habit that he’d never quite overcome. “But!” he announced with false bravado, “that’s neither here nor there, it’ll pass. No need to worry about me, witcher.”

“And the snow?”

“Oooh yeah that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, there’s a chance that I might be a god, hypothetically speaking of course. I’ve always favoured the winter months,” Jaskier admitted, flexing his fingers and pulling at his lute strap.

“You hate winter,” Geralt growled, still painfully ignoring Jaskier’s love confession but that was fine. “You always spend the winter in that cushy academy of yours.”

“Not strictly true,” Jaskier sighed, “but are you coming to my ball or not, witcher? My sister has invited us both, apparently I don’t shut up about you, probably part of the being in love thing.”

“No, you just don’t shut up.”

“Rude! Fine, be that way, Geralt. I’ll go alone,” Jaskier huffed, pouting with his whole body in a way that he knew Geralt always fell for. “It’s a shame, I had a perfect outfit planned. Gods don’t play by your rules of gender, and oh you should see me in a dress, I look absolutely divine, quite literally in fact.”

“If I come with you, will you be quiet?” Geralt sighed.

“Now, now, we both know I can’t promise that.”

Geralt groaned before slumping onto the bed, the only bed, and it took Jaskier another half an hour to get Geralt ready for the ball. It helped that he could use his magic now that Geralt knew, but the witcher still fought Jaskier on the pale blue doublet that would match Jaskier’s dress perfectly. No man, mortal or otherwise, could fight Jaskier’s eye for fashion and eventually Geralt gave in. It helped when Jaskier reminded the witcher there would be no need for armour in the presence of gods, there was no monster they couldn’t best, and so reluctantly Geralt left his worn out witcher armour on the bed, and let Jaskier dress him.

“Did you mean it?” Geralt muttered.

“Mean what?” Jaskier asked, cocking his head as his magic weaved through the fabric, subtly marking the witcher as his, no other god could claim Geralt if Jaskier already had, and he just didn’t trust his brother, not after the Countess de Stael.

“You love me?”

“With all my heart and soul, darling,” Jaskier admitted softly, his fingers freezing on the collar of Geralt’s doublet, now printed with buttercups. If one were to look closely they would see the tiny little snowflakes that made up the design, “but I- I understand if you don’t feel the same. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to tell you.”

“Hmm.”

“Is that alright, Geralt?”

“Yes. I- shit,” the witcher growled, “It’s not easy for me, witcher don’t-”

“Oh fuck off,” Jaskier snapped. “ Don’t you fucking dare, Geralt. Witchers don’t feel. Whatever whoreson told you that-”

“I know. I know, but you got hurt, because of me, and seeing you lying there in Yennefer’s bed. I thought I’d lost you,” Geralt snapped, his golden eyes burning with fire.

“And that was the day I lost you… to her,” Jaskier sighed, “I was never in real harm. The djinn magic just hurt this body, and I’m rather fond of this one, but I would have survived.”

“You didn’t lose me, Jaskier. Yennefer, she’s, she’s less fragile, and the wish, my wish,” Geralt shook his head.

“Ah yes, you bound yourself to her, my poor aunt, you call her Destiny, was not impressed with that one, but never mind, dear heart, your destiny is set now,” Jaskier pressed a kiss to Geralt’s cheek. “Of course, I could undo it. Djinn’s magic has nothing on mine, but the bond between you and Yennefer means nothing. It is a tie, not a love potion. I know you love her, Geralt.”

“I love you, Jaskier,” Geralt said all too quickly, and Jaskier froze, his heart racing in his chest and the world spinning around him in a blur. “It was easier to pretend that I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“Oh fuck,” Jaskier cried out, whisps of frost dancing through the air around them. “You- you love me?”

“Yes, Jaskier,” Geralt repeated, rolling his eyes and shooting Jaskier a fond smile. “I love you.”

Jaskier beamed, and with a flick of his wrist his doublet and breeches melted away into a beautiful icy blue gown. The fabric was cold against his skin, a mesh of snowflakes so thin that the pale blue fabric was sheer. He left his arms free of sleeves, and winked as he saw Geralt’s eyes go wide as he took in the muscles that Jaskier usually hid under his clothes. He thought about taking on a more traditionally female form to fill out the cleavage in the dress, but he rather liked the way Geralt was looking at him with a dark hunger in his eyes. As he stepped forwards his boots shifted into elegant high heels, a dark navy blue with thin straps around his ankles.

“Jask,” Geralt breathed, “You look…”

Jaskier winked at his witcher, cupping his cheek with his hand. “There, now we match.”

“You’re taller than me.”

With a giggle, Jaskier nodded, looking down at Geralt for the first time in their acquaintance. They’d always been similar in height, but Jaskier’s shoes gave him the edge now. “Well, you are my guest for the evening, and no mortal should rise above their immortal, it goes against court etiquette.”

The witcher scoffed, “When have you ever given a shit about etiquette?”

“Human etiquette, witcher, not the gods’. This is different. This is my home, now come on, Pris will kill me if I’m late again.” Jaskier scooped up his lute, and took Geralt’s hand in his. “Are you ready?”

“No.”

“Hold on tight, darling,” Jaskier grinned.

“Wait, fuck, Jaskier! Not a portal!”

But the witcher’s protests were swallowed up in a flurry of snow as they were transported to the realm of the gods. An echo of Jaskier’s musical laugh hung in the air as the snow settled on the ground as the witcher and his bard set off on their latest adventure.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #wolfie’s witcher writing

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years

Text

Under Silken Skies [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

A/N - just an angsty little oneshot I needed to get out of my head. Fufills my Break Up Square on my CM Bingo Card for @cmbingo . My permanent Tag List is open. Find my CM Bingo Masterlist Here. Find my full masterlist here.

My request are also Open for prompts/reqs/headcannons/aesthetics or just to say hi.

CW - major character death and lots of angst. Very vague mentions of smut and virgin! Spencer, vague mentions of Maeve and what happens to Spencer in the S15 finale (if it had ended differently). This does not have a happy ending.

WC: 4K

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

He was eleven and you were thirteen. You didn’t know his name, only he was smart and awkward and got teased because of those things.

You found him tied to a flagpole as you’d left detention one night on your way across the soccer field. He was naked aside from his underwear and blindfolded.

He cried as you untied him, his skin like ice. You insisted you were there to help, whether he believed you or not you weren’t sure.

You stripped off your oversized jumper and slipped it over his head, helping him guide his arms in the holes. He didn’t thank you. He didn’t ask why. He just wrapped himself in the warmth.

He told you his name was Spencer. Spencer Reid and he’d been tricked by a girl and stripped of his clothes and tied to the flagpole.

He’d been there hours before you found him.

You sat together on the dewy grass, no more than a handful of words passed between you. He asked why you’d helped, why you’d stayed but you’d simply shrugged.

Maybe you’d felt bad for him or maybe you’d felt drawn to him. You knew all about school bullies.

He seemed so small and unsure of himself, as though the mere act of sitting with you was cause for panic.

He didn’t make eye contact. You saw him glance in your direction a few times when you weren’t looking.

He was so fragile you didn’t understand how anyone could do that to such an innocent creature. He just wanted to fit in, isn’t that all we really wanted?

He couldn’t help being smart.

There was a sadness about him that went further than what the bullies had done today. You could tell it was the kind of air that followed him around, a permanent dark cloud.

It hurt you to know someone so young could carry so much pain. It didn’t seem fair that at his tender age he already seemed defeated by the world that surely had so much more to throw at him.

What if he wasn’t strong enough to cope with the terrors of the world? You hoped maybe these formative years would make him stronger against what was to come. Maybe it was helping to build up those walls early, making him stronger for the horrors he would no doubt have to face later in life.

You weren’t sure, but one thing you were sure of was Spencer Reid had sad, sad eyes. You could tell he needed a friend and maybe you could be it. Maybe you could protect him.

So for now the two of you sat side by side on the soccer field, under the moonlit silken sky.

***

He was twelve and you fourteen and he was finally getting out of the hell hole that was high school.

It was his graduation day and his gown drowned his small frame and his cap was too big for his head and kept falling to the side.

You straightened it for him again and gave him a soft smile.

He was going to CalTech in the fall and you were so proud of him, but gosh were you going to miss him.

It had only been little over a year since the night on the soccer field but the two of you had become friends. He helped you with your homework and you kept the bullies away from him.

You’d become his protector, he looked up to you and although he would never tell anyone this, he had a crush on you. A big one.

He was excited about CalTech but he was sad to leave you.

There were a lot of mixed emotions in the air. You’d stay in touch and he’d come back and visit but it wouldn’t be the same.

Who was going to keep him safe at college? Who was going to keep an eye on him? What happened if the bullies at CalTech were even worse and you were hundreds of miles away not being able to do anything about it?

He’d told you not to worry about him, that he’d be fine but it was hard not to. He was still so tiny and fragile, like a baby bird and if truth be told you were scared for him.

“I’m proud of you Crash.” You straightened his tie.

