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#i’m only two into the arena event and i’m not focusing on this too hard so idk when i’ll post more of this ngl
sasuhinasno1fan · 1 year
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How Lukadrien confessed when Chloe took matters into her own hands
@etherealxgenie I’m your secret santa for the @lukadrienvault gift exchange! I decided since it was at the forefront of my mind to do a Yu-Gi-Oh! au fic for our favourite King of Games and CEO. I added in a few of my own headcannons into this for the au, so I hope you enjoy! Happy Holidays!
Chloe took Adrien in, watching as he flicked through paperwork, seamlessly checking his laptop. Nathalie would no doubt be back in a few minutes, ready to answer anything Adrien had questions on.
“Where’s Rose?” she asked, glancing at the framed photo Adrien had of the two. From the background, she guessed it was on his jet, though Adrien seemed to always gain new ways of transportation, so who knew?
“With Juleka.” He answered, pulling something up on his laptop.
She thought of the girl with purple hair, the one Adrien shelled over a massive chunk of money so she could have a surgery. Adrien would constantly say he got paid back when the bank finally put Luka’s winnings from Duelist Kingdom in his account, but still. For the longest time, she was sure the only person who could pull Adrien from his CEO wall was Rose. She and Nathalie would get lucky at times but Gabriel got his claws into Adrien, keeping him a certain way. Then this blue haired duelist who seemed to switch personalities at the drop of a hat appeared and someone break down Adrien’s walls.
“When are you gonna ask him out?”
That got a reaction, pulling him from his work and looking at her. She didn’t know why he was surprised. She’d joined in a few of their adventures in understanding the simple looking jewellery that usually had a spirit connected to them and she wasn’t blind. Adrien was sweet on Luka and he was the same on Adrien. When he got genuinely angry when her scathing remarks were starting to rub Luka the wrong way, it was so obvious. He never cared much before, telling her to relax and continue later, but he actually yelled at her then. Rose had gotten mad too which meant Luka was really important to them.
“C-Chloe!”
“What? I’m not wrong, am I? I’m sure Plagg agrees with me.” The spirit in the ring didn’t take Adrien over since being released with his God Card, but she knew she was right. “Seems like blueberry likes you, so what’s stopping you?”
Nathalie came in and Adrien quickly ended the conversation, focusing on his assistant.
“Adrien, we still need to talk about the release party for this Duel Disk. You mentioned you wanted to hint at the rideable duelling arenas, this would be the best time, especially since we’re nearly done with the prototype.”
Adrien groaned, flopping back in his seat so hard, the white trench coat he wore fell to the floor. “Parties mean dates. No date means beating off investors’ daughters all evening. And doing that all evening means I’ll be in a bad mood which leads to a crap party and me all over tabloids. Can’t I just do a press release?”
“Just because we were busy with finding the God Cards, causing the spirts to be released fully from the items, your dad and Felix and the insanity that was Alya and Lila doesn’t mean you shouldn’t celebrate an amazing achievement. How is Felix by the way? Will he make an appearance at the party?” Chloe asked, mostly cause the party would make Adrien squirm.
“He’s fine, and no. He’s still got to regain strength in his body after having his mind stuck in a computer for years.”
“She’s right Adrien. The release was overshadowed by Battle City and everything else. It would do well to have this event, help increase our footprint as you will, with all the unpleasantness left over thanks to the Rare Card Hunters.”
“And if you bring a date, you won’t have to worry about investors. Mostly.” Chloe happily added in.
Adrien glanced between them both and groaned. “Fine. Nathalie, you’re in charge. I just want to go in, give a speech and disappear. I’d rather until we get info on competitors if they’re close to guessing our next venture so I know if they plan to try their hand.”
“Very well. Will I be inviting the usual list?”
“Please.”
“How about the group? I’m sure they could do with an excuse to celebrate as well.”
Adrien glanced at Chloe, like she was going to say something about what she’d brought up before. she just smirked at him, watching him silently squirm before he let out an annoyed huff.
“Yeah, you can invite the others too.”
                                                    ___________
Luka jumped when the door to his part time job burst open. A curse was on his lips when he saw Chloe standing in the doorway, looking as queen like as ever.
‘Odd,’ Sass said, floating over his shoulder and annoyingly missing the apron Luka had to wear while working. He copied everything else Luka wore, but not the apron. ‘This is the last place I thought she’d be.’
He couldn’t disagree with the spirit. Chloe worked for Adrien, as well as being his oldest friend and she took her job as a duelist very seriously, since she was sponsored by the Agreste Corp. She tended to rub him the wrong way a lot of the times with the way she acted but he was sure if Adrien acted like an egotistical tyrant to those who upset him, Chloe would take a bit of getting used too.
She walked in, her judgement of the place obvious, even from behind those big sunglasses of hers.
“Chloe. Can I help you? We have new Booster packs.” He was sure Adrien got her whatever cards she wanted, but he had zero clue as to why she’d be here. Adrien was taking school off for a week to catch up work things, Rose and Juleka were hanging out, Ali somehow nudging his way in and the others were doing things, enjoying the quite while it lasted.
“This place is pathetic.”
“You can leave.” He reminded, trying not to get angry. He was tempted to switch and let Sass deal with her. He was a former prince from what they figured out, he delt with annoying ladies.
‘I don’t think many women had a place in high society work. Though Chloe would probably have no issue. Also, I have a feeling she’d just order me to switch back.’
Chloe pushed her sunglasses up and was now digging in her purse before she slapped something on the glass counter and stood there, haughty as ever. “What’s this?”
“I’m playing messenger to all your dumb friends and dropping off your invites to the launch party for the Duel Disk.”
“But…” he glanced at where his Duel Disk was sticking out from his bag, half covered by his jacket.
“Yes, but it’s original launch was overshadowed by Battle City, which he did put together for you and your ghost friend. So, we’re doing it now. You’d better be there.”
He picked up the invite, looking at his name in cursive, the fact that it was also addressed to Sass. He’d never really stepped into Adrien’s world of glitz and glamor, the CEO more than willing to live the life of hanging out at arcades and being normal. The virtual world was more than enough of an insight to how Adrien lived before Sass broke him in a way that he needed to rebuild.
“Also, it’ll look really tacky if you don’t give him a present or something. Everyone’s going to do that, so try not to look like a hopeless mess.”
“Thanks, anything else?” he asked, glaring at the blonde, who pulled his glasses down.
“Nope. And don’t be late!” just as suddenly as she appeared, Chloe was gone, leaving Luka with an invite and bit of anxiety. Did he have a suit for this event? And what the heck did you get for a guy who had access to anything he wanted?
‘Perhaps we can get advice from your mother? And maybe ask your father for a suit?’
“Right, like Adrien is going to like me in anything the guy who kidnapped his sister puts me in.”
‘Maybe this is one of those times we dip into your winnings?’
Fair. Now what to do about Adrien’s present?
                                           _________________
“You look so pretty!” Chloe watched Rose bounce away from her brother, the tulle of her pink dress following after her. The off the shoulder and massive puffed sleeves was a direct contrast to Juleka’s purple dress, corseted tight to her body with the black lace halter. “you look amazing!”
“So do you. Ali must be losing his mind.”
