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wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Redbull

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, a complete crack fic.

Song to Set the Vibe: Break Shit ~ Jasiah

Request: Reader gets extra homework from Snape and drinks redbull to finish it, she then freaks out becaue of overintake of caffeine

A/n: this is a crack fic plain and simple, kinda fun to write, I used it as an excuse to bash Snape and Pansy. It's not edited so ignore spelling and grammar(Ps I'm in love with Shigaraki Tomura so if anyone can help me that would be great)

You rolled your eyes aimlessly flipping through your potions textbook in hopes to find something worth your time inside of it. You found nothing but continued to scan the pages, thoughts wandering to random topics. You groaned wondering if you could catch Harry’s attention from across the room. You cursed Snape for separating you, now you were stuck next to Pansy Perkins, someone you would sooner pitch from the autonomy tower than have a civilized conversation with, although you doubted she was able to have such things. You let out another loud sigh as your stares into your boyfriend’s head gave you no reaction.

Pansy turned, glaring. You stuck your tongue out at her and she scoffed turning away.

“You’re disgustingly childish.” she spat inching her seat away from you.

“At least I’m not in love with a boy who finds me annoying and borderline repulsive.” You shot back.

She scowled back at you, “Shut your filthy mouth, you know nothing about me.”

“I know you’re an uppity bitch.” You shrugged back grinning.

She let out a high pitched shriek as you struggled to keep in giggles. Eyes snapped toward your table and you looked towards your desk-mate pretending to be shocked by her outburst.

“Ms. Perkinson, is everything alright?” Snape was clearly uninterested in her answer.

For a second you were sure she would snitch on you but she decided to keep her dignity intact and shook her head.

You snickered, waving to Harry who rolled his eyes playfully, a small grin on his face.

As Snape went back to his lesson you smirked at the red-faced girl, “Wow Perkionson you truly decided to keep your pride on that one didn’t you?”

She responded with nothing no longer playing along.

“That’s something I would have done, you know us prideful Gryffindors. I suppose you were placed in the wrong house.” You continued to bait the girl.

She scoffed again, “I was put in the right house, thank you very much.”

“Oh sure, you were.” You bit your lip in thought before an idea revealed itself. “Oh my Godric, Draco is totally staring at you.” You gasped in mock surprise.

She snapped to attention spinning around to look where the blonde was seated only to find him asleep at his desk. You laughed quietly as she spun around to glare at you again.

“I’m only kidding of course,” You chuckled, “I’m sure he would rather stare at a troll’s ass than you, I know I sure would.”

Her cheeks blossomed with red anger, her eyes narrowing to slits as you held back barking laughter. “Shut up.” Her voice was shaky with fury.

“Ooo, looks like I’ve struck a nerve.” You jeered happily. “ ‘fried Darcy is never gonna love your little pug face?”

Apparently you took it too far because the girl leapt to her feet swinging her wand at you, “Flipendo!”

You flipped straight off your chair and was flung into the desk next to you, a splintering pain shooting through your back. You didn’t let it show laughing as you stood “What?! Can’t take the truth pug-face?” You snatched your wand from your robes, “Tentaclifors!”

Pansy’s head was replaced by a large grey tentacle in seconds, “At least now you’ll look better!” You barked in a wide grin. Laughter and shouts echoed around you but your joy was cut in one swift flash.

“Y/l/n!”

You turned to see your professor, his anger quite evident amongst his dull features.

“Ms. Greengrass, please escort Ms. Perkinson to the hospital wing.” He snarled as you bit back a giggle.

“Since you seem to find dueling with a classmate while I’m teaching so amusing, y/l/n, I expect six pages on the essay due tonight instead of two.” He snapped.

“But she fired first!” You defended.

“I simply do not care.” He responded, “I want six pages.”

You glared at the man mumbling some unpleasant words under your breath before taking your seat again. At least you only had ten minutes of class left.

Saying you liked to procrastinate would be an understatement. You were wildly in love with procrastination. You were an absolute expert at finding anything but your work to do. You shoved the essays and worksheets to the back of your mind and instead helped the twins with a prank or read a new book. You could close off the bad thoughts of school work like a pro, even Hermionie’s nagging couldn’t get you to work until the sunlight had faded and the stars were visible in the sky.

You had once again followed through on your usual routine and now at ten at night you were finally beginning to start your hours of work.

You groaned, “How can our professors be so cruel? This is a wildly unfair amount of work.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Maybe if you had gotten started on it right away then you wouldn’t be so stressed right now.”

“Whatever.” You mumbled.

Harry who sat beside you, his head on your shoulder, arm around your waist peered at the textbooks you had placed in front of you. “Don’t you have that essay from Snape too?”

You whimpered, the sound of a wounded animal, “I totally forgot about that.” You buried your head into the dark-haired boy’s chest, “I’m so fucked.”

He chuckled earning a glare from you as you pouted up at him, “Sorry,” he murmured, “You’re just so cute.”

Ron groaned, “Can you not do that in front of me?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Don’t be jealous Ron, green is not a good color on you.”

“I am not jealous.” He scoffed.

“Whatever,” you whined, “Someone help me. I’m gonna pass out in like an hour.”

“That’s your own fault.” Hermione pointed out, you ignored her picking up your transfiguration notes and beginning to scribble down answers.

Three hours later you were completely exhausted. Both Hermione and Ron had retired to their beds. Harry was beside you struggling to stay awake as he poured over your Defense Against the Dark Arts paragraph. Your eyelids felt too heavy and your mind was fogged over, memories smeared in the mud of fatigue. You were at your breaking point.

“I haven’t even started that stupid essay.” You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears. You hiccuped choking back sobs, “I can’t do this.”

Harry sat up rubbing his eyes and stumbling towards you. He sat next to you holding open his arms as you buried yourself into his embrace. You let yourself go, tears spilling down your cheeks onto the boy’s shoulder.

“Y/n/n.” He whispered causing you to look up at him. He cupped your head in his hands using his thumbs to wipe your tears, their cold temperature feeling refreshing against your hot sticky skin. “You’re gonna be okay, I’m gonna get you an energy drink and you're going to be just fine. I swear.”

“Energy drink?” You tilted your head in confusion.

He nodded, “I’ve got a whole bunch of them up in my room so I can stay up.”

“Okay.” You mumbled leaning into his touch which was so cruelly torn away from you.

“I’ll be right back.”

Harry stumbled back down the stairs with a brightly colored box a few minutes later. You investigated one of the cans he had given you and frowned.

“Redbull?”

He nodded, “Yeah muggles drink the stuff all the time, it's like super-powered coffee.” You shrugged, cracking open the can to a small fizz, “Careful it tastes like shit.”

You took a large swig anyway cringing at the taste but ignoring it.

You heard the hiss of carbonation and glanced over at Harry who was about to take a sip of the liquid. “Harry, go to bed, I’ll finish this myself.”

He glanced hazily at you, “Are you sure?”

You nodded, taking the drink from him, “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” He spoke hesitantly standing, “Love you y/n/n.” He placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Love you too.” You responded “Goodnight.”

He disappeared upstairs and you took another sip.

Harry awoke the next morning and clambered down the dormitory steps to find you pacing and what seemed to be mumbling to yourself. He scrunched his brow and continued across the room looking down when he heard a loud clang and felt something bounce off his shoe. It turned out to be a can that was sent rolling across the carpeted room knocking into three others on the way.