He rolled his eyes under his thick glasses. One time you’d heard his mom call him that and you hadn’t stopped calling him it since.

“Thanks Y/N.” He smiled but it was a sad smile.

You placed your hands gently on his shoulders, knowing what he was thinking. You’d gotten really good at reading his mind.

“Me too.” You whispered. You leant close and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

His face turned crimson and he chewed his lip. His cheek felt like it was on fire where your lips had touched him.

“Come on Crash, it’s time.” You slid your hand in his and started leading him towards the stage he was going to walk over and accept his diploma.

Within a matter of weeks he would be gone and you’d be alone again just as you had been before you’d met him.

So for now the two of you walked hand in hard across towards the stage, under the sun soaked silken sky.

***

Spencer was sixteen and you were eighteen and you’d just witnessed his second graduation; this time from CalTech.

The gown fit him a lot better this time than it had at his high school graduation. Over the last year or so he had sprung up in height, now towering over you. He had grown up a lot over the last few years. He was slowly becoming a man.

“Look at you.” You nudged him in the arm. “So grown up.”

“Shut up.” He batted you away with a shy smile. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I knew all you were going to do was embarrass me.”

“Sorry Crash.” you smirked. “I am so, so proud of you kid.”

You gently tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. His cheeks burned in embarrassment.

He was coming back to Vegas and you would have been thrilled if it wasn’t for the fact in a few months you were going off to college yourself.

It seemed unfair life had brought you together only to tear you apart over and over again. There seemed like there was never a right time for the two of you.

“You ready?” you asked him softly, trying not to focus on the thought of being torn away from him again.

“Almost.” he nodded, taking a few deep breaths.

You assumed he was trying to calm his nerves before taking to the stage for his graduation ceremony but it wasn’t that.

His hands were shaking when he came close to you and placed them on your hips.

“What are you doing?” you tilted your head at him in confusion.

Before Spencer could change his mind about his next move he closed his eyes and moved in close to you. His lips were so soft as they pressed against yours, barely ghosting your lips. You could have been convinced it hadn’t even happened.

He chewed his lip bashfully when he pulled back, looking at the floor.

“Sorry.” he whispered. “I uhm...lets go.”

He walked past you, leaving you staring in his wake.

Had that really just happened?

You brushed your fingers against your lips in disbelief. But your lips were tingling, it had definitely happened.

Eventually you followed him in confusion but there was no time to ask him about it. Hopefully you’d get a chance to later.

So for now you walked behind him, watching him adjust his cap, under the Californian silken sky.

***

Spencer was now eighteen and you were twenty, in your final year at Georgetown.

Spencer now had a doctorate in mathematics and was working towards one in chemistry. He kept talking about doing another doctorate in engineering when he was through.

He had grown even more so and was really starting to grow into his looks. He’d always been cute, but recently when you looked at him you saw a handsome man looking back at you.

Hanging out in your dorm that night it was hard to say how it started. One minute you’d been engrossed in a movie, your head on Spencer’s shoulder and the next you lips were pressed together, his tongue exploring your mouth.

He hadn’t kissed you again since his CalTech graduation and you didn’t know where this had come from now. But you did know you’d been thinking more inappropriate thoughts about your friend as of late and they were seemingly materialising in front of your eyes.

Spencer was a virgin, you were not. In that moment you wished he could have been your first time.

It was slow and gentle and Spencer was a bag of nerves the whole time. He groped at your body with seemingly no purpose other than to feel every part of you.

He didn’t last long, the feeling of being inside of you was too intense, too sensational. But it was nice. It felt right. It felt like home.

Afterwards he held you in his arms in your small single bed too nervous to look you in the eye. You stroked circles on his bare chest feeling the most content you’d felt in a long time.

You both stared up at the ceiling which you’d painted midnight blue and was peppered with glow in the dark stars.

“Spence?” You whispered softly.

“Yes Y/N?”

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

He exhaled and pulled you into him closer.

“I know.” He kissed the top of your head. “And I love you.”

You didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. You didn’t know if this was a one time thing or if this meant you were together now. You suppose it didn’t much matter right now. The only thing that mattered right now was Spencer holding you in his arms.

So for now you laid there together on your dorm room bed, under a mural of the silken sky.

***

He was twenty two and you were twenty four, and he’d just been offered a job at the FBI.

In Quantico, Virginia.

You were sure you’d spent your whole relationship out of state from one another. The past three years Spencer had been away while he worked on a second BA and then his third doctorate.

Since leaving college you’d stayed put in Vegas, getting a job as a curator at a local art gallery.

You saw Spencer when you could but it never seemed to be enough. At least not for you.

And then he’d dropped the bombshell about his job offer and told you he was moving to the other side of the country.

It had been hard enough over the years to maintain your relationship but you were sure this would be the death of you. And so you’d told Spencer it was time the two of you went your separate ways.

He’d tried to argue that you could make it work but you weren’t willing to find out. The four years you’d gotten had been amazing but all good things had to come to an end.

And maybe you and Spencer had never been destined. It had always been just a little too difficult. You’d finally thought once you were in the same state it would be easier, but he was leaving again.

It was hard but he supposed he understood. He would miss you with every fibre of his being but this job was too good for him to pass up.

You told him if you were meant to be, you’d find your way back to each other one day, although you weren’t sure you believed that.

You sat on the swing set in the desolate park together, hands entwined together as you swung back and forth on your separate swings.

He was leaving tomorrow. He was packed, his flight was booked and he had an apartment to go to in DC.

He was leaving and you were staying and it broke your heart.

“I’m gonna miss you Crash.” You squeezed his hand.

“I’m going to miss you too Y/N.”

It felt like the end of an era but an era that had never really had a chance to begin.

He was supposed to be your one true love, your greatest love story. But this story didn’t get a happy ending.

You swung back and forth into the night, just revelling in being with him one last time. You couldn’t think about tomorrow. Tomorrow was a world away.

So for now you swung, hand in hand, under the midnight silken sky.

***

You were twenty nine and you loved him, you really loved him.

He had turned your whole world upside down and made you feel things you’d never thought you’d feel again.

You loved him, you really did.

But he wasn’t Spencer Reid.

Maybe you’d gotten lucky and got to have two great loves of your life. Your life with Spencer was over long ago, it was only fair you were allowed to move on.

You wondered what twenty seven year old Spencer was doing with his life. Was he still at the BAU? Did he get a fourth doctorate? Was he happy?

God you hoped he was happy.

It was a small ceremony in front of your closest friends and family. No frills, no fuss. Just you and him being joined in matrimony.

He was a good guy, a nice guy; he treated you right and he loved you. At the end of the day, that’s all that mattered right?

So you didn’t get butterflies in your stomach when he kissed you. Maybe you didn’t go weak at the knees when he looked at you or felt like you were coming home when you made love. And so what if you’d felt all those things with Spencer? That didn’t matter, did it? It didn’t mean you didn’t love your new husband.

It was just a different kind of love. You weren’t in your teens falling in love for the first time. This was the kind of love you had when you grew up and got older. It didn’t mean it meant any less; that he meant any less to you.

He led you outside by your hand as your friends and family showered you in confetti. He turned and smiled at you brightly. He looked the happiest you’d ever seen him, you didn’t know if you could match his happiness.

You smiled back at him, probably not quite meeting his enthusiasm but if he noticed he didn’t say as much. It was only now that you looked down at the ring around your finger did it suddenly feel like a noose. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about how wrong it suddenly felt.

So for now you allowed your new husband to kiss you, under the Vegas Springtime silken sky.

***

He was thirty one and she was thirty. Her voice was like honey and he yearned to be able to hold her in his arms.

Her name was Maeve Donnovan and she had a stalker which was preventing them from meeting.

It was the first time Spencer had felt anything akin to love since you. He was sure he would never love again, you were the only person that could take that place in his heart.

And then had started having headaches and sought out the help of a geneticist and he started falling in love with her. For the first time in years you weren’t the first thing on his mind when he woke up in the morning. He didn’t spend all his waking hours pining over you.

Maeve was slowly but surely replacing you in his heart. And Spencer really needed that. He needed you finally gone from his mind.

“I think the stalker’s gone Spencer.” she’d told him that Sunday on the phone.

A huge weight had been lifted from her voice, he could hear the smile in it down the payphone. He couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure yeah.” she was smiling brightly. He knew she would have a beautiful smile.

“That’s great Maeve.” he smiled, gripping the phone in hands.

Did that mean what he thought it meant? Could they finally meet now? Have a normal relationship?

“I want to meet.” her words were rushed as though she weren’t sure she should be saying them. But he caught them.

She wanted to meet. She wanted to meet him.

He didn’t care what she looked like because she was already the most beautiful woman in the world to him. But what if she didn’t like him? What if he was too nerdy, what if his hair was too long and messy? What if she took one look at him and turned and ran?

He swallowed those nerves, trying to push them aside for another day.

So for now he smiled shakily down the phone, under the blustery DC silken sky.

***

You were forty and recently divorced. You knew on your wedding day it would end this way.