Chloe rolled her eyes, hearing Rose giggle. Watching the two flirt would have been more entertaining if Juleka was actually jealous of how Ali, creator of the Dungeon Dice Monster, felt towards the CEO’s sister. Instead, they were practically in a polyamorous relationship.
Boring.
She did brighten up at the sight of Luka. Of course, he didn’t wear a standard black and white suit, opting for a black and silver mix, leaving his jacket open to show off the jacquard design of the waistcoat. Not bad for someone usually dressed in leather. She glanced at Adrien to see him staring at Luka, completely ignoring what the man he’d been talking to was saying, at least until Nathalie secretly poked him to refocus. She approached the King of Games, knowing her flowing white gown with soft flowers wouldn’t get him to relax. As much as she wanted her best friend to finally admit how he felt about a certain duelist, it was fun to wind Luka up. If he could put up with her, then he’d stick with Adrien through everything.
“Well, don’t you look nice. Didn’t think you owned anything other than leather.” Luka just side-eyed her, radiating annoyance. “I don’t see a gift.”
“I have one. Will you back off?”
“And not make you question your own sanity? Where’s the fun in that?”
She decided to actually back off when he rolled his eyes and she saw him fingering the jade bracelet around his wrist. She wondered if Sass was calling for her head or trying to calm Luka down.
“Juleka, Luka. you two look amazing.” Adrien was finally free of the conversation and walked over, his fake CEO smile replaced by a real one.
“So do you. Most guys can’t pull off a white suit, but you look good.” Juleka replied.
Adrien laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You think so? Rose here thought I wouldn’t let my usually jacket go.”
“It looks good when you’re throwing cards like knives at Rare Card Hunters. Not in every aspect of your life. You’ve got the weirdest wardrobe ever.” Rose commented.
“Thanks. I’ll remember this when you ask for something. Anyway, the others arrived not too long ago. Nino has commandeered a waiter with hor d’ourves, so they’re most likely still there. I have to make my speech soon.”
“Oh, before that, here.” Juleka handed Adrien the bouquet of yellow roses, pulling out the only red one and giving it to Rose. “Congratulations on the Duel Disk release.”
“That’s so sweet, thank you.” Adrien said, sniffing the flowers.
“And this is from me.” Luka pulled out a small jewellery box, which Adrien zeroed in on.
“Oh, Luka, you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
Of course, before Luka could either open it, or hand it to him, an investor with a young girl – daughter no doubt – appeared and interrupted them.
“Mr. Agreste. I was hoping to introduce my daughter Fiona. She’s an exceptional duelist, best in her school. She wanted to apologise for not attending Battle City.”
“Uh, right. Of course.” And back in place as that fake smile. “If you’ll excuse me. Rose.” Leaving without taking the box from Luka, the two blondes slid back into the crowd leaving them alone.
She smacked Luka’s arm hard, nearly making him drop the box.
“Ow! What’s that for?”
“Try harder!” she stormed off, leaving the other pair of siblings alone. She put the ideas in their heads, she wasn’t going to let this night end without having the two fess up on how they felt.
The party continued, Adrien always talking to some snooty person about the business, or to Rose or Nathalie, barely going over to where his friends were. They were making quite a bit of noise as they got one waiter to bring them food over and over. Thankfully, she noticed Luka wasn’t pushing everything under the rug, watching Adrien from across the room. Of course, Adrien was accosted every few feet with a person and their daughter, one brave soul offering their son. Rose did her best to distract by inviting everyone to dance before the big speech, but she only lasted about two and a half dances before like the ball scene from the Cinderella movie 1997, with the prince dancing with every lady, switching every 2 seconds to get it over with. She just needed to get a Cinderella in there.
                                        _______________________
Luka was about to take some shrimp appetizer from the tray being offered when he was yanked away and dragged towards where the dancing was happening.
“Chloe, what the hell?”
“Shut up, and go dance with him.” She said, shoving him to where Adrien was, cutting off the girl who was about to step up to him.
“Um, uh. Care to dance?” Luka asked the CEO
“Excuse me!”
“Sure, I’d love to.” Adrien grabbed his hands and pulled him further to the middle of the dance floor. “Thank you.” he said, putting one hand on his shoulder, allowing Luka to put his free hand on Adrien’s waist.
“Of course, though Chloe helped I guess.”
“Yeah. She’s been a bit much since returning from the Shadow Realm. She’s trying to work through her time there and she’s taken a break from duelling, so she’s finding entertainment elsewhere. Don’t tell her this, but I wish I’d taken her advice for this party.”
“Oh?”
Adrien looked embarrassed, not a look Luka was used to seeing when he had to be CEO. “she told me if I had a date to the event, which I didn’t want to do because of this same issue, I wouldn’t have to deal with people throwing their daughters at me.”
“I think I saw a son in there.” Luka laughed to himself when Adrien glared at him. It was thankfully not his Agreste glare so he knew he was safe. “I’m sorry you’re dealing with all this. I wish you could come over and hang out with us.”
“I want to, but I’ve avoided any sort of big event like this since before Duelist Kingdom. I’ve changed and Nathalie said it would help bolster our image, especially since with everything the Rare Card Hunters caused, intentionally or not.”
“Yeah, causing a death via a duel probably doesn’t paint you in a good light.”
“Hey, in my defence, they had our friends hostage. Summoning Chaos God: Plagg was the only choice I had.”
“I’m not mad. Trust me, thank you for doing that. Hey.” He stopped Adrien and dug the box out of his jacket pocket. “Before I forget, I wanted to give this to you.”
Adrien smiled down at the box, just putting his fingers on it when Nathalie appeared.
“Adrien, it’s time for your speech.”
“2 minutes.”
“Now.” She ordered.
Adrien groaned and pushed the box back towards Luka. “Hold on to this for a little while longer?”
“Sure.”
Watching Adrien slip off into the crowd towards the stairs that lead to the party, Sass was the one who had to get his attention when Chloe reappeared, another smack to his arm.
“Now what?”
“Could you move any slower?”
He stared at her in confusion as she stormed off, grabbing another glass of champagne. “What the hell is her problem?”
‘It’s almost as if she’s trying to have something happen, but it’s not. Something to do with you and Adrien?’
He looked at the box and over to where Chloe stood, glaring at him. He didn’t want to think that she knew but honestly, what proof did he have that she didn’t?
                                   __________________________
“The old design hadn’t hit the shelves and had many issues, causing constraints and even making the holograms an issue to use. My hope is with newer models of the Duel Disk that the holographic input won’t need an external source to be seen. The magic of Duel Arenas is seeing your monsters come to life and that shouldn’t just be limited to a building. Duels are used all over to settle scores and understand a person and while doing it on a table opposite each other does allow for a bond to foster, you really get to know a person seeing them put their whole body into it. It’s my hope that these Duel Disks allow you to show the world the type of duelist you are. Thank you.”
Chloe swirled the little bit of champagne she still had in her glass. She was reaching tipsy and her entertainment was reaching levels of annoyance. She hoped it would have been dealt with early and then she could watch the two stumble over themselves all evening. But nope, here she was watching them get snatched away from each other over and over. It was annoying.
“You’ve been glaring at Adrien all evening.” Marinette said. “Is everything ok? Did you get into an argument? Is this about the Shadow Realm?”