You had now noticed the boy’s arrival and turned to greet him, “Harry!” You yelled a bit too loudly, “Thank Godric you’re up! I’ve been waiting for ages.” You scampered across the room laughing a bit. Harry noticed the almost hazy look in your eyes immediately, dark circles also accompanied them.

“Y/n how long have you been up?” He hesitantly asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

You glanced down at your watch and did a bit of math, “26 hours give or take.” You were bouncing on your heels.

Harry’s eyes widened, “You didn’t sleep at all?”

“Couldn’t, that shit really works man,” You spoke too quickly, “Like really works”

“Exactly how much did you have?” He wondered in part amazement part fear.

“Umm like all of it.” You responded as you walked away from him and began to pack up your stuff in a rushed manner.

“All of it?!” Harry choked out his eyes glancing around the room finding far too many can littering the floor.

You nodded, “Yep, yeppers, sure did. In fact, do you have any more? I think I might need to ride this high for a few more hours.”

“Y/n, I’m not giving you anymore that is extremely unhealthy,” Harry said, watching as desperation filled your eyes only to be replaced by determination.

You sprinted towards his stairs, tripping on one but standing before you could even feel the bruise begin to form on your knee.

“Y/n/n what are you doing?” Harry called after you, “Hey get down here!”

By the time Harry managed to make it up the stairs you had already pulled another box of the drinks from under his bed, ripped it open and was drinking a can. Ron who was shirtless apparently changing stared at you in horror.

“The hell y/n!”

You laughed, “Bug off Ron.” Your voice was so rushed it was almost inaudible. You then ran from the room dodging Harry and stumbling back down the stairs. Harry chased after you frantically. “Y/n!”

You laughed again, “Let’s head to breakfast Harry!” You then skipped out of the portrait hole.

By the time potions rolled around you had finished off almost all of the cans in the new box you had stolen before Harry managed to snag it from you. You were still hours from crashing and insisted on running on your good feeling. Literally.

You sprinted through the halls not much caring about the students and teachers you bumped into. You ran straight through Nearly Headless Nick and shrieked at the icy temperature you plunged into but kept running. You reached the dungeons in record time before running into Malfoy who cussed at you.

You turned to face him in a whirlwind, “You know Draco, I think I’m quite a nice person but you make me just want to break your nose.” You said it so matter-of-factly his eyes went wide and you were gone before he could answer.

You made it to the potions room and burst inside Harry wheezed for breath at the door deciding he needed to work out more.

“Snape!” You called loudly plopping onto your desk and removing your papers, scrawled in messy handwriting.

“It’s Professor Snape.” He corrected you in a snarl.

You blinked owlishly at him tilting your head to the side, “But I’m not a professor.”

Snape frowned, dropping his mouth to say something but before he could, you lunged at him, shoving your homework into his hands and laughing wildly as he stumbled backward.

“Y/l/n what on earth is wrong with you?” He spat.

You shrugged, “Redbull.”

“What is a Red Bull?” he scoffed.

“A potion.” You responded and Harry snorted, “You haven’t heard of it? It's something muggles made, it helps keep you awake when your dickwad of a teacher gives you extra homework.”

Snape’s face flashed, red anger crawling onto his pale visage, “10 points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher.”

You snickered, “Make it twenty you greasy hairball.”

He did.

Pansy found sitting next to you extremely difficult, you continued to pick at your desk, leg bouncing absentmindedly as you hummed a song.

“Have you gone insane y/l/n?” she asked in a hushed whisper refusing to meet your eye after yesterday’s duel.

“Yes.” you confirmed loudly, “I was forced to look at you.” Snickers and laughs echoed around you and you smiled smugly. “I can’t even imagine what it's like for poor Malfoy when you shove yourself into his face every hour. No wonder he constantly looks like he has a broom handle shoved up his ass.”

This caused Seamus who sat a few seats from you to laugh so hard his eyes began to water as his deskmate Dean chuckled helplessly.

“Y/l/n!” Snape hissed, “Do you think this is a comedy club?”

“Considering you’re the one in charge it should be.” You answered. “But you aren’t very funny, so maybe not.”

Seamus howled slamming his hand on his desk as Ron damn near fell out of his chair. Gryffindor lost more points and Harry decided to never give you an energy drink ever again.

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter au #harry potter imagine #harry potter ships #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter crack

597 notes · View notes

between-two-fandoms · 3 years

Text

Thunder In His Mind

Another Franken Fic for your reading pleasure, brought to you by @thesevenumbrellas and @random-nerd-3, sponsored by the JatP 18 + Discord.

Ao3 link here

cw: past-gaslighting, trauma, ptsd

Summary:

There's more to Willie than what meets the eye and Alex has to find out in one of the worst ways possible. It's all Willie can do to not fall apart in his arms during a thunderstorm.

The worst part about being a ghost Willie thinks, is - that he knows - is that you can’t really check the weather. There are plus sides to it sure, skateboarding wherever he wants - but not whenever because that’s something Caleb controls - an extremely cute Hot Dog ghost boyfriend? Also a plus to being undead. The weather is an issue though, it had been for years. Ever since the day he died in that car accident. Being dead meant you can’t feel anything physically; you can’t feel the heat of the sun against your skin or the wetness of the rain when it fell from the sky.

The issue at hand is the thunder.

It’s the thunder because the loud echoing booming claps of the storm reminds him of the ear shattering crack that cut through the air when he died. When he skated into the road to save the life of a little girl who forgot to look both ways. “My name is Rose,” she whispered, tightly squeezing Willie’s hand between her tiny fingers. He can remember struggling to breathe - he found out later in the medical report that his ribs were shattered. Another boom of thunder sounded over head and Willie couldn’t help but wince slightly at the sound of it.

“Roses are strong flowers,” Willie managed to say between his hyperventilation. “You need to be strong,” he can remember saying. The shadow touch of the blood caked to the side of his head made him reach up to place his hand against it as he began to scratch at the side of his head.

“Willie?” Alex asked the question as he gently pulled Willie’s hand away from his face. Willie wasn’t dying all over again. He was here in the present with Alex, his amazingly awesome boyfriend who made him question whatever cosmic being ran the universe because in no possible world did he deserve someone as amazing as the drummer. “You okay?” Alex asked again, snuggling closer into him, wrapping his arms around Willie like he was a koala. They’re curled up in the dark corners of a Pride art exhibition together, broke in after it closed early because of the storm. The walls are painted with rainbows, filled with bright colors and Willie could feel hope sneaking through the pain he locked away long ago when he first signed onto the club. It was after hours so they spent time walking through the exhibits acting as each other’s tour guides only to end up snuggling together on the floor once the storm started to get more serious.

He wants to say no I’m not. He wants to say help me Alex, please. He doesn’t though because like Caleb always says, outside of skating he’s a coward through and through. Willie exhales slowly and when he spoke he tried to make it sound like he wasn’t lying to the only person who loved him back. “I’m fine,” Willie says, his voice dry and cracking and he knows Alex won’t believe him in a thousand years. Another clash of thunder sounds overhead and Willie couldn’t help but flinch again, he pointedly avoided looking Alex in the eyes.

“Yeah, I know,” Alex says softly. They were lying so close to each other that Willie could feel the vibrations in Alex’s chest when he spoke. The low timbre of the beat of his heart reminding Willie that he was safe . Reminding Willie that he was loved outside of whatever relationship he had with Caleb. Then Alex presses a soft kiss to the top of his head and whispers, “it’s okay not to be though. You know that right?”