You loved your husband but you would never love him the way you loved Spencer. You managed ten years before you’d called it quits. He’d always known your heart didn’t fully belong to him.

You missed Spencer everyday and it was so unfair how he could still take up so much of your mind. It was a cruel world you supposed. Maybe you just weren’t supposed to be happy.

You’d had your happiness and it had been short lived. But you were thankful for the brief happiness you had been given. It was more than some people got you supposed.

He was thirty eight and home visiting his mother. He didn’t work full time at the BAU anymore since his reinstatement after he was incarcerated and lectured at Georgetown part time. It allowed him more free time to fly out to Vegas to see his mom.

Lecturing at Georgetown brought back so many memories for him. Georgetown was the place he had lost his virginity, the place he’d told you he loved you for the first time. Georgetown held so many pleasant memories for Spencer but they were all bittersweet.

After spending some time grieving Maeve after she died, his mind landed right back on you. It seemed he was always pining over someone. It wasn’t fair.

He was getting coffee on his way back to the hotel he was staying in when a familiar face materialised in front of him.

You weren’t there one moment and then suddenly you were, as though you had just appeared out of thin air.

You held your own coffee cup in your hand, your eyes wide and jaw slack. He watched you swallow a lump in your throat.

“Hi Crash.” you couldn’t help his old nickname tumble out from between your lips.

“Hi Y/N.” his voice croaked, still trying to comprehend how you could so suddenly be here in front of him after all these years of absence.

He felt like that twenty two year old swinging with you side by side in the park counting down the hours until he left you.

He felt like the sixteen year old young man who was falling hopelessly in love with you.

He felt like the eleven year old boy utterly grateful for you untying him from the flagpole.

“It’s been a long time.” you spoke, your mouth dry.

“A really long time.” he agreed with a stiff nod.

“Uhm...do you want to...coffee?” you ignored the fact you both had coffees in your hand.

“O-ok.” he nodded stiffly again.

After all these years you had so much to say to each other but no words would come out.

So for now you walked in silence down the Vegas street, under the cloud coated silken sky.

***

He was thirty nine years old when the explosion occurred. He’d thought it was just a concussion and didn’t pay it much mind.

You were forty one years old when you received the phone call from Penelope Garcia to inform you that Spencer was in the hospital.

They called it intracranial bleeding, his brain was swelling, bleeding; shutting down. They’d told you there was nothing they could do.

How cruel this life had been to you. It had stolen Spencer away from you when your relationship barely had a chance to blossom. It had brought him back into your life, for the two of you to fall back in love with each other only to have one final year together.

It had been the greatest year of your life and you had to try and focus on that as David Rossi read his eulogy.

He spoke all about Spencer’s life, the life you’d barely gotten to be a part of. Hearing it second hand and not from Spencer’s lips was tragic enough in itself.

You didn’t really feel as though you belonged here. You didn’t know him the way his team members knew him. You felt like a stranger in this place now.

You’d jumped at moving to DC when you and Spencer reunited because there was no way you were making the same mistake twice and letting him get away again. But now DC seemed like a suddenly very lonely place.

As the brilliant man you knew and loved was being lowered into the ground, his final resting place, the heavens opened. The rain cascaded down from the sky and you couldn’t help but think how apt it was on this already bleak day.

Garcia came to you at his graveside when the ceremony was over. The rain disguised your tears. She nudged you with her shoulder, her own tears falling.

“The world is going to be a very different place without boy genius in it.” she sobbed as she spoke.

“You’re telling me.” you chewed your lip, your eyes locked on his headstone as you spoke.

“He loved you know? He always loved you.”

You nodded statically not looking at the other woman. You knew he loved you, that much you were sure of. You only wished you had more time.

Maybe if you’d know what life had in store you would have come with him to DC all those years ago. Had you known you didn’t have all the time in the world, that your love only had a finite number of days you might have been more inclined to cling to them.

That was hindsight though you supposed and dwelling on it didn’t change the past. What was done was done. You didn’t go to DC with him, you stayed in Vegas. You spent years pining over him only to have the universe throw you back together again.

And then he’d been snatched from you once more in the most horrific way. And now it was over for good.

“Come on Y/N, you’ll catch a cold if you stay out here.” Garcia placed a gentle arm on your shoulder.

“I’ll be right there.” you told her, still not looking away from where the love of your life was buried beneath the dirt.

You heard her leave as more tears started to fall from your eyes. Your knees gave out and you fell to the grass in the rain.

You sobbed into your hands, cursing life for being so unyielding. But there was nothing you could do about it. The wheels had been set into motion long before you and Spencer had even met. This was always the way things were going to end up. Fate was a cruel mistress.

And so you knelt in the dirt sobbing next to the grave of the love of your life, under the grey, weeping silken sky.

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Tag List -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #cmbingo21 #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you

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milktyama · 3 years

Text

— ☕︎ IF BY CHANCE

a/n: here are the imagines that anon gave me and gave me permission to expand with my own accord!! thank you anon i love this idea (and also added the song to my playlist thank you for that) ALSO longest work ever done!

— heavy reference to if by chance by ruth b.

synopsis: "if by chance... could you forgive me?"

pairing: 3rd year/adult!kageyama tobio x reader

genre: fluff to angst, hurt little comfort, in spain w/o the s

wc: 2.3k

thank you @kohi-zeri @snoozless for beta-ing! <3

❥︎ two swear words, most obvious n smallest manga spoiler

People like to emphasize how high school will be the greatest and the wildest years of your life. And a major part of high school is exploring first loves and small infatuations. High school love is so innocent and light-hearted and sometimes awkward, but that is what makes it so charming.

That is exactly how it felt being with Kageyama Tobio after meeting him in your final year of high school. Shy confessions were exchanged on the daily, pinkies linked as the main source of public affection, anything more flustering both of your young selves.

You always thought that meeting your high school sweetheart in your last year was a sign of bad luck. It was way too late for any deep love to actually develop. It would almost feel forced or fleeting, the connection not having enough time to harvest and bloom.

Though, being with him proved that wrong.

Having him in your life was a blessing from the moment you first encountered him on a rainy spring evening during your way home. You would’ve never expected that that day to become as significant to you back then as it does now.

A small irregularity of Kageyama Tobio forgetting his umbrella when the weather forecast had explicitly predicted a 90% chance of raining during the evening. That night, you thought to yourself that he was counting on the 10% chance that it wouldn’t rain, when in reality it was simply the fact that he did not check the weather forecast daily.

Pft. You would think that being a senior in high school would mean taking up a little more responsibility, but that wasn’t the case with him. His mind still ran on the adrenaline and excitement of volleyball and volleyball alone.

You saw him attempting to take shelter under a cherry blossom tree in the nearby park. The droplets of the rain reflected the sunlight as they landed on the light pink petals of the tree, giving it a warm and peaceful glow.

Kageyama’s hair and clothes were damp from the minimal protection he had against the pouring rain. If you had not approached him that night and offered to share your umbrella, nothing would have happened between the two of you.

You two would have remained as casual classmates, having small insignificant encounters that could be easily looked over: being assigned clean up duty together, collecting tests from people in your row — simple things that no one would ever think twice about. This encounter alone could have easily been part of the list of insignificant encounters… it was just a classmate looking out for another classmate right?

But the warm kindness you showed him on that cold, rainy night had somehow reached Kageyama’s heart. What he at first thought was a mere act of kindness towards a classmate had sprouted into something a little bit more.

After that night, Kageyama found himself looking in your direction more often. His bright blueberry eyes would wander towards your figure who sat a few desks in front of him. You never caught him staring during class, but his presence was more than enough to burn through the back of your head.

It seemed his not-so-subtle glances have rubbed off onto you because you would find your eyes starting to linger on him as well. His tall and lean figure captivated you. His raven hair, his blue eyes, his indifferent voice, and infamous “resting bitch face” were triggers your brain could not miss.

The more the days pass with your attention captivated by this man, the more you realize your feelings towards him. It was a rocky but surprisingly short journey, with both parties who faced difficulties with expressing their feelings to the other, but everything eventually fell into place, leaving it up to fate to bring both of your yearning souls together.

And oh boy did fate put a strong magnetism between the two of you.

You fell in love with Kageyama Tobio through and through. Sure, it was a little awkward at first, with stiff movements and a sprinkle of miscommunication, but after speaking your hearts out, it became clear: you were in love with him just as much as he was in love with you.

At least that is how it seemed.

Even after sharing light kisses under the cherry blossom tree where you met for the first time, your hands held in his rough ones, surrounded by the smell in his clothes that you borrowed from his closet. Or passing small notes to each other during class and sleepless nights when you tried to tutor him in classes he lacked on. Or shouting from the top of your lungs whenever you attended any of his games while sporting his spare jersey.

All these memories seemingly came crashing down a week before your graduation.

Your ears rang after he utters a short phrase that had enough power to crash your world, enough power to make you feel as if everything you’ve done the past year had been a waste, enough power to leave you on your knees, helplessly clutching your chest as the pain starts to spread throughout your body.