“No, it’s not.” She snapped, but thinking about that place was something she’d rather not, at least not until her next therapy session. “Just, annoyed someone isn’t saying something. I wouldn’t be at this lame party otherwise.”
“I’m glad you are. Really, it makes me happy to see you up and your usual self.”
She scoffed, getting what Marinette meant. “Trust me, I don’t plan on going back ever. Did Tikki ever send anyone there?”
“I don’t think so. Her memory is a bit fuzzy too and she can’t control me like Sass does Luka sometimes. She seems too nice to though. So, who isn’t speaking? Maybe we can help them out.”
“Blueberry and Adrien. I wake up and those two are more attached than normal. I didn’t think nearly getting killed by a crazed protector of the tomb did that.”
Marinette watched Luka who was still in the crowd listening to Adrien’s speech. “I think it was during the time Felix took us to the Virtual World. We saw a lot of what Adrien and Rose went through and when Adrien went up against Felix and his dad, Luka was there for him. He tried to act like it didn’t bother him but Rose was targeted and you know how he gets when she’s in trouble.”
“Ok, fine. So why make me suffer watching those two still figure things out?”
Marinette shrugged. “Maybe after it all it’s hard to think they can have it. I mean, there’s always another shoe dropping.”
“Screw that. I’m fixing this now.”
“You’re taking this a bit seriously.” Marinette said, stopping Chloe before she could go storming through the crowd. “They’re dealing with a lot.”
“So why not deal with it together? when I was stuck in the Shadow Realm, the only thought I had was that I had people I knew were fighting for me. The only reason I haven’t gone insane is knowing I have you losers to trust and depend on. Oh, don’t give me that look,” Chloe said, narrowing her eyes at the surprised look on pigtailed duelist, “like you and your friends aren’t always spouting that.”
“I just didn’t think you’d listen.”
“I’m not an idiot. I actually listen to good advice.” She said before gliding through the crowd, grabbing Luka’s arm as she passed. Once the photographers were done taking pictures of Adrien and Rose, she quickly moved passed the crowd of people and dragged Adrien off the stairs and pushed them to one of the balconies, shoving them both outside and stood guard at the doors. When she saw the annoyed looks on people’s face, she raised an eyebrow and pulled her signature monsters from the pocket in her dress. “Try it, I dare you. I’d be more than willing to prove why they call me the Stinging Beauty.”
Meanwhile, the two duelists stood in the cool quiet.
“Well, I guess I should thank her for helping me avoid that crowd.” Adrien said.
“Yeah.” Luka said, still thinking about what he was sure was Chloe knew. “Hey. I really want to give this to you tonight, so here.”
Adrien took the jewellery box and opened it. sitting there was a hand drawn card. It wasn’t like the one Rose drew for him all those years. This one was drawn by someone with years of skill. It was the card Black Snake, the Fusion card of his Chat Noir and Luka’s Viperion. It had honestly been either luck or Jagged’s hand that the card was created and its only copy given to Luka. the two had used it during their tag duel against the Rare Card Hunters. It had given Adrien enough time to get what he needed to summon Chaos God: Plagg and win them the duel.
“Luka, did you draw this? I thought you said you didn’t draw much anymore.”
“I don’t, but Chloe was insistent I give you a gift to congratulate you. I didn’t know what to give you, I mean, you have access to whatever you want. With everything you had to deal with during Battle City, I wanted to remind I’m here whenever you need, so I drew that for you.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Adrien said, Luka’s favourite smile growing as he gently picked up the card. “I…I need to tell you something. Something that Chloe was also pretty insistent on. dealing with my father, having to relive some of the worst times of my life, all while dealing with people who wanted me dead, having you there meant a lot. It would have been a lot harder to ready myself for the semi-finals if you hadn’t stayed with me. You always seem to know how to keep me going, even if I’m pushing against you. you’ve never given up on me and when you have so few people who won’t give up on you, it means a lot when your one of the people who stay. But it’s more than that. I guess what I’m trying to say is…Luka, I like you. more than just the friend you’ve been. And I know I shouldn’t force you to answer now, but I do have to stay for the rest of the party and I kinda need to know if I need to put my CEO face on.”
Luka honestly hated the CEO face. He didn’t like it when it had been directed at him before he got past Adrien’s walls and helped save his sister, as much as it helped when Adrien used it on others, he hated seeing him become that cold person again. So, he did the one thing he could think of to make sure Adrien never had that face around him. He stepped forward, took Adrien’s face in his hands and pressed their lips together. One of Adrien’s hands just brushed his when the door to the balcony swung open, Chloe yelling.
“I said wait, you brat!”
“Adrien, Nathalie is – oh!” Rose went as pink as he dress before backing away. “Never mind, I’ll take care of it.”
The two looked at each other and started to laugh. “Um, I hope that answered your question.”
“It did. As much as I’d like to continue, I try not to have Rose deal with press to keep her safe so I need to…but, tomorrow, what are you doing?”
“Nothing really. I’m not working and I think Juleka mentioned something about helping Ali with something.”
“Cool. Tomorrow, I’ll take you out.”
“Ok, deal.” Luka said, sharing a smile with Adrien, who tucked the box, card and all, into his suit jacket and headed for the door, still smiling at him over his shoulder.
‘So. That was fun.’ Sass teased. ‘Maybe you should just keep me in your pocket so you can’t hear my commentary tomorrow?’
“Shut up.” He left the balcony and was once against assaulted by Chloe. “Oh my god, what? I gave Adrien his gift and I know you were pushing for more and it did happen. What now?”
“Relax, I was just telling you good job. Now, break his heart and I’ll destroy you before he does. Or worse, I’ll leave you to Rose. She’d got some rather dark ideas for a girl who’s favourite animals are unicorns.” She walked away, leaving Luka and his spirit staring.
‘She’s very strange.’
“Yeah, but I guess I should be thankful.” Luka said, looking at where Adrien was speaking to the press.
Luka knew that there were more things waiting around the corner in their quest for answers but right now, he felt like things were going to be ok.