Willie wants to be okay, he wants to keep pretending. That he hasn’t been . He's been dead the longest between the two of them after all, Alex needed him to be his grounding force and he couldn't be that for him if he was weak. But Willie was tired, he was so tired of being a ghost. He was tired because Caleb had been breathing down his neck recently, working everyone in the club to the bone after Alex and his friends escaped. Not that Willie blamed Alex because Alex was kind and Alex was good and he didn't deserve him . But apparently Alex had other plans in mind because suddenly Alex wrapped his arm around Willie and held him close, like he was something cherished, like he was precious . It wasn’t at all like Caleb’s cold shoulder pats after a long night of entertaining the guests or Caleb’s short worded compliments. Alex was warm.

“I’m sorry,” Willie whispers, turning to bury his face into Alex’s sweatshirt like they were a secret meant only for Alex to hear. He lets himself curl into his boyfriend, legs tucked in as close as possible, fingers clinging to the warm familiarity of the pink sweatshirt. He can hear Alex’s heart beating a gentle rhythm over the thunder. Just rest for a moment, Willie thinks to himself, still keeping up his guard. Caleb is going to want him back to the club after the storm ends. He doesn’t want to show up with bloodshot eyes and a tear streaked face - it would be hard for the makeup girls to get him ready for tonight’s performance. Willie waits, his shoulders tense in anticipation but Alex doesn’t speak. Instead he presses his lips firmly to the top of his head, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. For the next few minutes they stay like that, curled into each other with Alex wrapped around him protecting him from the harm of the outside world.

Then lightning flashes and Willie braces himself for the clap of angry clouds over their heads but it doesn't come. Which didn't make any sense because thunder always comes after lightening. Willie’s conditioned to it, anxiety building up in his chest as he waits for the tell tale sound of a car cracking his helmet in two. Willie fools himself, letting Alex's low hum wash over the eerie silence of the museum and then - and then... right when Willie let himself relax completely the loudest fucking thunderclap in the whole world cracks over head and Willie jumps, poofing out of Alex's arms and somehow manages to solidify across the exhibit, knees pulled into himself tightly, his fingernails digging into his skin; a welcome pain to distract him from the onslaught of memories and pressing his hands against his ears in a weak attempt to block out the memories flashing through his eyelids.

In times like these, times where he’s stuck and he’s trapped and he can’t find a way out are the worst. He has to remember though, to remind himself that he isn’t alone anymore and that even though he felt like his world was crumbling around him that it actually wasn’t. That Alex was there and Alex was solid and Alex was - well, he wasn’t alive but he was warm. “Shh, I’m here,” Alex murmured, his voice a blessing in the chaos of Willie’s mind.

“I’m sorry,” Willie whispers again, this time voicing his apology louder. He lets Alex hold him, wrapping his arms around him like he’s a child being comforted. “It’s so stupid I -” Willie starts before Alex cuts him off with a light tsk.

“It’s not.”

“It is ,” Willie insists, unsure of how Alex couldn’t see how foolish it was that he, a grown ass man, was afraid of a little storm. Alex wraps his arms around Willie, rocking him gently to the rhythm of the rain hitting the roof above them.

“You help me when I freak out,” Alex points out and well… yeah he does but that’s different. It’s different because he’s Willie and Alex is Alex. Alex, who never deserved to die just as his dream had become tangible. Alex, who Willie had betrayed and hurt. Alex who he almost lost because like Caleb says… Willie’s selfish and stupid and desperate for anything remotely beautiful in his life. Alex is so beautiful. He knows that to be true even now, as the thunder rolls overhead and the lighting falls around them. He’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him sometimes. His smile is so earnest, his concern so genuine. He holds Willie like he’s worth protecting, like he’s the only thing that matters in the world. Like… like he’s something precious meant to be treasured and protected and kept safe.

Willie’s not anything Alex thinks he is. He knows how much pain the world can give, how much more pain he’ll have to live through. As terrifying as knowing the pain is, it's even more terrifying because he knows the second he leaves here - the second he leaves the warmth and the safety of Alex and goes back to Caleb - the second he goes back home he'll lose this. He'll lose the safety net he built for himself because Alex doesn't like Caleb for some reason well no. Not for no reason. Alex has a very perfectly logical reason to hate the man who Willie saw as his surrogate father - even if their relationship seems a little too one sided at times- and he can't fathom a reason why Alex didn't hate him too because he had played a huge fucking role in getting the boys to the club and convincing them to sign their fucking souls over for the soul purpose of his selfishness. For thinking Alex would run the first chance he gets the second he realizes just how messed up he really is.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Alex says, finally breaking the silence between them. The sentence is said so matter of factly, Willie almost laughs. Almost being the key word in that sentence. Despite feeling like the world is crashing around him Willie lets a smirk cross his face as his eyes sparkle mysteriously.

“You can read my mind?” Willie asks, wincing at how intense it sounded, no sense of playfulness in the words at all. Alex doesn’t seem to mind the cutthroat question. He just hummed thoughtfully as he considered.

“It’s part of my ghost powers,” Alex answered back, Willie felt his smile against his shoulder.

The answer makes Willie snort which in turn makes Alex laugh and maybe Willie can finally let him have something nice and keep it . Alex’s giggles echo throughout the exhibit and Willie let the sound wrap around him, a blanket of warmth surrounding him in his cold.

“Oh yeah?” Willie manages to ask, the words sticky and dry. He swallowed thickly to hide the surge of panic in his throat. “What am I thinking of?” He asked, letting Alex press a kiss against the back of his head, his fingers starting to comb through his hair . Alex’s whispered suggestively into his ear, his throat ghosting against his neck when he placed a kiss against the exposed skin. Willie couldn’t help but let out a laugh, his heart beating a little faster. He didn’t deserve any of this, to be comforted during a storm when hiding in his HGC bedroom had worked just fine in the past. “That new trick you still haven’t shown me? The picture you laughed at because it looked like an upside down dog head?” Alex asked. The compulsion to look up overpowers his fear of the dark and when he finally does shift his head. Alex is almost shining in the light of the storm, his smile stretching across his face. In the midst of the storm he’s still shining brighter than Willie could ever shine himself. Alex smiles at him, his eyes twinkling in the reflection of a flash of lightning. “I’m thinking about how beautiful you are,” and there’s another clap of thunder but it isn’t as bad this time. Here, snuggled on the floor of a museum tucked between Alex’s strong arms was starting to help him relax more, keep his focus off the storm.

Suddenly, the shadows disappear and Willie's mind is cleared more than it's ever been before. There aren’t any expectations for Willie here. Alex isn’t Caleb. He doesn’t order Willie around or tell him to shush because he sounds like a whiny little boy when he complains about complicated choreography that was hard to nail down and the exhaustive rehearsal schedule that sometimes ended in Willie passing out in his room for over twelve hours straight before poofing into the middle of rehearsal to watch Alex kill it on his drums.

His world is once again centered on his gravity, his world, his boy in a pink sweatshirt.

Willie turned around, sitting so he was criss crossed on the floor and his fingers were intertwined with. Their noses brush together. He can feel the tickle of blond hair against his forehead where it’s escaped from the cap. “You good?” Alex asks, leaning forward slightly so their foreheads touch. Willie knows what he means the second he asks it. Sometimes it’s hard to forget that not everyone is like Caleb. That not everyone hides their intentions behind carefully crafted spiderwebs of lies. So at the next thunder crash Willie nods in response, his stomach still twisted in his gut but he was able to ignore it this time; ignore the pain he felt in his mind in exchange for Alex’s presence.