“I’m sorry. But… I think I’m in love with someone else.”

He continued to ramble endlessly. Maybe it was more apologies, or maybe he was reasoning what he’d been doing with you this past year. Maybe he was word vomiting in order to make this impact on you less heavy. Whatever it had been, you couldn’t hear it. You lost your grasp of your senses the second those words had reached your ears.

How did you not notice this? How could you not see how his glances towards you became less frequent, how his kisses grew more reluctant, how he wouldn’t reach for your hand first, how his eyes didn’t sparkle for you? You only now realized that he fell out of love. Or maybe he loved someone else all along? Or maybe you were just a game to him? You didn’t even want to consider the latter.

Your sight was blurring with tears that you desperately tried to keep in, but they had already fallen helplessly down your face. You didn’t even notice that Kageyama was no longer in front of you.

When you finally composed yourself, you could see his retreating figure in the distance with someone else at his side. They weren’t hugging or holding hands or kissing or anything of that sort. But watching the person you thought you could love for the rest of your life walk away with someone else was just too much for your poor heart to bear.

It has been exactly 4 years since. You graduated from university and did some intern work during your summers to distract yourself. You truly believed that you have finally picked yourself up and moved one. It was only after seeing him on TV, seeing that he had achieved his dream of going pro, that all the emotions came rushing back.

You still loved him. You always have and never stopped. Your love for him was so great, so powerful, so unconditional that it never left your system, even after being broken in one of the worst ways possible.

Maybe if he had loved you then you would still be by his side, cheering him on.

He reached out to you a few months after your break up. With your wound still fresh, you had truly believed he called to get back together, only to get your hopes crushed. Well, not completely, at least. He called to apologize again, figuring that back in high school you — actually, both of you — had been too emotionally distressed to properly deal with the situation.

It was a very short call, 5 minutes at most. His apology was simple and to the point, but that was how he was. He swore he was sorry for ending things the way they did, and ended the call with a promise. He promised to never hurt you again.

Although his heart may or may not have not been occupied by someone else during your time together, he still found comfort and familiarity when he was with you. Before he could hang up, you too apologized for how you reacted and dealt with the situation, swearing the same promise.

But that promise proved harder to keep than you had thought.

You encountered Kageyama once again, but this time he was with someone else. He seemed happy. It was hard to believe that even after all these years, your heart still beat for Kageyama Tobio. It hurt your heart to see him smile for someone else, knowing those smiles used to be for you. It hurt your heart to know that you were no longer the reason for his smiles being so wide, so genuine.

You wondered if he still recalled the memories the two of you shared. If he still sang along to the song you two spent weeks choosing and claimed as “your song” or if he skipped it. If he still reacted to advertisements that featured your favorite lip balm, the one he loved tasting on your lips whenever you kissed. If he remembered the future plans you talked about, where the two of you would live in a comfortable apartment and how the interior would be decorated; how you would spend nights dancing around the living room.

Either way, you were no longer part of his life. He had found someone else to dedicate his heart to. As if to confirm the dilemma that has plagued you for so long, Kageyama leaned into a kiss to the forehead of his partner, smiling as he pulled away whilst leaning his head onto his partner.

Tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes. You ran, allowing your body to take you wherever it pleased, hot tears falling helplessly from your eyes continuously.

So much for keeping a promise.

Your feet finally stopped, tired, your eyes worn out from crying. You slowly took in your surroundings as you felt the warm breeze of a spring evening, soft petals tickling your sensitive skin. It was quite obvious where your heart belonged.

You found yourself under the tree where you first met him. Where you two would often sit and exchange fleeting kisses or a small treat, feeding each other with fond eyes. The wind blew past you as the petals from the cherry blossom tree slowly fell, surrounding you in a cozy ambiance that left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

As your legs finally gave up at the memory that came rushing into your head, you heard footsteps that sounded like they were approaching your way. A piece of light blue cloth neatly folded entered your line of vision. Your eyes shot up to the tall figure that was now towering over you. His body faced you, however his eyes did not meet yours.

You hesitated before slowly reaching out for the handkerchief in his hand, avoiding his eyes as well.

“I’m sorry…” was all that came out from his lips. There was a moment of silence, disrupted every now and then by a couple of sniffles. Kageyama tried speaking again.

“I’m sorry for hurting you again, even after I promised you I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine…” you managed to choke out, voice slightly cracking. You thought you sounded pathetic. You two broke up four years ago, for fuck’s sake! A lump formed in your throat again, a mix of the remains of old memories and your own consciousness trying to bring some sense into your pained heart.

“If by chance… could you forgive me? For breaking the promise I mean,” Kageyama asked. His words were gentle and soft, maybe a little sweet like honey, attempting to cover up any harshness. It was clear he did not want to hurt you for any longer. His blueberry eyes that you missed so much had a small sparkle to them. You wondered what that sparkle meant.

Was it because he still loved you? Did he miss you the way you missed him? Or maybe he only felt pity for you. Maybe he was hoping for something more. What could he be possibly hopeful for? Your forgiveness? It wasn’t like you were mad at him. Afterall, it was your own fault for falling so deeply in love with him. As painful and bitter as it was, you tried your best to pull your lips upwards.

It was the saddest smile he had ever seen.

Voices in your head screamed at the pain you felt in your heart, but your head reasoned that this was not his fault. You had to let go, once and for all.

“Of course I forgive you.”

The words vibrated through your skull. Your head forgave him, your self-conscious told your heart to forgive him, but in the end, it wouldn’t succumb to logic so easily. You thought with your heart rather than your head, and you absolutely hated it. You broke too easily and gave in to the way your heart beated instead of the words that were trying to break through your thick skull.

The sun sets, warm yellow tones of the fleeting rays of sunlight shone upon the pale pink petals of the cherry blossom tree. The petals turned into a light orange colour as they fell ever so elegantly from the branches above you, surrounding your figure on the ground.

You clutched your knees to your body as you watched his figure stray from you, slowly getting further and further away. Memories from the first time you met under this same tree flooded into your head as a single tear droplet slid down your right cheek.

You felt a lump at the back of your throat. It was an awfully bitter yet mildly sweet feeling. You didn’t mean to be selfish with your feelings towards Kageyama, but if by chance, things didn’t work out with his current partner, then maybe, just maybe, he could be part of your world again.

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loth-wolffe · 3 years

Text

Ocean eyes

Pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi x reader (no y/n).

Warnings: nOne, this is just a mix of a tiny bit of sprinkled angst, a trashy ending, and timeline inconsistency for the sake of this fic

Word count: 1,4k

A/N: it's late and my head hurts but I finally finished editing this. I thought it was going to be quick but apparently it wasn't, hah. hope you like it! send me your thoughts, love to know what you're all thinking!

It's quiet, tranquil, your steps making no sound as you walk through the wide halls of the Temple, just like you have always done since you were a padawan and had trouble sleeping. You'd pass some guards and they would look your way, and it's been years since they stopped spooking you out, sometimes you'd just nod at them, or wave your hand, your thoughts slipping for a moment for your mind to ask if they ever got lonely, or tired, standing ever so motionless outside the doors, guarding, silent and discreet, always searching for potential threats, even if there wasn't much happening inside the Temple, much less at night, but it's always good to be cautious, you remember your master having told you once.

You salute them as you pass, and go to the meditation gardens as usual, you never went to meditate, though, but they did help you to calm down and relax, letting you have a moment to breath without having to worry about the chaos that reigns the galaxy.

The sky is still dark, glinting with the infinite stars from outer space, looking so distant and yet like if you could touch them by lifting your hand. There weren't any lights around but the ones from the distant buildings, the garden looking asleep along with its flowers, their colors being drained by the darkness and waiting for the sun to let them glow again in all their beauty.

Sitting somewhere you could appreciate the view that Coruscant offered you, you let out a tired sigh, taking a deep breath as you lay down.

You feel him before you hear him, his force signature giving him away, the warmth that emanated from him curling with yours as soon as he steps into the room, always finding its way to mix with your own.

"Find yourself another place to meditate, Kenobi, this place's taken."

"I see. Well," he graciously sat beside you and looked his surroundings, "I wasn't aware the meditation gardens were yours."

You grin and close your eyes, feeling him laying down beside you, shoulders an inch away from touching, your heart skipping a beat.

"Can't sleep?" You ask.

"Can't seem to do it properly these days, the war seems to be taking a toll on us all, I suppose. I've never seen master Plo so worried, not since you and I used to do our little escapades to the lower levers." You snort at the memory and shake your head.

"Well, he did lost his entire fleet."

He hums in response.

"I suppose you're right."

There's a silence, and you let the knowledge that he's feeling affected by the war enough to leave him restless sink in your heart. And you don't know if your heart aches more for him or for the fact that master Plo, your master, just lost all of his men.

You wish you could just... end the stupid war. A war that wasn't your job to lead to begin with and that somehow all of you found yourselves so caught up with, sometimes even loosing yourselves in the process, along with the meaning of what being a Jedi truly was.

War was taking a toll on you, too.