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@bishop-percival
(Previous) Bishop Percival was certifiably spent, but the adrenaline of that victory allowed him to raise his hands and shout “GLORY BE TO GLORN! TO US!” That is, until Hater bolted in. Percival did not like the angry look on that guy's face… He used his verrry last remaining sliver of energy to put up a weak shield in anticipation of a blast. Hater’s strike shattered the barrier and knocked the Bishop down hard. And now that his energy was completely gone, he could do nothing but twitch from the shock and groan out a creepy laugh as the stadium fell into that dumbfounded silence. As Andy announced the Bishop as the victor, there was one Glornist who definitely was NOT cheering. It was Reverend Mike who, when he realized that what Percival was actually doing to Commander Peepers resembled the forbidden art of blood magic, he excused himself to the bathroom. He promptly panicked in the stall. Blood magic?? BLOOD MAGIC!? There was a reason why such a thing was forbidden throughout history and cultures! Where in the world did Percival learn that!? Not even most lower-level demons are capable of learning such a thing! But a watchdog? Mike didn’t even want to know what Percival sacrificed to achieve that. In fact, Mike was ready to hop into a saucer, ditch it on a distant planet, and hitchhike the rest of the way to the edge of the universe… …No… He can’t leave his brainwashed sister behind with that monster. Here he thought all those years ago that this church that they worked tirelessly to raise would be a protective sanctuary for her. What a damn fool he was, in every sense of the word. He sobbed. He and Teddy had a monumental task ahead of them. Meanwhile, as the stadium roared with cheers and as the confetti fell around Bishop Percival’s limp body, a watchdog could be seen on the jumbotron ripping through the crowds. He jumped over row after row before breaching the arena barrier. His face was red-hot and veiny, and he was shouting incomprehensibly in part because it was mostly German and because he was just SO exasperated. He ran up to Percival, dodging the confetti blasts, and stomped on that freak's guts with all his might!!! The Glornist crowd recognized him as that cursed scientist watchdog. They followed suit in rushing over to their Bishop. Unfortunately for Percy, he could only gasp, cough, wheeze, and protest. “OW! H-HEY! Kicking me while I’m down, Al? Really!?” Bert responded with “Als ob du nicht dasselbe tun würdest!” as he throttled him until he passed out. It wasn’t long before Autumn and the others tore the rabid scientist off of Percival and tossed him out of the way. The Glornists promptly swarmed their Bishop, lifted him up and scuttled away. The jumbotron was now the Bert show. He pounded his fist on the ground and cursed before spotting the Commander’s blaster. He scooped it up and ran off the field.
Teddy had sat next to Bert and spent the battle taking notes whenever Bert was too focused on it to notice. For awhile it seemed as if Commander Peepers had it in the bag.
He had learned forward and squinted in an attempt to identify the white powder Commander Peepers threw. Did he add another decoy tactic for if anyone asked what Teddy spilled during his "interrogation?" Or was this a legitimate strategy?
Once he saw that it affected Bishop Percival and Commander Peepers equally he started to reach for his phone to send a text asking about it. But on second thought, he couldn't miss such a historic event. Instead he leaned and squinted forward so far that he was literally on the edge of his seat.
Just as he had solidly counted this as Commander Peepers's victory/Bishop Percival's delightfully public execution the tables abruptly turned. His rare bright smile quickly fell as the world seemed to chill around him.
Was that a paralysis spell!? Did it only activate by touch? More importantly: If Commander Peepers couldn't beat him then what chance did two mediocre ex-soldiers have!?
When Commander Peepers' protests made the spell's true effect clear Teddy's pen clattered against the floor and went on its way to the bottom row, never to be seen again. Contorted..? Was it some sort of hypnosis?
...No, it couldn't be. His mind was very present and under his complete control. Applied kinesis? Then why wait to get jumped before activating it? But what else would it be..?
Now that it was clear that Teddy would glean nothing useful from watching Bishop Percival psychologically torture Commander Peepers (this was the worst time to realize that he genuinely cared his former parasocial nemesis' wellbeing) he turned his attention to someone who cared far more than him.
It had hit as hard as expected, leaving him at a loss of what to do. He hesitantly reached out to Bert several times as he calculated whether comforting physical touch would be beneficial or detrimental. But he never decided.
When Bert took off Teddy lagged behind in the aisle, muttering "excuse me" to those in his way and nudging watchdogs (more like shoving and an elbow jab for stubborn assholes) out of his way.
Teddy wanted to follow Bert down there. At least to protect him if necessary. Yet he was afraid of attracting attention from the Glornists after he'd subtly refused to (publicly) take a side. That and being seen following Bert wouldn't help his current dubious status.
All he could do was anxiously fiddle with his blaster while he prepared to draw it at a moment's notice. His free hand clutched his heart as he struggled to focus on the blurry blobs on the field. Could he distinguish them if taking action was required?
The other, of course, turned off safety and set power to full.
Caution was replaced by urgency when the Glornists grabbed Bert. His feet had just reached the ground when Bert, thankfully, managed to flee.
Teddy dashed— while staying in the shadow of the wall— as he ran to meet up with his distressed friend. Once they were close enough for the crowd to not completely drown him out he took a deep breath and put his all into shouting,
“BERT! Did they hurt you!?”
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frontproofmedia · 8 months
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JERMELL CHARLO VIRTUAL WORKOUT QUOTES AND PHOTOS
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Published: September 13, 2023
Undisputed Junior Middleweight Champion Charlo Challenges Undisputed Super Middleweight Champion Canelo Álvarez Headlining SHOWTIME PPV® Saturday, September 30 from T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas
HOUSTON, TX. – Undisputed junior middleweight world champion Jermell Charlo held a live-streamed media workout on Monday and previewed his upcoming showdown against undisputed super middleweight world champion Canelo Álvarez topping a SHOWTIME PPV Saturday, September 30, from T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas. Canelo Promotions will present the Premier Boxing Champions Pay-Per-View.
Houston’s Charlo will look to earn undisputed status in a second weight class with a career-defining triumph over Canelo in the first showdown between two reigning male undisputed champions in the four-belt era.
Tickets for the live event, which is promoted by Canelo Promotions and TGB Promotions, are available through AXS.com.
Charlo’s workout streamed live on the SHOWTIME Sports YouTube channel and SHOWTIME Boxing Facebook Page and was co-hosted by WWE Hall of Famer and radio personality Booker T and PBC announcer Ray Flores. Here is what Charlo, along with trainer Derrick James, had to say Monday from his training camp in Houston:
JERMELL CHARLO
“I’ve been doing this my whole life, and now it’s time to put on for my city. Put up or shut up and do what I do. I’m facing one of the best fighters in the world, you have to be excited for this moment.
“Now is the right time for this fight. We’re in our primes and at our best. I wanna shake the doubters off and prove to the world why I’m in this position. There’s a reason I made it this far. I’m gonna show what I’m made of. Everything I’ve done since I was eight years old, I’m putting it all on the line now.
“I’m not going to have to worry about losing too much weight. I’ve been sparring bigger guys for a very long time, and now it’s about bringing that same mindset that I have at 154 pounds and bringing it up with me to 168 pounds.
“Of course, there’s pressure. We have to be dominant and not just rely on a knockout. I have to beat him for 12 rounds. I have to do what I have to do in the ring to protect myself while still being vicious.
“This is a dream come true, just like winning undisputed, winning a world title and making it out the mud was. Once you get this far and see yourself prospering, you just want to keep bringing it. I’m staying focused on handling business.
“We’ve done so much sparring and conditioning. I’m working on the mental as well, because I know it’s not only about the physical. I’ve been training 14 weeks and making sure I do everything I need to.
“I just have to stay hungry. And I’ve been hungry. I would’ve fought Canelo years ago, and it probably wouldn’t have been as big as it is now. But I’m not too focused on being in the ring with Canelo, I’m just hungry. I want to win this fight for my city.
“If I accomplish this massive goal, it’ll be hard to top. I’ll be in the record book with the greats of boxing for a long time.
“I’m so dialed in as far as my team and everyone around me. I just need to get in the ring and do what I have to do.”
DERRICK JAMES, Charlo’s Trainer
“Having two undisputed championships at the same time would be amazing. It would be historic for Jermell.
“It’s gonna be back and forth early. Canelo has to impose his will, and Jermell has to show him who he is. You have to stop him from being his great self.