“Yeah, I’m good...” Willie says, nodding his head. They were close enough for their noses to brush against themselves. He’s surprised to discover how much he believed it even though he thought it was a lie. He’s good here with Alex. He’s good with a body protecting him from the thunder outside. He’s good to curl up here and dot kisses down his boyfriend’s jaw until he’s a blushing mess.

Because this is what home is, this is what he remembers his home being. He remembers the warmth and the kind eyes and the strong hugs and the pitter patter rabbit-like beat of his heart. Alex pulls him close again, Alex will always pull him close. And he's breathing. He's breathing. And Willie turns to smile into the nape of Alex's neck, letting the drummer tie off the braid with a spare hair tie and the drumming of his heart overpowering the sound of the clapping thunder echoing overhead. "Her name was Rose," Willie said suddenly, intertwining their fingers together, placing them over his heart.

"Rose?" Alex asks, his confusion masked by a hint of recognition in his voice. Willie nods as he plays with Alex's fingers, distracting himself from the distancing storm around them. She was so young , Willie could remember the flash of her smile, brighter than the sun had ever been. Ten years old was too young.

"The girl I saved when I died, when I raced into traffic? She was just standing there in the middle of the road alone and I - holy shit, Alex I died, " he said, the realization actually settling into his chest and he suddenly felt the weight of the car crush into his chest again.

Alex looks at him and for a split second, Willie can’t read his expression. “C’mere baby,” Alex whispers, pulling him in again. Willie collapsed into his chest, wrapping his arms around Alex’s back to twist his sweatshirt into his fists. For half a second the brief fear of pulling away flashes in his mind and Alex tightens his grip. Willie would never think about trying to pull away. “Willie you’re so brave, you know that? You’re so amazing. I mean me? I died eating a hot dog. You died saving someone, Willie. You’re incredible ,” Alex whispers and Willie can’t help but tense because baby.

Willie can't help the shudder that runs through his body hearing the pet name escape through Alex's lips. "Don’t - Don’t call me that," Willie said, starting to feel like he’s losing control again. He flickered and fell through Alex’s body landing on the floor in a heap. Caleb's warped whispers snaked into his ears, wrapping around his mind like a vice. William baby don’t you want to make me proud tonight? Caleb asks as he straightens Willie’s suit for him. Baby those steps were a little behind tonight. You need to pick up more rehearsal hours baby. I don’t need my best performer slacking off. What would my clients think? Caleb asked, his voice coiling around Willie’s thoughts and snaking through the cracks his fears left behind.

"Willie I'm sorry I -" Alex started, only for Willie to cut him off with a shake of his head. His hair fell in front of his face so Alex used his hand to hesitantly tuck it behind his ear.

"It’s fine. Pet names I mean just…” He trails off, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his own skin. Thunder crashes again and Willie jumps before finishing his thought. “Just not that one okay?” Willie asks, hoping Alex wouldn’t pry. Hoping Alex would never have to see how horribly rotten he really is from the inside out. Alex’s forehead wrinkles in confusion but like Willie hoped he didn’t pry, but he knew the conversation was just getting tabled for a later date. “You got it,” Alex promised, leaning forward to seal it with a kiss to Willie’s forehead. Willie feels himself flicker and his hand passes through Alex’s. Thunder claps at the same time Willie flinches and he has to hope Alex thought he flinched because of the storm and not his touch. It wasn’t fair how deep Caleb has his claws into Willie, using him to hurt the people he loves.

Willie hates how hard he has to fight the tremble in his limbs as he clings to Alex like a lifeline. He inhales deeply, breathing in the perfume Alex somehow managed to get his hands on. Alex smelled like peaches and summertime and everything Willie used to love when he was alive. The smell helped ground his mind, keep him in the present instead of spiraling into worst case scenarios. Think, Willie thought to himself, one again breathing in the smell of peaches off the nape of Alex’s neck. His eyes are diamonds, his skin feels like silk, his heart beats to it’s own rhythm and you’re the one who gets to hear it. Willie thinks, trying to calm the twisting panic and rise of bile stuck in his throat. “I’m sorry,” Alex says, the words whispered quietly between thunder cracks. When he peels his eyes from the ground and finally looks his boyfriend in the eyes again he’s met with hard pressed diamonds reflecting in concern.

“Don’t be,” Willie says back and Alex’s concern warps into something akin to festering anger.

“I am . I -”

“ - I know.”

“ I’m sorry ,” Alex says again, like if he heard it enough he’d actually end up believing it. Willie just shook his head - another clap of thunder sounded so loudly it shook the walls of the museum. Willie tensed, his shoulders tightening despite knowing that he was safe here.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Willie points out. If anything he should be apologizing to Alex. He should be groveling at Alex’s feet begging for forgiveness because he was selfish and almost had him sell his soul over to Caleb.

Something reflects in Alex's eyes that Willie can’t quite place. It isn’t just confusion or concern or anger. It looks like Alex is feeling a mix of all three, with a twist of cold understanding layered on top of it. "You know you can trust me right? This relationship works both ways," Alex says softly, his voice starting to tremble. Willie didn’t understand why he was acting so... so sad. Willie let them fall into a comfortable sort of silence, tense but easy at the same time. The sound of the thunderstorm filling the museum in their quiet.

"I should... I should get going. Caleb lets me out during storms cause he knows about uh... but he'll be wanting me back." Willie says, pulling himself out of Alex's soft sweatshirt covered arms and away from the beating of his heart. Alex's eyes furrowed in confusion. He always did look cute when he was confused, like a puppy dog. The storm’s far enough away that the soft dribble of light rain is the only thing left behind in it’s wake, which means Caleb would send someone after him if he doesn’t show up in a few minutes.

"What do you mean? Willie, if I said something wrong I -'' Alex stammered out before Willie leans forward to press a chaste kiss against his lips, lingering for a few minutes when he finally pulls away. Alex knew about the car crash now, the real reason he was really dead. He knew he was afraid of storms - William not even children are afraid of storms. It's about time you grow up - Caleb's voice whispers in the back of his mind, cutting into his spiraling thoughts.

Willie stumbles to his feet. He’s still shaky, but he can walk. He doesn’t want to risk angering Caleb more than he has to. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says. The words feel flat even to him. Alex knows it all now - well not all of it, but enough - and that knowledge is almost too much to take. His boyfriend stares at him, big green eyes confused and sincere... and so unlike anything Willie has seen in a long, long time.

“I can help,” Alex insists, refusing to let go of Willie’s hand. It pains him, but he has to leave. Caleb might be evil, he might be the cause of all of their problems… but after everything the ghost club was still the only thing Willie had left to call his home.

“Sometimes there’s nothing you can do Alex,” Willie whispers, gently placing his hand against Alex’s neck. Alex leans into his touch as he wraps his own hand around his.

“Willie-“ Alex starts again but before he hears Alex ask him to stay again because he knows he would. He’d do anything Alex asked him too if it made him happy but he owes Caleb his life and that’s not a debt he forgets easily. But Willie resorts back to his instincts because well, they haven’t led him astray yet and he keeps Alex at arms length when the familiar tug in his gut pulled him back to the Hollywood Ghost Club in time to get ready for Caleb’s opening act.

#julie and the phantoms #franken fic #jatp alex #jatp willie #angst #fanfiction #drabbles #whump #willie angst #we hurt the characters we love #jatp #ren's writing #i love the gays your honor #asdfeeasd #caleb covington

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agentwallflower · 3 years

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Supernova: Chapter 13

Yeah, I’m here... have a chapter. It’s gonna get fun soon.