"You're being uncharacteristically quiet tonight, is there something on your mind?"

You let another silence settle between you, it's not uncomfortable, but Obi-Wan knows better.

He always did, with you, because he grew to know you like the back of his hand, just like you grew to know him better than he probably knew himself, too.

So he lets you have it, and respond when you feel like responding. He never pushed you to tell him anything, always knowing when to ask and when to not, and when to insist and when to stand down.

A skill of a negotiator, you assume.

"No." You answer and he gives you a look.

"Really now? I think I don't believe you, dove."

You shiver at the pet name, and you hate him because he knows it makes you weak and lower your guard, he knows that is the button he needs to push for you to do whatever he wants you to.

But how can you?

How can you tell him there are so many things on your mind you feel like it'll explode at any second? How tell him he's the only constant thing in your mind?

The last mission you had left you in a constant state of doubting if everything was truly worth fighting for, your heart feeling like it had a missing piece that Obi-Wan could only fill.

You didn't know anymore, if the Jedi code was one you should follow.

"That's just how I am." He snorts at that, and moves closer until your knuckles are touching, but only for a moment, since he goes to sit, looking down at you, making you know he was in a serious mode, you groan, covering your eyes with your forearm. "Don't start."

"Start what? I'm not doing anything."

"You're being annoying." He laughs, a nice, rich sound that warms your insides and make your heart flutter.

Obi-Wan tugs your shirt and you raise your arm just slightly to look at him.

"You're being impossible." He says matter-o-factly and you scoff, covering your eyes once again.

"It's nothing, Obi."

"It is perceived as something if it bothers you, you know." You hold back the urge of rolling your eyes, but you eventually uncover them just to take a look at him.

"Right, thanks, smart guy."

He smiles, eyes falling down to watch his fingers playing with the fabric of his robes, and you suddenly are transported to the times were you where still padawans, when shyness still floated around you sometimes, cheeks burning with awkwardness and embarrassment.

"I'm just stating mere facts."

"Is that what you use against Anakin, too?" He laughs again, and you feel a bubbly feeling in your stomach, knowing the sound come as rare as it gets, mostly now in these hard times.

"You're just being mean, now."

And you beam at him, and he just shakes his head. From your position, you could see his profile just perfectly, from where you were laying, but his eyes were what make you keep looking, the iris shining bright, seeming a shade paler than its usual blue, one that reminds you of your younger days with him dancing to the sound of the rain, his eyes looking like a calm storm that holds back a hurricane of emotions, controlled feelings that had grown with him and shaped him into what he had become.

But now, with the darkness of the night being only brightened by the stars and the artificial lights of the never-sleeping city, his eyes seemed the same shade of blue the ocean carried with it. A serene and peaceful color, just like Obi-Wan, that reminds you of a tranquil place you wished to call home.

You could cry, really, when he looks at you with those eyes.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" He stares right at your soul when he asks, and you're too caught up in the blue that you suddenly feel so surrounded with, that you're not embarrassed that he caught you staring.

But it isn't like it's the first, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time he caught you looking.

He doesn't say anything about it, though, but you can see the beginning of a smirk wanting to break into his face, and an amused glint passing through his eyes.

His ocean eyes.

A shiver bolts down your spine and he gives you a weird look.

"I know."

"So what is it?" When you open your mouth to reply after scoffing at him, he quickly adds, "and don't say it's nothing."

Sometimes you hate how much he knows you, or how he could easily sense what you're going to say or do, and most of those times you wished you could just, punch him in his pretty face and kiss him afterwards.

"Nothing I can't solve," he says your name as a warning and you smile, waving a hand in hopes to rest it importance, "really, fluffkin," he scrunches his nose ever so adorably at the silly name and your fingers itch to trace his jawline all the way up to his nose just so you could smooth the skin there, instead, you push those thoughts away and continue, "don't worry about it."

He hums.

"It's too late, I'm afraid. I'm already worried." You chuckle, and his smile slowly dies, as his eyes search for something in your own, a hand comes to tuck away a string of hair from your face. "I'm always worried about you." He admits, more quietly, as if he was afraid someone might hear you, as if he still thought that by such confession, Qui-Gon would suddenly materialize only to tell him to push away his feelings.

Attachments are forbidden, after all.

But what was the relationship he had made with his master or with his padawan, too, if not attachments? What was the bond he had formed with you, if not an attachment?

His fingers brush some of your hair away from your face and they linger a second longer, and your heart starts beating faster.

It might have been the touch, or maybe the way he was looking at you, as if you had taken yourself the task to hang every star in the sky. The adoration shines within his eyes, a feeling that was fighting its way out of them, breaking the walls he had build so high in an attempt to keep his feelings from spilling.

It was all, you think, that ends up making you do nothing but vomit your next words.

"It's you." With your admission, he crooks an eyebrow, thumb stopping it's slow caresses on your cheek, and you look away, to the sky because it's easier to say it without looking at his face, because it's scary having to see his immediate response, and even more if it shows the rejection that has held you captive for so many years.

His hand goes back to his chest, and you curse yourself for making him back away, but you can't back down, now.

It was too late, indeed.

Because once you push out a feeling, you can't control it afterwards. So you just let it flow, like the water that rolls in the current, all the way down, falling, hard and quickly, and becoming a cascade, beautiful and majestic.

You hope you look like that in his eyes.

Because now you can see your walls crumbling down at your feet, too, and all those things you kept away for both yours and Obi-Wan sakes start to float with you, and you're afraid that you come down with them, and end up crushed and alone in the aftermath of it all. Yet the adrenaline that runs through you, gives you the push you needed to say your next words.

"It's you," you repeat, and the words echos on your mind, vibrations rumbling in your chest and you feel your heart on your throat, a minute away from coming out of your mouth and into his hands. He has always held your heart, you suppose, but tonight you were ready to give it to him willingly. A shaky breath leaves your lips, and you feel a mix of something that could translate to being afraid of rejection and having the hope he might reciprocate. "You are what is on my mind."

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #star wars #prequels #the clone wars #obi wan kenobi

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meeko-mar · 3 years

Text

Here's some pain;

Obviously this is way more fic fodder than an actual prediction of any sort,

What if, when Katsuki starts really going after Izuku do get through to him, and he gets Izuku pinned down...And Izuku still tries to get him to leave him alone.

What if he thinks that it will... drive Katsuki away to confess his feelings?

TW for feelings of internalized homophobia, and I guess perceived notions of homophobia?? Izuku is basically afraid of his feelings, as usual.

As part of the whole idea that he's suppressing, and sort of has internalized homophobia against his crush on Kacchan...So he assumes the logic that if he's afraid of his own feelings, Kacchan would probably be disgusted, enough to give up on him, to leave him. Or at least shatter his concentration enough for Izuku to escape. It will hurt, and it's his last resort, but if he wants Kacchan to keep his distance, he might have to just do it. Because he does love Kacchan and needs to keep him safe. (and he has tried literally everything else to get his classmates off him, to no avail)

So he screams it, right into Katsuki's face, because again, he's been pinned.

"Don't you get it?? I love you!! I always have!" He cries. "That's why I can't be near you!! My feelings are only going to get you killed!!" (he has related this to the rest of the class already, but this instance is specially for Katsuki, insert a mess of Izuku's emotions about Kacchan nearly dying for him once already)

But instead of disgust, and letting him go, Katsuki keeps a hold of him, and his eyes change. At first he is a bit blindsided, but quickly resumes his resolve.

"You...Asshole!!" Katsuki growls, also in Izuku's face. "So what, You want ME to have to Watch YOU fucking die instead cause you won't let anyone fucking help you?! Is that better? That's somehow ok?!"

"You fucking love me?? Bullshit!" (stay with me here)

"If you love me so fucking much, why don't you fucking act like it!! Why don't you think about how I feel watching you drive yourself into an early fucking grave like everyone who came before you!?"

His fists clench tighter around Izuku's tattered costume as tears start streaming down his own cheeks in the rain.

"What about how I feel about you, huh!? You think you're too good to wanna stick around long enough to find out??"

Izuku is obviously SHOOK(his ploy didn't work?? Kacchan isn't rejecting him?? Or is he?? What is happening here, he did not account for this response...)

Eventually they manage to wrangle him up. Take him home.

Katsuki hovers as he heals, making sure he doesn't bolt again. He seems to be looking at him with brand new eyes, though Izuku knows he's being considered a flight risk and thinks that might be the soul reason... but also there seems to be another new context to the look of those red eyes.

They have conversations, calmer, but they still skirt around *those feelings*, pretty awkwardly. The whole class can tell what's going on, too(I imagine that they at least heard the tail end of when Katsuki was yelling at Izuku about it)

Anyway, Izuku reluctantly...very reluctantly, agrees to work with UA and his friends. With many, many discussions that pretty much amount to Intervention and THERAPY talks with all involved(and after a lot of rest to get into a better mindset), he realizes how terribly they were worried about him, and are still worried. And eventually, that it's not fair to shut them all out when they are trained as much as he is and deciding for themselves to be involved.