“Jermell’s advantage is actually his size. You have to maximize that advantage. It’s about what Jermell is able to do. He doesn’t have to become the guy, he has to be the guy.
“You win the fight in the gym. You’re not pulling a rabbit out of your hat. You have to go in the ring having done it the right way.”
(Featured Photo: Andrew Hemingway/Showtime)
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crazwaz-ocs · 3 years
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a while ago i did a hunger games sim for some of my ocs and whenever i’m feeling in a traditional art mood and don’t have any ideas i’ve been drawing things that happened in it, so here’s the opening scene and day 1
(part two here) (part three here) (part four here) (part five here)
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erodasfishtacos · 3 years
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The Brits Dilemma
” Prompt: Harry & Y/N go to the Brits. It’s the first time they’ve been away from their baby. Y/N is struggling but doesn’t want to ruin the night for her husband.
Word Count: 1.8 k +
Warnings: Depictions of breastfeeding
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The award show was going well. It was the first time Y/N had been out in nearly three months besides a few brunch dates and grocery shopping.
Usually, she was pretty confident in what she wore to accompany her husband to all of these flashy events - but not tonight.
Her bump had deflated but she was still attempting to get rid of the stubborn pouch that stayed after the baby had been born. It wasn’t anything out of the norm - just still trying to lose it.
She was breastfeeding and her breasts were much larger than before. They felt heavy and too big for her body. Not to mention, they were constantly swollen and achey. Pads were a must so she doesn’t leak through the tight satin black dress.
The dress was a beautiful custom design by Gucci that complimented Harry’s sharp suit but nothing felt right. It was digging into her sides and made it hard for her to sit on her chair.
The Brits were held in the O2 Arena which wasn’t very far from their London home but she felt like she was lightyears away from her baby. Even though she knew Sasha was in good hands with Anne.
Y/N was so proud of Harry for being up for five - yes, five different awards. It was a record for him and she didn’t want to let him down by complaining. It was his night. He’s been such a devote father - he deserved a break too.
So she swallowed down the anxiety she was feeling about being away from their little newborn for the night along with her worries about her changing body.
There was milling about between the tables before the show got started. Harry had people coming up him constantly - congratulating him on the album, the nominations, the baby.
Married life and fatherhood suited him well. A dazzling wedding band on his left ring finger, a necklace with an S for his daughter, along with her name freshly inked on right above his butterfly tattoo.
The open jacket he wore with is his barely buttoned dress shirt displayed it proudly. It was beautiful, done delicately in a timeless cursive. The font match his wife name that was tattooed on his hand.
He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t excited to have a night out with his wife. He had Jeff booked a hotel for the night to have some alone time with you while his mum got to enjoy a night with her only grandchild.
Y/N was counting down the hours up until tomorrow when she could go home to see her baby. She should really tell Harry that she wants to go home and not out to a club and the hotel.
But the it just slowly starts to deteriorate further when a bald, plump business exec comes to greet the two of you. He gives his warm wishes about the birth of your child before smiling at Y/N and stating, “The baby weight will come off soon enough.”
Her throat closes up a bit and she self-consciously tries to push her chair closer to the table. It was the last thing that she needed to hear. Confirming all of her worst insecurities.
Harry glares at the man before turning to his wife, “Hey, you look s’perfect, my love. I’m so bloody lucky you’re mine.”
He’s truly trying his hardest to bring a smile to her face but he notices it’s never quite meeting her eyes. 
It get even worse when Harry gets his first award, male solo artist of the year. 
As she’s standing and clapping for him - she realizes she’s beginning to leak through her nipple inserts.
Y/N excuses herself in the middle of his acceptance speech to rush through the string of tables - out into the corridor. The last thing she wanted to do was for it to show up on a very expensive dress.
The echo of his voice can still be heard, “Love to thank my beautiful wife who makes writing sappy love songs easy and was the main inspiration for my recent album. She also just gave birth to our beautiful baby.....”
She feels awful when she tunes him out, finding the bathroom and hurriedly rushing in. There’s a gorgeous woman standing at the sink, washing their hands. 
Fucking Taylor Swift.
Any other time it’d be awkward and uncomfortable - running into an ex who wrote multiple songs about her husband.
But she couldn’t careless right now, “Hi, erm, this is really weird but could you unzip my dress? I’m leaking and - shit that was way too much information.”
But Taylor smiles kindly, “No! It’s okay, totally. No worries. Congratulations on your baby - you look so hot tonight.”
Y/N laughs and thanks her for unzipping the dress before going into a stall and locking the door. She slides her bra straps off her shoulders and disposes of the soaked pad in the sanitary bin.
Luckily, she has a clean burp rag that she gently swipes at her breast - wincing as it brushes against her swollen nipples. Even the soft fabric felt too rough on them.
It’s a minute or two before the bathroom door swings open, “Y/N? Lovie? Are you in ‘ere?”
She feels guilt at the panic in his voice. Managing to croak out, “I’m in here,” before leaning forward to unlock the door.
Harry waste no time in sliding into the stall before latching the lock again. Taking in the sight of his wife in front of him.
“I-I started leaking, M’sorry,” Y/N whispers, she has no reason to feel embarrassed but she is. “I missed your speech.”
“None of that, baby. I’ll give more speeches for you to hear - I only care that you’re okay. I’m sorry y’leakin, lemme help you, pet.”
In true Harry fashion, he takes the rag and turns on the sink - running it under warm water before carefully cleaning his wife up.
“Are they botherin’ you? They look irritated and super swollen, darling,” Harry frowns, a very gentle thumb coming to brush against her nipple. Then cupping her swollen breast in his hand, thumb rubbing at the pink skin.
“Just a little bit,” She lies, they’re absolutely on fire with chafing and skin irritation from the bra she’s wearing. She never thought she’d miss her nursing bras and sports bras this much.
He nods and helps place new inserts in her bra. Who’d think this is what Harry would be doing between accepting awards. Everyone unassuming in the arena.
**
Harry has been four for four thus far into the ceremony. They’d only had him go up and give two acceptance speeches. His hand firmly planted on his wife’s thigh throughout. 
When he went up for his second award, the camera zooms in and the crowd coos are he plants a kiss on his wife’s lips before pulling her into a hug - whispering something into her ear the audience can’t hear.
He was much more focused on his wife. He could read her fairly well - he’d like to think. Enough to know she’s having much fun. But he didn’t want to bring it up and make her feel bad.
Harry sees the way she keeps adjusting her bra, fidgets with his rings when his hands in his lap, and not even really looking up while one of her favorite artist - Dua Lipa -performs.
Y/N loved a good party before the baby. So Harry was hoping going to the Brits afterparty would make her feel better and then going back to their hotel room for a some alone time.
**
Y/N has been increasingly quiet when they’re exiting the arena after the final award artist of the year - which Harry had also won.
He was on cloud nine and admittedly a little distracted as he joked and laughed with a small group of friends on the way out. 
“Alright, should we all just pile into a cab for the ride to the party?” Nick Grimshaw asks everyone.
Everyone is in agreement - including Harry -as he calls to order one - standing in the blocked off area away from fans and paparazzi.
Y/N wants to tell him she wants to go home to Sasha but when she hears him say, “Can’t wait to get to Exhibit - haven’t been there in forever. One of my favorite clubs.”