Next chapter will be going up on December 26. It’s my holiday gift to you. Happy holidays, all that jazz.

...

Yeah I’m still really depressed but I wanted to try and get back in the swing of things. Maybe it’ll help, I don’t know.

Anyway, thanks for reading. See you in two weeks.

A week of being stuck at home had not done wonders for her mood.

“You sure you're ok, kid?”

Aunt Miri didn't normally look worried. She joked it was part of her makeup to look like a permanently pissed off pincushion. That was of course a lie – she had plenty of emotions that she was just good at hiding from most people. That didn't work on Andy, though – she knew the woman from years of seeing her at her bedside.

They were in her car once more, on what was probably the hottest day of the year so far. The newscaster had said before she had left that it was going to get up to 100, and that was before the humidity was factored in. For the humans, that meant they would be sweating their damn skin off and hoping for shade. For her, it just meant the outside was a little closer to her core temp.

Just a little bit though – she ran pretty hot.

She shrugged as she glanced out the window. It was good to see other sights than the tiny view from her attic room. Here she could at least make out the details of the people walking down the street. They all looked pretty sweaty, and most of them had water. After all, humans could die of dehydration, or so she had heard responsible parents tell their children.

Funny, her mother had never told her sisters that. Maybe she had just assumed they would figure it out on their own after collapsing.

“I mean, I went a little stir crazy up there.” She looked back to her aunt. “Thanks for busting me out.”

Her favorite punk pincushion grit her teeth as she turned onto the street the Union kept their hideout. “She was out of line there. Besides, the deal is you get once a week. You already missed one, which means you get two this time.”

Andy would've rolled her eyes at that. “I bet Sky Rider is happy for the overtime.”

It wasn't as though she had spent the entire week in her room staring through the floor to see if she could watch TV – she couldn't, by the way. Seeing through two floors was impossible even for her weird vision. Part of that time had been spent sitting up, staring at her fingers in the hope to see... something... happen.

Was it smart to attempt to use her powers in a residential area? Most likely that was a strong hell no, but it wasn't like anything had come of it besides the vague feeling of being stupid. Had it happened... well, she would've dealt with that later. It was neither here nor there, it hadn't worked so she was just someone staring at her hand for the better part of a week.

“I think he likes you. He kept asking if you were ok.” Aunt Miri shrugged. “Or he wanted the overtime. He's a psychic, they're all hard to read.”

Well, didn't that make her core bubble? Her teacher missed having her in the classroom so he could do his homework.

“Probably harder with that visor on...” Andy watched a dog pass by. She liked dogs. “Does he ever take that thing off?”

The woman next to her let out a sharp bark of laughter as she started to park the car. “Not as long as I've known him. He takes the whole secret identity thing seriously, I don't think even Ember or Scanner know.”

Well, someone had a stick up their ass about that...

It was faster this time to get into the Union house, or maybe it just felt that way to Andy as they made their way up. She still hated the damn elevator that threatened to press in on all sides on her, but it was at least a shorter ride than the first time. Maybe it was like exposure therapy. She should ask somebody about that later...

“Well, here we are, top fl-”

Miri's words died as the doors slammed open in front of them. A man was attempting to barrel his way through, shaking with rage. Given it was a very small elevator... he was kind of left standing in the door, staring at them like a quivering ball of jello.

A very dirty ball of jello...

“Get out of my way, PT.” He had a deep voice that boomed like an explosion. Apart from being very dirty, the only thing Andy could say about him was that he was probably white, probably around 40, and his eyes were the color of mud. They matched the earth that absolutely splattered his clothes and what little skin was uncovered. Normally, she saw him on TV in his often dirty hero gear, glowering at the screen as he stomped off camera.

So... Richter existed after all.

Miri responded by rolling her eyes. “You need to get the hell out of our way first, you know. Little hard to walk around a mountain of a man.”

Richter growled, but a few seconds later he took some steps back. Andy and PT stepped through the dirt he left behind. It wasn't like he made the stuff – that would be neat – but he wasn't terrakinetic. Rather, he just got his power from being around the earth and throwing it around. If that meant he needed to be a little dirty, he didn't seem to mind.

Made him not very fun to be around, though.

“Always with the jokes.” He entered into the elevator and slammed the button with a dirty fist. Soon the doors were closing on his clenched jaw and burning eyes. Then he was gone, with a dent in the wall and a bunch of mud the only proof he had ever been there at all.

Silence descended over the room as Miri brushed some dirt off her jacket. “And here I am, surprised he still works here.”

A warmth crackled from the room as Ember came back to her senses. “He may not after the talk we just had.”

“Jerk off thinks he can just take shifts whenever he wants. Wasn't in the damn agreement I signed.” Scanner sounded particularly annoyed as they pounded at the keys. “He'll get over it or he'll stay pouting.”

Something about their tone made the entire room wince. Andy didn't really see why, besides coworkers being mad at coworkers. That was really none of her business, so she left her aunt's side to enter the training room.

Time for more boring shit...

---

Well, leave it to Richter to know how to kill the mood.

Angel's ears were still ringing as he watched Andy set up for her training session. She went straight back to the same Nova videos she had been watching the last time, focusing in on what was probably her favorite at this point. It wasn't committed to his memory yet, but it was starting to transpose itself to the inside of his eyelids.

“So, what's up with that guy?” She kept her eyes on the screen. “Is Richter always that pissed off?”

The psychic snorted as he looked up from his sociology notes – yay minor classes. “He's mad because Ember told him to stick to his damn work schedule like the rest of us. We've been busting our asses covering for him and now he's mad he's not getting paid. The rules are pretty simple: if your ass isn't in the spandex, you don't get covered.”

It was on the paper they all signed when they first came up with their stupid nicknames that followed them for the rest of their careers. Somewhere, Ember kept them all to pull out and probably hit people with if they forgot. No doubt Richter got a few staples to the head when he tried to pull what he had. Too bad he hadn't noticed it, would've made the overtime and late nights with little sleep almost worth it.

Almost; he needed his sleep or shit got weird with his powers.

“Sounds like a dick.” She kept watching. “Never really liked him. Auntie's the coolest, but you and Ember are alright too.”

Angel would have been offended by that, but even he had to admit it was impossible to measure up with a butch lesbian in a leather jacket.

He finished scratching down some notes, pausing to check his student's progress. She was still sitting there, watching. Once in a while, her fingers would twitch as if she was trying to mimic whatever Nova was doing on screen. Nothing came off it except what probably would've been one hell of a cramp had she had normal fingers. Just watching her made his hurt as he continued to work.

“Is that actually helping?”

It took Andy a few seconds to respond – she was still doing the finger twitch. “No.”

Only his own blank face kept him from hitting the floor as she leaned back. “But it's not like I have any better ideas. You got any suggestions besides trying to make like Goku?”

Ah, so that had pissed her off more than he had thought. Angel felt his face heat up as he placed his books aside to join her in the middle of the room. That close, he would've been able to sense her aura if she had one. Instead, there was just the void that came with hanging out with an actual goddamn alien. In a way, it was kind of soothing. He didn't have to worry about picking up her thoughts.

Of course, that meant he couldn't get a handle on her powers either. With others, he could get hints if he read their auras. Without that key, they were both flying blind.

Great.