He still doesn't like it, he is still terrified...He still believes/knows he's got to keep searching for AFO...but now accepts that his friends are going to try to help no matter what he says and accepts their help, accepts Katsuki's help. AM comes back and they make up, and AM ALSO tells him to make sure he's ok before taking care of everyone else again.

As Izuku slowly adapts to having a home base and becomes less of a flight-risk, Katsuki's still always lingering in the background, or acting by his side, like his right-hand man. I think once more paralleling the Second watching over Yoichi.

Izuku honestly can't tell what Katsuki actually thinks about the whole love confession, and he's actually afraid to ask and open that pandora's box again. So for a while he acts like it didn't happen. It all feels surreal and like it could have all been a panic-induced fever dream for all he knows.

But, unbeknownst to Izuku, the reason Katsuki isn't really saying anything is because he's actually kind of assessing his own feelings. He knows he cares deeply about Izuku... but is it love, is it THAT kind of love? Can he properly even return those feelings, does he deserve to?? And then again, he's ALSO questioning if Izuku was genuine about his love confession or if it was some sort of fake out to get him to leave him alone or shock him. And if it was, he'd feel really stupid and pretty hurt if he came to confess only to be rejected by Izuku. (which, might happen anyway, because Izuku's still terrified that his love is going to get Katsuki killed)

Anyway, he's read Izuku horribly wrong in the past before, so he wants to really make sure he's reading the signals right.

The kids in their class, while obviously occupied with patrols, the ongoing tension of AFO lurking out there, communicating with the Heroes and the International reinforcements, etc etc, are absolutely AGGRAVATED by these two dancing around the issue, and for not giving all of the tea-seeking kids of their group closure after that dramatic day where they had fought Izuku and the two of them had SCREAMED at each other about feelings. (again)

Like even Ochako tries to (gently) get the truth out of Izuku cause she knows how crazy it can be to have a crush when you're preoccupied with saving the world.

Maybe one night Katsuki and Izuku are out, I'm thinking high up where they can see UA grounds...Maybe the roof of the building? Perhaps doing a look-out patrol.

And they start TALKING.

Katsuki straight up starts the conversation because he knows, and we all know, that Izuku would be tight-lipped about it still. He just straight up says "So are you ever going to tell me what the hell you meant that day?"

Izuku FREEZES, but he decides he's probably avoided this for long enough...can't put it off forever.

Katsuki looks at Izuku and finds him looking so, so insecure, confused, and grimacing with a blush as he looked away.

"Oi, Deku." He startles Izuku, "Were you....Were you lying to me?"

Izuku looks so bewildered by Katsuki's new tone. There's a hint of insecurity in his voice

"Sorry--I'm sorry... I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have said it like that," Izuku fumbles with the words. "I used those words to try to push you away...I thought you'd hate me, and if I could get you to hate me, you'd let me go, and I was so scared, and it was a really really desperate strategy..." he's doing his trademark muttering by now as panic sets in.

Katsuki steps closer, eyes burning with intensity as he looms over him. "But was it a lie."

"It was the wrong moment, for the wrong reason...But..." Izuku sucks in breath and feels his heart hammering. Forces himself to meet his eyes with Katsuki's. "It wasn't a lie."

Katsuki's eyes widen, and they both kind of stall in the moment as it all settles in and the wind blows between them.

"I'm sorry," Izuku blurts, and blushes furiously, starting to turn away. "I shouldn't have pushed this on you," He's giving in to his instinct to bolt.

Katsuki catches him by the wrist. Izuku turns, and meets Katsuki's smoldering eyes again. "Don't you go running off without hearing what I think again, damn nerd. Last time it nearly got you killed."

He runs a hand through is hair and looks away, and by now is also blushing. "Dammit. I'm still trying to figure out how to be around you. I'm still trying to relearn how to be your friend...At least, a friend who's actually worth a shit."

Izuku nods quietly, they've also had their discussion on their past/Katsuki's apologies by now, so Izuku is understanding of where Katsuki's feelings are coming from.

"And...Deku, you dumbass, why would I hate you for that??" Katsuki glares. Izuku flinches a bit.

"Well I..." Izuku mumbles. "It's obvious, right? I thought you'd be grossed out... I'm not a...Neither one of us is..."

"Not what, a girl!?" Katsuki scoffs. "Since when does that fucking matter?? You don't decide what the Hell grosses me out, Deku. " Izuku looks at him, SHOCKED, but his eyes shining.

The hand that has him by the wrist squeezes just gently, and feels really warm.

Katsuki sighs, and looks downward. "As long as you're not lying to me about something like that. Don't ever fucking lie about this kinda shit."

He finally looks at Izuku again, eyes large and shining. His hand pulls Izuku forward just gently.

"I don't know...Fuck...Give me time...Okay? There's still a lot I gotta do before I can..." He cuts off, still blushing and wrestling with the emotions. but the remaining words 'before I can say it back' basically hang, unsaid, in the air between them.

"But you gotta promise me you won't go and get your stupid ass killed before I get the chance, got it, nerd?!" Katsuki adds hastily.

Izuku feels his eyes start to burn as the warmth wells up inside him, and a smile spreads across his glowing face. He laughs a bit, feeling the nerves bubbling over, paired with a sudden sort of relief. Kacchan doesn't hate him for what he said, and even might return the feeling. What a good feeling. The best thing in a while. If not all the more terrifying.

"Okay, Kacchan" Katsuki blushes at how stupidly cute it looks for the light to be returning to Izuku's eyes, and that dumb smile lighting up freckled cheeks...Something that the Katsuki of a few weeks ago would have given anything in the world to see, right there in front of him.

Feeling the urge to bring back their previous mood, Katsuki grunts some sort of quasi-insult, like, "Don't get any more weird, backwards ideas like that, Deku. I'll kick your ass."

Izuku laughs again, But then suddenly, everything is ruined; A massive jolt to his head strikes him and he suddenly withdraws his hands from Katsuki, clutching his head and doubling over.

Danger Sense.

"Deku! Hey!" Katsuki grips him by the shoulders(partially in panic that Izuku might fly off by instinct without second thought to a plan of any sort, like old habits) "What is it!?"

Katsuki's legitimately scared as Izuku sinks to his knees; Izuku's had Danger Sense pings while staying within the walls of UA to heal before(that they had to CONVINCE him not to pay attention to, or rather send one of the other students out in his stead), but nothing this obviously severe.

Little Brother, The voice rings in Izuku's head again, and his blood runs cold.

Gritting his teeth, Izuku's eyes then shoot open, and look with terror to the horizon;

"It's him...He's coming..."

---

sorry this was long. probably imperfect.

but I had to get it out of my head.

And then somewhere in or in the aftermath of the final battle they actually share a kiss and Katsuki says it back. It's nice.

I really think, Katsuki would probably legit have few hang-ups about being gay, his attitude is "don't fake who you are or how you feel", Mr. "can't even fake it to survive a kidnapping encounter with villains and would rather try to explode them all even though he's outnumbered". He'd be like, "what, you like boys? fine, then, what's the problem?! Like boys all you want!"

In this scenario I think he's way more concerned over if he's a worthy partner for Izuku, or if he's able to reciprocate, rather than "am I actually gay and if so what does that mean"

And as of 320, let me just say that Izuku is SO FRIGGIN SCARED, it breaks my heart. Like he's legit terrified and I think our suspicions that he was deeply deeply traumatized by the war arc are exactly on the money. the line "AFO is going to take you all away from me" while flashing back to the losses in the war including Kacchan....JUST SHOOT ME, IT MIGHT BE LESS PAINFUL.

Can't wait for the main UA kids(IE, his closer friend circles) to have their turn trying to wrangle Izuku up.

Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you liked this.

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pinnithin-writes · 3 years

Text

more of a feeling

Mission to Zyxx fic, mild spoilers for season 5 if you're not caught up. This started as rambling about our bodies sabotaging us and turned into a conversation about our bodies taking care of us. 2117 words.

It was simple, really. It all came down to chemistry.

C-53 knew how emotions worked, of course; he’d even go so far as to call himself a veteran by now. Every frame he’d inhabited was a different experience, but the emotions he felt in those frames were a reassuring constant. He knew the programming for joy. He could trace the source code for anger. His cube felt it all the same, and no matter how many diagnostics he had to run in an unfamiliar body, his thoughts, his feelings, and his personality grounded him through the flux.

Until, that is, the failed clone of a scientist shoved him in a meat suit without his consent.

Emotions were different when he was piloting flesh. They governed his body more than he was used to. They still generated from C-53’s cube, but now that cube was hooked up to nerves and synapses, blood and organs, and those living, breathing parts responded accordingly. He was a miracle of a machine, truly – a code given life – but he couldn’t wax poetic about something like that when his pores leaked and his muscles tired and his stomach twisted in knots.

It was hard enough dealing with a body that resisted his will at every turn. It was worse still that every fleeting feeling affected him on the molecular level. He didn’t know how organics got anything done like this. Frustration made his head pound and his guts churn. Despair burned his eyes and locked his throat. Even pleasant feelings – affection, mirth – stole his breath, made his pulse race. It was distracting at best and debilitating at worst. Surely there was a way to bypass these effects.