She bites her tongue. Harry is enjoying his night out - why can’t she?
In the taxi, she’s sat on Harry’s lap as they make their way to the club. His one hand is on her inner thigh and the other is on her waist holding her steady.
In the morning, she’ll blame her post-partum hormones and anxiety. But she doesn’t even realizing her eyes are filling with tears and when she blinks they spill down her face.
She wouldn’t feel as embarrassed if she wasn’t in the car full of literal celebrities who are filled with adrenaline and excitement. Chattering and drinking from little liquor bottles they’d snuck in their jackets and clutches.
“Y/N, are you alright?” Rita Ora asks from her seat - noticing the streaks ruining your makeup.
She nods pathetically, wiping at her eyes but Harry is turning her to face him. His bright green eyes filled with concern as he studies her face.
The previously very obnoxiously loud cab becomes silent as they try to give the couple a semblance of non-existent privacy.
“What’s happening, dove? Are you hurting?” Harry panics, coming to wipe the smeared makeup away.
“I don’t want to go to the club,” Y/N sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut at how embarrassed she is of her behavior. She would usually never act this way - especially in public. And Harry knows that so it makes him even more concerned.
“That’s okay, pet. We can go have a night in, when the cab stops - we can uber back to the hotel,” Harry soothes, surprised when that brings on fresh tears.
“N-no, I want to go home. I miss the baby, I want to- need to see our baby. I-I can’t do this. My anxiety is through the roof, Harry. What if she can’t sleep? Or isn’t taking the bottle?”
“Baby, breathe, breathe. We can go home. I miss the bub terribly too. Have been worried about her all night.”
Harry tugs his wife into his chest further - tucking her head into his neck as he shoots his friends grateful looks. They all nod, sympathetic and understanding - despite them not having kids of their own.
**
“I ruined your night,” Y/N says softly in the back of the uber home. “I leaked during the show; cried in front of all your friends.”
Harry takes her chin gentle but firm until she meets his gaze, “You didn’t ruin anything f’me. All I care about is you and the baby - not some stupid award ceremony or party.”
He continues on, “You just gave us Sasha three months ago - y’bloody amazing. Best mum, best wife. Sexiest too - know you don’t think that right now but your body literally grew my baby. I get a hard-on everytime I see you.”
They both laugh, Y/N leaning forward to capture her husbands lips in a meaningful kiss of gratitude and thanks.
**
Anne smiles kindly when the two of them arrive home. A very fussy, red-faced swaddled baby coddled in her arms. 
“She hasn’t settled for quite a while now - she missed her parents very much,” Harry’s mum tells them, transferring her into her father’s arms. He’s automatically rocking and running his thumb over her cheek.
“Ooh, we missed you. Was Nana nice to you?” Harry coos. Sasha has already quieted and is blinking tearfully up at her smiling father.
“Such a good girl, best girl,” Y/N sighs, leaning in to kiss her downy hair. Harry’s hand coming to wrap around his wife’s waist as they peer down at their perfect little daughter.
Anne smiles at his son and daughter-in-law fawning over their little creation with so much love and adoration.
After a minute of chatting -Harry’s mum makes her way up to the guest room after a long night with a miserable baby. They make their way to their room where Y/N strips out of her tight dress and awful bra. 
She sits against the headboard in just a pair of soft cotton panties. Harry is gently shushing her and humming a melody as his wife gets situated. He knew she was anxious to feed the baby.
“That’s it my sweet thing. Y’missed us, hm? We missed you too, bub. Nana said y’wouldn’t take the bottle. Only want your mumma, hmm?” Harry coos, kissing her chubby cheeks.
He’s then giving Y/N the baby, who ferociously latching within seconds and begins eating like she’d been starved for the last week. Making weak little rumbles as she does so.
They both giggle fondly, Y/Ns fingers come to touch her fluttering cheek - memorizing her over and over again.
Harry gets onto the bed and settles next to the both of them. Watching his baby feed in amazement at what his wife was capable of. He smears a few kisses against her bare shoulder - hand on his baby’s back.
How strong she was - as he knew it had to be at least a little bit painful with how irritated her nipples had been. He can tell when she winces every once in a while.
He plants a few more kisses to her warm skin - noticing her eyes getting a bit droopy as Sasha feeds at a slow, suckling pace.
“If I’m being honest, being with you - watching you feed our baby...I’d rather be here than at any club.” 
Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes, “Sure.”
Her husband frowns, “M’serious, this is all I need, baby.”
“I love you, congratulation on all your Brits,” Y/N murmurs, pecking at his lips.
“I love you too. I meant it, during my speeches. I wouldn’t have been able to write those songs if you hadn’t inspired me. You’ll and the bab will always be the best muse.”
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hxt1b · 3 years
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Isn’t It Lovely All Alone
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Masterlist 
If would like to send a request please take a look at my Prompt List, I have a list of ideas that you could use if you’d like whilst sending in the request. 
Yuta x Reader (Some Doyoung x Reader) 
Genre: Angst, CollegeAU (HockeyPlayer!Yuta) 
Warning: MATURE/DARK CONTENT. Mentions of drunk driving, death, swearing, cheating, (by NO means do I condone cheating, this is a story based around fictional events so please in the real world don’t do this.) Mental Health. SMUT. (Unprotected drunk sex, use a condom dudes seriously.) 
WC: 9.9k
Accompanying Story: As Long as I’m Here 
A/N: Please excuse the grammar, I read it over but still some things may have slipped through. The accompanying story is not something that you have to read, this can be read as a standalone. However, if you guys do want to read it, I’d recommend reading it first. Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you guys enjoyed it! P.S. If you do read this without reading As Long as I’m Here, Taeyong’s girlfriend is unnamed due to her being the main character of the other short story. P.P.S. As I wrote this, I realized it was getting very long and I still had a lot to get through, so I decided to split it into two parts. So please be patient I will have the second part up soon, and I really hope you guys enjoy this part. PLEASE let me know what you guys think feedback is much appreciated!
Part One. Part Two. 
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Her breathing was laboured, her eyes closed shut as he moved his hips against hers, his cock throbbing as her walls clenched around him. His breathing mirrored hers. She was a sight to be seen underneath him, her hair fanned out on his pillow as she moaned his name. 
“Baby,” He moaned as his thrusts became more erratic. She opened her eyes and looked at him. 
“Look at me Yuta.” Her voice even, the pleasure gone from it, her moans faded, confused he opened his eyes and looked down at her. Her eyes were red, a huge cut on her forehead oozing blood into her eyes, more blood poured out her mouth onto his white sheets. He struggled to move out of her as she wrapped her cold arms around him and pulled him down to decaying skin, 
“Look at what you did to me.” 
Yuta sat up abruptly in his bed, quickly moving off of it as his breathing staggered, he moved his hand to his throat looking down at his bed only to see clean white sheets. His breathing only worsened as his brain reeled from the nightmare, it’s not your fault Taeyong’s voice said, but Yuta pushed it to the back of his head. You couldn’t have known that that was going to happen man. That was Johnny.  He pushed both voices out of his head his hands shaking as his eyes blurred. He was going to puke, charging out his room he slammed into the shared bathroom door before hunching over the toilet and letting out the contents of his stomach. 