“Well, it's a blast, right? Try focusing on gathering energy in your hand. See, like here.” He tapped the frozen screen. Nova was center screen, holding out their glowing palm as they prepared to unleash one of their famous attacks. “I saw you were trying the whole palm thing, but really focus on imagining and gathering energy there.”

Andy shot him a blank look. “Gathering energy I've never seen.”

“Last I checked you don't have any better ideas.”

The blank stare he got in return would've melted steel. Andy didn't say anything after that, though. She just turned away from him and looked down at her outstretched palm. Of course, it wasn't really her palm. That was just the projection she used to get around.

…

Huh. Maybe perception was the thing.

---

“Have you considered trying to do it when you're blue?”

Andy picked up her head. For the last couple minutes, she had been staring down at her upturned palm in the hopes it would actually do something. The only thing that had changed was the fact Sky Rider was trying to help her, rather than losing himself to his books. Maybe he had finished his homework while she was attempting to train. She could respect those priorities.

He'd probably get along great with her sister. Maybe they had classes and she didn't even know it.

“What was that?”

Sky Rider gestured to her necklace. “Maybe you can't see your powers because the necklace is blocking it. There might be a hint when you're blue.”

Even thinking about her necklace made it feel heavier. Andy normally didn't even notice it, but now it was like having a boulder around her neck. She made a grab for it and felt the stone slip through her fingers. Every time she touched it, it felt like the tuning fork was being struck. When she was little, her mother had told her never to touch the stone while she was wearing it. While the woman had never elaborated, she got a feeling that may have been why.

And now she had to take it off?

Sky Rider must've taken her quiet for hesitation, because he rose and crossed the room. “Hey, Scan? Can you shut the cameras off for a second, I think they're gonna blow with the energy she's about to put out.”

“Not really supposed to do that...” she could hear the buttons clicking as the tech turned whatever was in there off – the electricity crackled as it faded out. “But it saves on having to make you replace the equipment for me. The one in there is a pain in the ass to reach, even if you can stand up for more than ten seconds.”

The psychic nodded as he backed away. “Thanks, I'll let you know when it's all clear in here.”

Then he was back at her side. Andy probably should have thanked him for that, but she had never been good at gratitude. Instead, she carefully gripped the necklace by the chain and pulled it over her head. As she did, she felt the energy field crackle as it was disrupted. It still held as long as it was touching her, but the moment she hung it up on a nearby chair, that field popped and died. No more extra fingers, she was back to how the universe had made her.

This was probably the part where she should have taken a deep breath. Couldn't quite manage that, but she could feel her core bubble and calm as she focused on the dead center of what she would have called her palm. At the moment, it was reflecting the overhead lights rather than making any of its own. A few seconds passed, and that didn't change.

“Well, this is productive.” She shot Sky Rider a blank look. “Got any better ideas?”

He shrugged – she hated humans could do that. “Keep trying. MegaFist didn't become MegaFist in a day.”

“No, she became MegaFist in about 12 minutes after being exposed to-” Andy stopped talking and shook her head. “Never mind, I don't think I'm affected by gamma rays anyway. Back to looking at my palm I guess.”

Sky Rider flashed her a thumbs up. “Just don't blow a hole in the wall, our neighbors have no idea they live next to superheroes.”

…

Yeah, she didn't even want to think about how that worked.

Andy looked back down at her palm, trying to picture the light she had seen that day. Of course, that was hard with her memories feeling like half cooked soup. They kept sloshing around inside her head, refusing to stay put long enough for one to make sense. She could only see bits and flashes of holding her hand up, of the heat and light that followed. None of that came with the activation instructions, though – just a cool light show.

Not exactly useful, but... at least she remembered seeing light first.

“Alright, stand back... I'm going to give it a try.”

Sky Rider jumped back so fast she swore he must have flown. That left her alone in the center of the room, facing the wall the exact way she had watched Nova do it time and time again. In her head, she mirrored the long gone hero as she held up her hand, palm stretched out. Then it was a matter of clearing her mind...

Andy watched her palm, hoping to see the light that would gather there. After a few seconds, she threw it out in the hopes it might be motion activated. Instead, she just managed to whack her hand into the wall when she leaned too far in.

It was a good thing she didn't bruise, or she was pretty sure she would've broken something from the solid collision she made with the wall.

“Are you two doing ok?” Ember's voice called out from the main room. “Sounds like you have jackhammer in there.”

Andy waved her hand to dissipate the vibration running up her arm. “Fine! Just experiencing some technical difficulties.”

That was putting it mildly. How the hell was she supposed to get this damn thing working? Now more than ever she wished Nova had left a manual behind... but until they found it, it was back to the drawing board.

Hopefully... she wouldn't put another dent in the wall. No way they'd be getting any kind of security deposit back now. Though, could someone do that with a bunch of superheroes? That be something she could ask her aunt about on the ride back.

But that was later. Fruitless practice came first.

---

Interested in supporting my writing? Head over to my ko-fi and help contribute to my coke zero addiction!

#Supernova Collision Trilogy #writing

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pitviperofdoom · 5 years

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Fundraiser Commission #1

I will simply be posting these in the order that they are finished.

Thank you for donating $15! Your commissioned Kaminari fic is under the cut.

(I just edited some mistakes on this post; please reblog this version instead, thank you!)

---

Denki awoke in the nurse’s office.

The world dripped back into view slowly. Colors smudged and bled together until they separated, sharpening back into a clear hallway. He shook his head, cautiously running through his usual mental mantra as he waited for the world to finish coming into focus.

Kaminari Denki. Nine years old. Fourth grade. Electrification. June 29th. Saitama Prefecture. He went on to list his address, phone number, and the names of his siblings, until he was finally satisfied that his brain was working properly again.

“Um, hello? Can you hear me now?”

Denki jumped, and his foggy brain finally registered that the room wasn’t quite as empty as he’d thought. He was sitting on one cot, and another boy was sitting on the other, holding a bloody tissue to his nose with one hand and reaching for Denki with the other. Denki shifted away, just in case.

The boy looked crestfallen but didn’t try to chase after him. “Sorry,” he said, one hand still outstretched without really reaching for him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

Denki blinked at him. His eyelids felt heavier and slower than usual. “Um.” He pursed his lips and pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth until it stopped feeling too thick to talk. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

The kid winced, either from embarrassment or because the bruises on his face really hurt. “I’m fine. It’s really not that bad. But what about you? Do you need me to get the nurse? She’s on the phone right now.”

“No,” Denki replied. “I’m good. This just sort of… happens.”

“Because of your quirk?”

Now it was Denki’s turn to wince. He had really been hoping to avoid this, being in a new school and everything. When other kids found out about his quirk’s side effect, sometimes they’d take it upon themselves to make it happen on purpose.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s electrification, and if I go over my limit, it shorts out my brain, and I get… stupid. It wears off, though. Mostly it’s just funny.”

“It didn’t look very funny,” the other boy said worriedly. “And Tsubasa kept pushing you so you’d run into the wall. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

Denki simply shrugged.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. He had left the classroom for lunch, gotten a little lost, and then that kid with bat wings—Tsubasa—showed up out of nowhere and scared him so bad he discharged too much electricity.

Same old, same old.

“Everything except how I got here,” he said.

At this, the other boy sat up straighter. “Oh, I know that. Um, I saw Tsubasa messing with you, so I told him to stop, and he hit me a couple times before a teacher showed up. She sent him off to class and told me to take you to the nurse, so… here we are.”

Denki stared at him. “He hit you?” he asked incredulously. “And the teacher sent him to class instead of the principal?”