Unable to connect his consciousness to high speed internet, he had to go about this the old fashioned way, which made it a slow process indeed. Thankfully, the USS Synergy owned a vast library, which he took advantage of to scan every file they had on hermanns, discovering himself.

He did most of his research at night. He told himself this was because he was less likely to be interrupted, but in truth he was embarrassed at his own inefficiency. Even in the old loader frame, downloading the data would have taken all of ten seconds. And though he knew his crewmates wouldn’t humiliate him, he still didn’t want to be seen like this. Having to move his eyes across a screen, absorb and process the words they scanned, and then file that information away in his slippery maze of a brain, line after line after line after line after line.

The hours of learning made him feel childish. C-53 was tired.

But he was getting somewhere. When exhaustion pulled at his eyelids and his thoughts went fuzzy in the late, still hours on Bargie, he knew it was adenosine flooding his neural pathways and inhibiting his functionality. No code existed to override adenosine. Caffeine, however, could counteract it for a short time (with the unfortunate side effect of upsetting his stomach and tasting like tar).

C-53 pored over chemistry texts and neuroscience studies, learning what made hermanns - and thus, hermanoids - do what they did. There were no comparable texts on tellurians in this galaxy, but the science, from what he could remember, was quite similar. It was all chemicals, and those chemicals told his brain to tell his body how to act.

It was exceptionally overcomplicated. There was always some other influencing factor to his body, a sensory input or a thought or even his DNA - Jeremy’s genetic memory - that scrambled a system that could theoretically be very streamlined.

An example: he could eat something that tasted good (peanut butter and chocolate), triggering a flood of dopamine that caused him to feel happy. But Jeremy was allergic to tree nuts, so his immune system attacks him for a perceived threat that doesn’t exist, so forcefully that he could die from it. It was as fascinating as it was annoying. Who knew organics could have glitches? Too bad he hadn’t figured out how to debug anaphylactic shock.

He didn’t know what he hoped to accomplish by doing all this research. In a way, studying why his body actively sabotaged him was a comfort, but the more he learned, the more faults he discovered. Evolution was a temperamental thing. He much preferred the elegance of engineering.

At present, it was a dark hour on Bargie, docked and slumbering with her crew on the Synergy. Half awake in the conversation pit, amidst a tangle of textbooks and portable screens, C-53 sat alone under the red glow of the security lights. Sprawled as he was, C-53 didn’t immediately notice Pleck wandering into the room until he said his name.

Blurry lines of text sharpened as he startled, then relaxed. “Hm? Oh, hey Pleck,” he said.

“C-53, it’s like, three in the morning,” Pleck responded. Bare footsteps signaled his approach, and then he dropped onto the couch next to C-53, a glass of water in one hand and an orange fruit in the other. He reached over and set the glass precariously on the cushion between them. “Y’know, tellurians usually sleep around this time,” he pointed out helpfully. “What are you doing out here?”

The info tablet C-53 held was inches away from his face. “I’m learning about my pineal gland,” he announced dully.

A hormone regulator located near the brain stem. Releases melatonin and influences one’s circadian rhythm. Well, it wasn’t doing a very good job right now, was it?

“Cool, is that something like - do tellurians have that too or just, y’know,” Pleck drew his feet up to sit cross-legged, “whatever you are?”

C-53 couldn’t help but smirk mirthlessly at that. “It’s found in most vertebrates, so yes, I would imagine both you and whatever I am have one.” He set the tablet aside to look at Pleck, but the screen made him night blind, and he could only see the afterimage of a splotchy red rectangle in the darkness. “Why are you awake?”

“Oh, I woke up thirsty,” Pleck explained easily. He fiddled with the peel on his fruit as he spoke. “And then I thought, well, while I’m up I might as well grab a snack, and then I saw you sitting there so,” he shrugged, “here I am.”

It was a better explanation than what C-53 had. And it was a far better explanation than Pleck would have given several months ago, when the Allwheat was still worming into his brain and keeping him up at odd hours. C-53 was thankful those days were behind them. As the afterimage of the tablet faded and Pleck became a collection of grays and blues beside him, he quietly mourned the loss of his night vision. And his regular vision.

“You ever had one of these, C-53?” Pleck asked. He finally got his fingernails under the skin and began peeling. “The Themm grow these instead of oranges. They’re kind of sour?”

“I haven’t,” C-53 answered. He hadn’t eaten an orange before, for that matter, but he wasn’t too interested in expanding his food horizons. Most things had an unpleasant texture to him.

“Do you want some?” Pleck went on, adding pieces of rind to the small pile in his lap. He slanted C-53 a glance. “Oranges are the most shareable fruit.”

“No, thank you.”

Pleck shrugged again before separating a slice of not-orange and popping it in his mouth. As he chewed in silence, C-53 picked up the glass between them and placed it safely on the coffee table. Piles of nearby notes were scrawled in his own clumsy hand, amateur diagrams and chemical formulas with lots of arrows and exclamation marks littering the margins. Writing it down helped the nonstick pan of his brain gain some traction, he found, but the coffee table was starting to look like Nermut’s conspiracy wall after so many hours of research.

His neck ached. His head pounded out a protest.

He’d been pushing his brain and body to its limits and had what to show for it? A newfound disgust with himself? A frustration he only knew more intimately? C-53 frowned and used one of his papers as a coaster.

Beside him, Pleck happily ate his fruit, unbothered. Being organic was easy for him; he was a native to his body and didn’t know anything else. C-53 pitied and envied him in equal measure.

“You’re going to bed soon, right C-53?” Pleck asked after making his way through half the orange. He reached to retrieve his glass from the table, but condensation stuck a note about the amygdala to the bottom. “Oh,” he remarked.

C-53 peeled it off for him. “I don’t like sleeping,” he explained, crumpling the note and tossing it on the table. “So I’m reading.”

Pleck took a sip of water and frowned. “You gotta sleep sometime.”

“I know,” he answered shortly. He’d read dozens of articles about the side effects of sleeplessness. Fatigue, irritability, memory issues, hallucinations if you waited long enough. He knew he’d crash eventually, he just wasn’t especially motivated to avoid it. “It feels bad,” he went on. “Waking up is disorienting.”

There was a thoughtful crease between Pleck’s brows; C-53 could barely see it under the security lights. Pleck took a moment to set his glass back down on the table before turning the remainder of the fruit over in his hands. “Is it because you don’t feel safe?” he asked without looking up.

“I’m… sorry?”

“It’s just - y’know, when I was having trouble sleeping-”

“Pleck, I’m not a lunatic,” C-53 interrupted. “I know I’m perfectly safe on Bargie. I just don’t like sleeping. I don’t need you to teach me how to be tellurian, okay?” He gestured at the pathetic mess of research before him, scrawled in an obvious lunatic’s hand. “I’m figuring it out.”

Pleck fed himself a section of orange and didn’t answer right away. On C-53’s other side, the info tablet’s screen auto timed out and went dark. They were bathed in red completely now, one of them frustrated and exhausted, the other watchful and concerned. C-53 removed his glasses and rubbed at his stinging eyes.

“Sorry,” he said after a time. “I’m just…”

“Tired?” Pleck offered.

C-53’s sigh went through his whole body. “Yes.”

A stubborn, senseless part of him didn’t want to overcome this. He didn’t want to be an example of perseverance, some epic struggle conquered by learning to live well. He wanted to kick and bite and throw a fit over this new frame. It wasn’t fair.

“C-53,” Pleck broke quietly into his thoughts. “You don’t have to, y’know, have the answer to everything all the time. Sometimes you have to just… do what your body is telling you to do, even if you don’t want to.” He offered an orange slice in C-53’s direction. “It’s trying to take care of you.”

“You say that like this flesh suit has a soul,” C-53 grumbled, but he took the fruit anyway, staring glumly as it lay in his stupid, sweaty palm.

“Well, sure it does.” Pleck smiled and prodded his shoulder with an index finger. “It’s you.”

C-53 fell silent. It was strange, learning things from Pleck. He was used to the roles being reversed, and it shifted something uncomfortably inside him every time it happened. Dutifully, he put the orange in his mouth, felt the tart flavor burst on his tongue, and chewed past the slimy sensation until he was able to swallow it. He was unable to hide a shudder.

Pleck watched him with one hopeful eye. “Not your favorite?” he guessed.

“It’s the texture,” C-53 explained, grimacing. But he held his hand out for another slice in spite of it.

Pleck grinned. “We can find something you like to eat instead of this,” he said, scooping the orange peels out of his lap and leaving them on the coffee table for later cleanup. “It doesn’t have to all be bad. Come on,” he rose from his seat and offered C-53 his hand. “Let’s check the kitchen for something better and then, y’know, maybe try and get some sleep?”