That’s what they thought because Yuta didn’t have it in him to tell them the truth, he knew that the moment he told them the reassuring words would stop and they would see him for the monster that he was. They would see him as the guy that let the girl die. 
“Hey, Yuta, are you okay?” It was Taeyong’s girlfriend. Her concern blatantly showing on her face, but he didn’t deserve her concern or her kindness. She would hate him the most if she knew the truth seeing as she was Ara’s best friend. The same Ara that was dead. His stomach turned again, and he puked again. His throat burning, his mind suffocating from the pain that he was feeling. I deserve it. 
He couldn’t look at her, he didn’t want him to see her face, his face was wet from sweat and the tears that had flown down his face. Kicking the door closed towards her he didn’t say anything. The act was enough to let her know to leave him alone. He stayed on the floor pulling his knees up to his chest as he tried to calm down his breathing. Yuta ignored her as she knocked on the door again. 
“Just go away.” He finally said to her, his voice rough. “You’re the last person I want to see right now.” He didn’t have anything against her, he just couldn’t stand being around her she served as a constant reminder, in the beginning, he’d lied to himself and believed the boys when they told him that it wasn’t his fault but the more time she was around the more time he spent with her the more Ara came back to his head, the more that night haunted him. Now she was always around, and he couldn’t stand it. He felt like he was drowning in his head, he needed to get out. He needed to go to a place where she was not, but for now, the bathroom was enough. 
He listened as her footsteps retreated, minutes later heavier footsteps came towards the bathroom. Yuta moved to flush the toilet and stand up as Taeyong got to the door of the bathroom. 
“Yuta?” His voice was soft like he was talking to a toddler, “You good man?” He asked. Turning on the faucet Yuta stared at his red and splotchy face, he quickly closed his eyes and looked down plunging his hands under the cold water. He couldn’t stand to see his face. 
“Yeah man, I just drank too much last night.” Another lie flowing past his lips as he bent down to splash the water in his face. Before grabbing for his toothpaste. 
“Do you need anything?” Taeyong’s voice was full of the same concern that his girlfriend had. Yuta’s head spun they wouldn’t be this concerned if they knew why he was in this state. 
“No, I’ll be fine.” 
He didn’t sleep after that afraid of what he’d see if he closed his eyes. Four hours later the sun rose allowing Yuta to make his way to the rink for practice. Last night’s game hadn’t gone well for them, it was their third loss of the season and their coach was pissed. Yuta smiled at the fact that today’s practice would be gruelling, it would help him numb his brain from the thoughts that invaded his mind. He wouldn’t be able to see past the tiring pain of the training their coach would outline for them. 
He arrived at the rink just as Doyoung and Jaehyun did. The younger boys welcoming him as they walked into the arena. 
“You didn’t come with the captain and Johnny today?” Jaehyun asked, Yuta shook his head. 
“Nah the Captain was a little preoccupied with his girlfriend and Johnny wasn’t awake yet.” 
Both the boys nodded, and they walked into the arena silently, Doyoung letting out yawn after yawn as they got to the locker room. 
“Did you not get enough sleep?” Yuta asked him, and Jaehyun snickered. 
“His girlfriend doesn’t let him sleep.” Yuta chuckled at the younger boy as well as he let out another yawn following which his face turned a deep shade of red. 
Yuta got dressed in silence after that, as the younger two joked with each other. The practice would run two hours from five to seven leaving the boys that had an eight-thirty class just enough time to shower and head to their classes. 
The scent of the fresh ice helped Yuta to keep his mind centred as he got into his gear focusing very hard on every task he had before heading out to the ice. 
An hour into the practice Yuta’s head was spinning, he was slower than everyone else and though his brain felt calm on the rink his body wasn’t keeping up with him. He coughed harshly as he slammed into the side to grab his water from the bench. 
“You’re slacking today Nakamoto.” His coach barked at him. He didn’t respond as he swished the water around his mouth, just chucked the bottle back at the bench before going back skating back to where everyone else was in standing in a line. 
“You okay dude?” Johnny asked from his left. 
“Yeah.” 
“Apparently he’s just hungover,” Taeyong said from his right, Yuta could hear the sneer in Taeyong’s voice. Luckily the coach blew the whistle before Yuta could say anything and the line of Hockey players took off down the rink towards the first line before skating back to the start. Yuta kept up for the most part but his heart was pounding in his ears and he was feeling faint. The practice finished off with him skating off the rink behind everyone else. 
“Dude, are you actually drinking on a Thursday night?” Johnny asked him as they walked over to their cubbies to rid themselves of their gear before taking a shower. 
Yuta didn’t get a chance to reply before Taeyong scoffed from his side. 
“He was puking his guts out at two in the morning.” Yuta rolled his eyes and kept his mouth shut. 
“Where the fuck did you drink?” Johnny asked again, his voice low not wanted the others to hear him. 
“My room.” Yuta lied. 
“You’re drinking alone in your room?” His voice was full of judgement. Yuta shrugged and walked away from them heading towards the showers. It was easier to let them think he was just being an idiot that drank on weekdays then to let them know what was actually happening in his head. 
---
You fucked up; you left your entire bag in Doyoung’s car. Pulling on your jacket over one of Doyoung’s hoodies you forced yourself to run to campus. You had a meeting at eight with your group mates and needed your bag for it, seeing as all your work was in it. It was already seven you only had an hour to get your stuff and get ready in your dorm. You’d told Doyoung to wake you up and take to campus with him when he’d be going to practice, but you’d only been asleep for three hours before he was up again shaking you, and you just didn’t have it in yourself to get up. Now here you were suffering in the cold November air as you jogged your way to the arena. Lucky for you it wasn’t too far but it was still torturous. One, you didn’t run or partake in any physical activity at that, and two, it was cold as shit you could feel your nose start to run. Huffing out clouds of air you made it to the arena, slamming through the front doors and into the warmth of the heated entrance, you put your hands on your knees and took in large breaths to normalize your breathing. You needed his keys, checking the time on your phone you realized he was probably in the shower he had an eight-thirty as well, but you couldn’t wait for him to come out you needed your bag now so that you could get into your dorm and get ready and be at your meeting. 
Taking in a large breath you charged towards the direction of the men’s locker room. Bracing yourself before you became too embarrassed to do what you were about to you slammed your hand into the door as stumbled your way in. Looking around you came to face boys in different degrees of dress in their practice gear. 
“Y/N?” Jaehyun squeaked looking at you naked from the top half. 
“Where is Doyoung?” You asked as the boy rounded the corner. 
“Babe what are you doing here?” he asked crowding into your space towards the door. 
“I need your keys I need to grab my bag.” He nodded his head not asking any questions. He quickly made his way to his cubby and back to you shoving the keys into your palm. 
 “Keep them with you I’ll see you after my first class.” He pressed a kiss to your lips before pushing you out the door. You didn’t have time to react to what he said or what he did you just booked it to his car. 
---
Yuta was stuck in his spot staring at the door Doyoung had just pushed you through, he was shocked, that was Doyoung’s girlfriend. Yuta shook his head, he didn’t mean anything rude by it, actually, he didn’t know what he meant by it he just knew that he was amused by what had just happened. 