The boy shrugged. “He stopped before she actually saw anything,” he said, as if that explained why a teacher wouldn’t find a big kid standing next to a smaller kid with a beat-up face just a little bit suspect. “It happens so much I think they’re just tired of dealing with it.”

Denki’s heart sank low in his chest. Moving to a new school, he’d been hoping it would be better than his last one, but…

“D-don’t worry!” the boy said. “It won’t be as bad for you as it is for me! You have a really cool quirk! I bet you’ll make a bunch of friends!”

Denki tried to play off how pathetically happy the compliment made him feel. “It’s not that cool,” he said. “It makes my brain stupid. I bet yours is cooler.”

This was the wrong thing to say. The boy shrank in on himself, crumpling the bloody tissue between his hands. Denki wanted to apologize, but wasn’t sure how to say he was sorry for giving someone a compliment.

“It’s not,” the boy murmured. “I-I mean, it can’t be. I don’t… have one.”

“Oh,” Denki said softly. “That’s… oh.” There were a couple of quirkless kids at his last school, but he’d never talked to them, and they hadn’t talked to him or anyone else; they mostly stuck together and kept their heads down.

The kid was watching him closely. His hands were in his lap, clenched into fists, and he was just… watching. Denki fidgeted nervously, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

“Um. I’m Kaminari Denki,” he said, because he probably should have opened with that—and would have, if his recent short circuit hadn’t left his brain all muddy. “It’s… nice to meet you? I think? I’ve never met someone like this before.”

The other boy blinked. His mouth opened, then closed again. Before he could reply, the school nurse returned.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she said, blinking in surprise at Denki. “I called your parents, and they said that if you’re feeling sick, they’ll come and pick you up. It’s your choice.”

“I’m okay,” Denki said truthfully. “Thank you. Um, what time is it?”

“Lunch just ended,” she replied. “I can give you a pass, so you won’t be late to class.” Denki was about to thank her when she seemed to notice the other boy for the first time. “Midoriya, what are you still doing here? You should have gone back to class already.”

The boy shrank back again. “I wanted to make sure he was okay—”

“No excuses!” she scolded. “Run along now.”

She went back to her desk without offering him a pass.

---

Midoriya wasn’t in his class, and his new school still felt so big and confusing that Denki didn’t expect to see him again, at least not for a while. He was wrong; at the end of the following day, he crossed a connecting hallway just in time to see Midoriya get flung into a row of lockers.

Slamming on the breaks, Denki forgot all sense and turned to stare. Midoriya was on the ground now, covering his head and face while the boys standing over him jeered and kicked him. One of them was Tsubasa, another was a skinnier kid with a stocking cap pulled over his eyes, and the one standing closest to Midoriya was a grinning ash-blond boy with a quirk like firecrackers in his hands.

One of those hands came down, and Midoriya yelled with pain when a small explosion went off against his shoulder.

All sensible thought fled from Denki’s brain. His body moved, and he charged down the hallway, backpack swinging from his shoulders. He might have been yelling a little, too, because the blond kid saw him coming and jumped back instead of getting whacked by Denki’s bag.

Common sense rushed back in, and Denki found himself standing between three boys and Midoriya on the ground, armed with nothing but his sort-of-heavy backpack and a quirk that he wasn’t even allowed to use.

For a moment the three boys simply stared at him. In fact, everyone was staring at him. The bullies, Midoriya, kids just passing by in the hallway. All eyes were on him.

The blond kid was the first to break the silence. “Get the hell out of the way, unless you wanna join him.”

“L-leave him alone,” Denki retorted.

The blond kid blinked, then burst out laughing. It was an ugly, loud sound. “Seriously? You’re gonna take a beating for that quirkless trash?”

It was Denki’s turn to blink, shocked. He glanced back at Midoriya, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. Then he looked at the kids around him, staring blankly like there was nothing wrong and messed up about what the bully just said. Then he looked at the bully.

“Seriously?” he said. “You’re beating him up because he’s quirkless?” He wrinkled his nose like he was smelling something gross. “Only villains do stuff like that.”

The hallway was suddenly very, very quiet.

The blond stepped forward. “What did you just say to me?” He spoke in a low voice like he was trying to growl, but his voice hadn’t dropped yet, so it wasn’t working very well.

Behind Denki, Midoriya was struggling to his feet. “W-wait, Kacchan, don’t—”

“Shut up, Deku,” Kacchan snapped. “What did you just say to me, trash?” He stepped forward into Denki’s space.

“I said you’re acting like a villain,” Denki answered.

“I’m gonna be the greatest hero, you stupid piece of crap!” Kacchan shouted in his face, and Denki’s mouth crumpled to fight back a smile, because wow, this kid had to be his age but his tantrum made him look five. “Everybody knows it! With a quirk like mine, I’ll be stronger than All-Might! Trash like you don’t even have the right to look at someone like me!”

“I think you’ve got this whole hero thing backwards,” Denki said. “Since, y’know, you were the one hurting somebody ‘til I came along and stopped you.”

Kacchan was looking a little red in the face.

“Plus I think if beating up quirkless people was a thing heroes did, All-Might would’ve mentioned it already,” Denki added. “It’s almost like heroes, I dunno, save people or something.”

“Shut the hell up!” With a scream of rage, Kacchan lunged forward. Midoriya screamed something, and Denki struggled to keep a leash on his quirk.

Don’t short out don’t short out don’t short out don’t short out—

Lightning crackled all over Denki’s body, but the sparks never left him until Kacchan’s firecracker hands touched him. The other boy’s body went rigid for a few seconds, before he fell backward with a yell. Every hair on his head stood up like pins and needles.

Denki didn’t waste any time. Grabbing Midoriya’s arm, he dragged him out of the hallway and ran. Kids parted to let them through. Once Denki judged it a safe distance, he stopped. He was trembling from head to toe, somewhat marveling over his still-intact brain.

“Sorry,” he blurted out. “For, um, pulling you like that. Are you okay? Do you need to see the nurse again?” Midoriya stared at him. “Um, hello? You okay?”

The other boy shook his head. “You just—I can’t believe you just talked like that to Kacchan.”

Denki laughed, and it helped with the shakes. “Seriously? That jerk? I’m surprised he doesn’t get his ass kicked more often.”

“Of course he doesn’t!” Midoriya gaped at him, appalled. “He’s—Kacchan’s the strongest kid ever!”

“Nah, he isn’t.” Denki gave him what he hoped was a comforting pat. “He acts like it, but every school I’ve ever been to had a kid just like him. Jerks like him are a dime per dozen. My dad says the biggest punks always hit high school before they finally figure out they’re nothing special. But seriously, are you okay?”

Midoriya was still staring at him. His uniform was scorched from the explosions, but nothing was bleeding, at least. “I’m… I’m okay. Th-thanks.” He blinked, and his eyes looked wet. “I mean… nobody’s ever—you didn’t have to…”

“Of course I did!” Denki grinned at him. “I dunno about Kacchan’s chances, but I’m gonna be a hero someday. Heroes help people, don’t they?”

Midoriya’s eyes lit up like stars. “You like heroes?” he asked. “Who’s your favorite?”

Denki snorted. “All-Might, duh.”

“Mine too!” For the first time since meeting him, Denki saw Midoriya smile. “My name’s Midoriya Izuku. Do you want to be friends?”

Denki didn’t even need a working brain to answer that one.