The please was unspoken, but C-53 could see it on Pleck’s freckled face. He was trying to take care of him, just like his clunky, unfamiliar body was. C-53 didn’t like his body very much, and wasn’t sure he ever would, but he liked Pleck enough to go along with him for now. He didn’t know what kind of chemical governed trust. He didn’t even let himself ask.

C-53 took Pleck’s hand, tried not to flinch from the zing it sent up his arm, and followed him out of the pit.

#mission to zyxx #mtz #pleck decksetter #c-53 #AI in a meat suit having an understandable problem with being Flesh #do you know how fuckin hard it was to walk this Jeremy line without letting it be rpf on accident #hhhhanyway #pleck/53 #(very minor)

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

catch in the dark

Word Count: 1,879

Warnings: angsty feels, unrequited love, an ending that might hurt you a bit, mentions of characters drinking alcohol - all assumed to be of legal age!

Pairing: Sugawara Koushi x Fem!Reader

A/N: as usual because they’re amazing, thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells and @thisnoodlewritesao3 for reading this for me before and letting me know your thoughts! I appreciate you both so very much <3 Also, I’m sorry for the sad feels guy haha that’s just how we’re feeling today. Inspired by: Catch in the Dark by Passenger

Haikyuu Masterlist

Your name flashed on Sugawara’s phone screen and he immediately gave a small smile. He wished he could hear from you more often, but that smile slowly turned sad, because he knew that you only called him when you were broken.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly after hearing your small “Hi” from the other end.

There was a pause but you just sighed and your voice weakly got out, “I know you’ve got work soon. But can you leave your front door open again?”

He told you okay, because it was okay. This had happened a few times before and he always wanted to be there for you. But he hated that this was the only time he would see you. When your heart was at its lowest, your eyes fragile, dull, no more sparkle that he used to see.

Suga closed his front door, leaving it unlocked just as you asked. And as he walked his way to work, he wondered if he really was as dumb as everyone thought. Everyone always told him that his love for you was toxic, that it wasn’t a good friendship to only be called when you needed him to console you. But wasn’t that what friends were for?

It was his fault for falling for you anyways. For letting you run away with his heart and disappear with it, only to get your own broken and return to him.

By the time he got home, you were on his couch, curled up in some old pjs you kept at his place and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your eyes focused on the old reruns playing on the TV, barely even noticing him come in.

“Are you alright?” He asked, the words feeling like a mantra - something that was always repeated when he saw you.

“I wish I knew what it was like to be hopeful,” you told him softly and Suga could tell that you’d been crying. Your voice crackled with tears and heartbreak and he wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms. “I’ve always been hopeless at hoping... always really bad at coping with this kind of stuff.”

Suga never knew if his words made a difference, but he pulled out some ice cream from his freezer and climbed into the couch with you, holding your hand and gently rubbing your back as you cried over and over again.

“Maybe I’m just not worth being loved,” you joked after you had finally shed your last few tears for the day. Your laugh sounded so genuine, it made Suga’s eyebrows furrow. You were laughing as if you were really joking. How was he going to tell you that you were worth ten times the love that you’ve chased? That you were the sole holder of his heart and that he would give his life just to see you smile for the rest of your days.

“Why don’t you just confess to her already?” Asahi had asked earlier today when Suga told the guys that you were back at his place.

Suga smiled sadly, looking down at the work in his hands, “She’s never wanted me. It’s always someone else.” He thought for a moment and glanced out the window as he realized how difficult it was to love you. Loving you was like playing catch in the dark, unsure of where you were and unsure if you knew he had thrown something at you. Unsure if you would ever return or if you ever would throw something back. Suga had known since the first moment he had met you that he wasn’t even in the realm of your love life. He was a tear drop in an ocean of flames.

It was Wednesday but Suga knew that it didn’t matter. He pulled out the alcohol and poured you a drink, watching you greedily swallow it down, as if the burn in your throat would make you forget the burn in your heart.

“Men suck,” you mumbled quietly after a few shots, burying your head into your arms. Your watched the liquor in the bottle swirl around as you poured yourself another shot, sighing softly.

“I know,” Suga told you gently, brushing your hair from your face so he could see your eyes. He loved your eyes. He loved how you seemed to carry the whole universe in them, how looking in them was like an adventure.

“Why don’t they ever stay? Why do men always leave?” You seethed in anger, gripping your glass just a bit too tightly. “It’s always the man that leaves.”

Suga’s words were like a broken record, words you had known far too well because it was everything that your other friends said too, “You’re perfect, Y/N. Men come and go but don’t you blame yourself. They’re just trash,” he told you softly. But maybe you would never know just how much he meant it. You were perfect to Sugawara Koushi.

You just shook your head in response, huffing, “So perfect I haven’t had a stable relationship since high school. I’m so tired of putting my heart out here and getting no where,” you grumbled, banging your head against the table with a pout. Suga winced as you hurt yourself, pulling you up from the hard surface and checking your face for any redness.

“Just got to wait for the right man,” he told you softly, holding your face in his hands and just watching your eyes. How a guy could turn you away he would never understand. He didn’t get why the men you always met up with turned out to be assholes, why you always seemed to be attracted to red flags and toxic behaviours.

“I don’t even think a right man exists,” you murmured, eyes fluttering shut as the alcohol slowly started to take its sleeping potion effect on you.

Suga gave a small smile and laughed out gently, “Probably not,” as if he wasn’t wishing he was your right man. He helped you out of the chair you were practically slipping out of, letting you lean on him while he helped you to his room.

Suga’s apartment was small and only had one bedroom, so every time you came with another broken heart, wanting to be consoled and wishing you could forget whoever you just spent your emotions on, Suga would give you his bed, tuck you into his covers, and take the floor.

Today was no different. He tucked you in, noticing how late it was getting. You were both probably going to be hungover tomorrow and he considered calling in sick for work tomorrow. He pulled his spare pillow and blanket onto the ground with him, sighing as he stared up at the ceiling.

“You’re going to have to tell her eventually,” Daichi had told him, tired of watching one of his best friends take a back seat in his romance life because of someone who only used his heart for comfort.

“If I do, I might lose her,” Suga insisted quietly. “I’d rather stay here in the darkness, waiting for the fact that she might, than lose her forever.”

He was being pathetic, Suga knew this. He shook his head clear of his drunk thoughts, wondering what would happen if he confessed to you now and blamed it on the alcohol. Then he could see how you would take it. Would you be happy? Could you have been waiting for it? Or maybe you’d ignore him from now on, avoid talking to him... your friendship was everything to him, even if he was your designated breakup friend. Even if it was only sometimes, Suga liked having you around. And he didn’t want to give that up for a maybe she likes me back.

“Suga?” You whispered, his eyes shooting over to your direction in surprise. He had thought you had fallen asleep already.

“What is it, darling?” He asked gently, shifting on his side so he could face you.

You gave him a tipsy smile, eyes closed and a slur in your words, “If we’re both single by the time we’re 40, let’s just get married okay?”

Suga’s heart hurt a little hearing those words, “Sure, love,” he told you, even linking pinkies with you when you begged for a pinky promise. He watched how happy you seemed with his promise, flopping back into his bed and mumbling something else about how men sucked. He did, Suga knew they did. But he wished he could show you that sometimes, there were a few guys out there that didn’t suck all that much.

Your promise stuck in his head all night while he tossed and turned. It didn’t matter that it was some drunk promise, Suga finally convinced himself. Because you would never want him anyways. He was used to taking a back seat, being a last resort. He was okay with it, really, he told himself as he squeezed his eyes shut to try and keep any tears at bay. He just wanted you to be happy, even if that didn’t include him.

But what if...

What if he told you he loved you? What if you gave him a teary eyed laugh and shoved his shoulder back, scoffing. What if you’d say, “Took you long enough, idiot.”

What if he kissed you, tasted what that chapstick of yours tasted like? What if he held you in his arms and promised to try and mend the broken pieces that others had left behind? What if he was the reason behind your smile, what if he got to wake up to seeing your sparkling eyes every morning, what if he got to see that face you made when you were really concentrated or when you were talking about all the things you were passionate about?

And what if you loved him back? What if you had been waiting for him to confess this whole time? What if there was a fairy tale ending to this story?

What if there was a future for you two?

All of the what if’s remained in Suga’s head from the time he closed his eyes to sleep to the time he woke up. Maybe... just maybe... it was worth to tell you because what if you two could be happy together?

Suga’s eyes blinked opened slowly as he made up his mind. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, that it had always been you and that he wouldn’t leave you like every other guy had.

He glanced at the alarm clock glowing in his room, the one that read 5:15AM. It was now or never. He wanted to tell you.

Suga shifted to sit up, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand and trying to make sure his face was presentable. He was ready. If you two could be happy, it would be worth it right? He turned and reached for your arm in the bed, wanting to feel your warm skin under his fingertips.

Only for his fingers to find empty sheets instead.

“It’s always the man that leaves”, you had said. But this time, you had left him without any warning.

And just as fast as he got his hopes up, they fell.

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#sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x y/n #sugawara x you #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #hq sugawara #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq angst #pieswrites #sugawara angst #sugawara

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