#my hero academia #kaminari denki #midoriya izuku #commission #fanfiction #tales from the pit

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jonguntitled-blog · 7 years

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Yeong Min/Emilia

Siggy rose to her feet from the couch, setting her phone down in the spot she had just vacated as she hurried towards the door. Another hurried knock followed shortly after and she chimed out a quick and irritated, "I'm coming, fuck" before reaching the door to her and Emilia's dorm. She didn't bother to look through the peephole as she always forgot and she opened the door to a tall, dark figure, although he was very familiar. Her face went from relaxed to tense and her lips twisted into a thin, straight line. Her arms quickly folded tightly across her chest and though she was a few inches shorter than the man, she stood tall and her presence almost loomed over him. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes bored into him. Min tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat as he heard her muddled words over his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. His hands were shoved firmly into the pockets of his trousers. He looked very uncomfortable and out of place in the corridor of the dorm the girls resided in. His black blazer was buttoned and the fabric was stiff but looked soft, the black dress shirt underneath looking even softer as it resembled silk. Siggy quickly glanced down at his unusual ensemble and raised an eyebrow, scoffing, "What is this a prom date, Min?" "I'm here to see Honey B-." "You don't get to call her that." Siggy spat at him, shifting her weight to one side, "She doesn't want to fucking see your ass, leave." Emilia lifted her head as she heard the commotion from the door, she had been drowning out most of Siggy's voice until she heard the deep, melodic voice she'd grown so used to respond to her. Now it sounded as if they were bickering. She furrowed her brows, closing the book she had been in the middle of reading as she climbed off the couch where she had been lounging with Siggy not two minutes ago. Emilia walked into view of Min and he felt his body go cold seeing her with his own eyes. In Sungho's office he had seen her on his surveillance cameras, it was good to see that she remained healthy, at least she looked healthy. But there were things the black and white cameras could not show him, like the color of her skin and how it had paled, or the purple half moons that had formed underneath her eyes. Was she not sleeping? He glanced down quickly at her left hand, just to see, it was still there. "What's going on?" Emilia's voice disrupted the yelling Siggy had been in the middle of and her overprotective best friend turned to look over her shoulder at the redhead. "Min was just leaving, weren't you?" Siggy turned back to look at Min with a raised eyebrow. "No, I need to talk to Emilia." He stood firm. "Well she don't wanna fucking talk to you!" Siggy repeated and screamed at him this time, shoving at his chest. Min quickly grabbed her wrists and held them firmly in his hands, squeezing them perhaps a little too hard. He wanted to throw her, to toss her against the wall and beat her with his fist until she couldn't stand anymore. He wanted to strangle her until she couldn't breathe and yell at him anymore. He wanted her out of his fucking way. He felt his eyes grow heavy and his vision was turning red. But as he looked down at Siggy, she didn't break eye contact with him and she had the same determined and feisty look in her eyes that she always had. Something in Min clicked as he released her arms and she took a step back, holding one of her wrists with her opposite hand. "Fucker." She muttered out. She looked over at Emilia, almost like they were having a silent conversation with their eyes and they both nodded to each other. "Let's go to my room, Minnie." Emilia spoke, gesturing for Min to follow her. ~ Emilia pushed open her door, Min following closely behind her, closing the door behind him. Emilia wasted no time turning to look at her fiancé with a piercing glare, her arms folded over her chest. She was furious, that was obvious but she was never one who really knew how to express or where to place her emotions properly, something both her parents weren't exactly too good at either. She got fucked on both ends in that aspect. "Where have you fucking been?" That feint British accent she'd picked up from her mother emerged in her angry tone. Min actually flinched hearing the tone of her voice as he glanced down at her, trying to avoid her gaze but her eyes seemed to almost draw him in. He swallowed audibly before closing the space between them, his hands reaching out to grab the sides of her face, capturing her lips with his own in a furiously passionate kiss. Emilia barely had enough time to register what was happening before Min had her on her back on her bed, his hands had moved to pin her wrists down against the mattress. He could hear a quiet whimper against his lips as Emilia struggled against his grip, arching her back to press her body against his. Patience growing thin and adrenaline rushing, heartbeat racing in his ears, Min lifted a hand to unbutton his jacket, struggling to pull it off. He removed his hands from Emilia's wrists as she helped him remove his jacket, keeping her lips locked with his, her tongue slipping passed his lips. Min pulled away for a moment, lips still hovering over Emilia's. They stayed there, silent for a moment as the stillness of her room engulfed them. Min swallowed audibly to break the silence, tossing his jacket onto her floor. It was Emilia who broke the silence, "Wh-where h-have you been?" She said breathlessly, still trying to recover from the unexpected kiss. Min shook his head, reaching one hand down to began unbuttoning his dress shirt quickly, not caring if the buttons broke as he popped them open. "I ca-" he leaned down, planting a soft kiss against her jawline, "can't tel-" another kiss against the corner of her lips, "tell you now" another kiss on the lips. Emilia parted her lips obediently, moving her hands to grip at his sides, feeling his warm skin against her fingertips. God she fucking missed him. She had to hold back a moan just from feeling the warmth of his skin. She pulled away from his kiss this time, turning her head and allowing his lips to linger, wandering down to dip into the crook of her neck, brushing along her skin. She could feel him beginning to pepper her neck with soft kisses, periodically lingering in one area to leave a feint red mark. Her nails penetrated flesh, gripping onto his toned arms and he hadn't even taken off her clothes yet, "I m-missed you, so much...Minnie." Her voice cracked, and she cursed herself for not being able to hide it. Emilia felt large hands feel down the sides of her body, roaming over her thinning waist and underneath the loose sweatshirt she wore. In that moment she felt a pang of fear in her heart. Min was about to see her naked for the first time in almost a month. She had been starving herself, there was a performance soon, she was practicing more and more to keep her mind off of him and eating just made her feel worse. Winter provided a perfect excuse to hide her extreme weight loss but it didn't do much good when you were naked. She froze and frantically, her hands moved down to grab his wrists, halting his movements. Her body tensing up and freezing. Min lifted his head from her neck to look at her, his eyelids were heavy and his gaze filled with pure unadulterated want - want and longing for her. Just her. It made her regret her actions this last month. She finally took a deep breath, realizing that she somehow had forgotten how to breathe and gave him a very forced and weak smile. "Honey Bee," he spoke huskily, "What's wrong?" His fingers lingered over the skin of her waist but gently stroked the warm skin underneath her sweatshirt and she couldn't help but bite her lip at the sensation. Her smile turned somewhat genuine as she looked at him, lifting one of her hands up to brush her fingers through his hair, shaking her head. "Ju-just...maybe we um...shouldn't right now yeah? Seems...stupid." Hopefully he wouldn't see through her lie. "Since when do you think makeup sex is stupid?" He saw through it. "Minnie..." "Is this about your weight?" Emilia felt her body tense even more, her heart felt like it stopped right there in her chest. She nodded slowly, subtly. "I already knew." Min slowly lowered himself so he was situated between her legs. His hands pushed her sweatshirt up to expose her stomach, placing soft chaste kissing in a winding path down from her sternum to her hip bones. The butterflies in her belly couldn't have been going more wild as she stared down at his wildly passionate eyes and it was like the man who unloaded an entire gun clip into a man's face no longer existed. When he reached the hem of her sweatpants, Min stopped looking up and sitting up. "But, I didn't come here to...have makeup sex." He said with an almost disappointed sigh. Emilia nodded slowly and sat up on her elbows, looking down at Min who still lay down between her legs, "So why did you come see me then, Minnie?"

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