He saw you again at lunch, you were in a black turtleneck that clung to your skin and was tucked into a pair of ripped jeans, you had subtle makeup on your face and your hair was curled. You looked amazing. Yuta was stuck staring until Johnny slammed his bottle onto the table dramatically turning everyone’s attention towards him as he slammed his ass into the chair next to Yuta’s. 
“I fucking hate History man, why the fuck do I need to know what some old fuck did in 1718.” He grumbled. 
Taeyong laughed at him, “Told you not to take History as your elective.” 
“I thought it would be easy.” The table laughed. 
“You thought remembering an insane amount of dates and the names of dead guys was going to be easy?” You asked from across the table as you stole food from Doyoung’s tray. Yuta’s eyes followed your hand as you put the French Fry into your mouth, your white teeth biting down on it. Yuta held his breath as you chewed. Doyoung chuckled at you as you took more fries from his plate. Yuta watched from his side of the table. 
“Dude you’re staring,” Jungwoo said shoving his elbow into Yuta’s side. Yuta roughly swallowed before turning his gaze to Jungwoo. He was staring he realized. His hands flew to his water quickly opening the cap before chugging half of it. Why was he staring at you? He had no clue who you were, today was the first time he’d seen you ever and he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off you. 
“Who is she?” Yuta asked Jungwoo. 
“Y/N. Doyoung’s girlfriend.” Jungwoo answered through a mouthful of food. Yuta scowled at the first year as food flew out of his mouth. 
“How long have then been dating, how come I haven’t seen her before?” Yuta asked. 
“They’ve been dating for about six months, she transferred here this semester.” Yuta nodded, it made sense why he’d never seen you before, the semester had only started three weeks ago and lately, he was so in his head that he missed everything. 
“So, you guys still throwing that party at your house today?” Johnny asked Jaehyun, the latter nodded his head shoving food into his mouth. 
Doyoung answered for him, “Yeah we are, come help set up please?” Yuta took the opportunity to watch you as you tapped away at your phone. 
“Sure, Yuta and I will come by at seven.” Yuta snapped his head to Johnny who was avoiding looking at him. 
“Yeah, we’ll be there.” He said, going along with what Johnny had said. 
Johnny dragged him out of his room at six-thirty throwing the keys at him as they got to his car. 
“Your gonna DD today my dude.” Yuta stared at the keys in his hand then up at Johnny’s car. 
“With your baby?” He asked shocked. Johnny didn’t let anyone else touch his car. 
Johnny sighed but nodded. 
“Yes, I trust you.” Excited Yuta rounded the car and got into the driver’s seat of the black Mustang, it could seat five uncomfortably and only had two doors and was ass to dd in but damn if Yuta passed up the offer to drive the magnificent beast that was Johnny’s car. Shifting the gear as Johnny fastened his seat belt Yuta ripped out of the drive, the engine letting out a roar as he bolted down the street towards the younger boy's rented house. 
Yuta knew why Johnny was letting him dd with his car. He didn’t want him to drink, turning left down the boy’s street Yuta laughed letting his foot push the accelerator as he went faster, but the thing was Yuta hadn’t drank for months now. Not since that night. Typically, he just grabbed a beer and lugged it around not taking a sip everyone around him was usually drunk enough to even notice that he wasn’t. 
Pulling into the driveway he placed the car in park, “That was fucking awesome.” He smiled over at Johnny who laughed back at him. 
“Have fun, today buddy, just don’t get pulled over,” Johnny replied as he got out of the car. Yuta sat in the car for a second longer talking in the smell of the mustang before he got out himself and followed Johnny into the house. 
Johnny didn’t knock he just barged in, so Yuta followed him. Yuta regretted it the moment he saw the scene in the living room, his eyes landing on your bare back as Doyoung trailed his hand up to your head. Doyoung kissing the life out of you on the living room couch. 
“Holy, you guys don’t have a room?” Johnny asked a loud laugh following his words. Doyoung abruptly pulled away from you as you dug your head into his neck. Doyoung scrambled to grab the blanket beside him to cover you. Yuta turned his eyes away, the laughter not coming to him. He forced a smile to his face and kept his face turned away from Doyoung and you. 
“You guys are early,” Doyoung stated pulling you into him. Johnny only laughed in turn. 
“We’ll wait in the kitchen then.” 
Yuta followed behind Johnny to the kitchen his head muddled. He was confused and irritated, why was he so affected by you hell he literally saw you for the first time this morning and he knew you were Doyoung’s girlfriend so why was he pissed. He hadn’t even spoken to you himself.
He felt crazy, crazier than usual. He didn’t need this as well, not on top of his daily dose of unstable. He didn’t need to be pining after his teammate’s girlfriend. Shaking his head Yuta ignored the fact that you were on the other side of the wall with no top on. 
He didn’t even look at you when you rounded into the kitchen fully clothed in Doyoung’s hoodie again. He didn’t look at you as everyone started setting up the party. Didn’t even glance at your face when you handed him a knife to cut open a huge box of beer. He didn’t look at you when you said bye so you could head to the dorm to change, but he had to look at you when you bound back in through a front door and took off your winter coat to reveal a black dress that fell to your midthigh it was a turtleneck dress; simple but it looked amazing on you. You wore a lot of turtlenecks Yuta noticed; a sneer adorned his face once he realized why. 
He didn’t comment just turned away from you as Doyoung slammed through the front door carrying a huge bag of ice. 
“Let’s get this shit started!” Jaehyun said as he bound down the stairs a huge smile on his face. He flashed Johnny a joint before moving towards the back door. Johnny followed out after him. Yuta’s phone went off in his pocket, he let out a large sigh as he read the text on his screen. 
Taeyong: Could you pick us up from our house? 
Sighing again as he typed back a ‘yup’ he dragged his face towards the front door. 
“Hey, where are you going?” His hand froze at the front door, your voice floating towards him. Slowly he turned back to face you, you were looking at him with your head tilted to the side. You’d put on a darker shade of lipstick and had rimmed our eyes with black winged eyeliner. All of it was making Yuta feel some type of way as he looked at you. 
He cleared his throat and pointed towards the driveway. 
“Got to pick up my roommate and his girlfriend, I’ll be back.” You smiled at him and nodded. 
“Okay see you later then.” Your smile was stuck in his head as he took the mustang back towards his house. His mind was reeling with you, and he was beyond confused. He pulled into the driveway and parked pulling out his phone and texting Taeyong to come out. 
As he waited, he realized that he was losing his shit. He hadn’t hooked up with a girl since the summer, not since her. He hadn’t even looked at a girl with remote interest since then actually, so he was beyond confused by his reaction to you. He couldn’t wrap his head around what was happening inside him, he just felt unhinged. Why were you in his head? 
Taeyong and came out of the house holding his girlfriend’s hand tightly, Yuta frowned your face leaving his mind quickly. He didn’t say anything as Taeyong pulled up the door and moved the seat forward getting into the back himself. Yuta didn’t look at the girl that slipped into the passenger seat, he just nodded at her when she greeted him.
His hands clenched the steering wheel tightly as he made his way back to the other house. His eyes were glued to the road. The car was filled with suffocating air, maybe he was the only one who felt it. He didn’t want to look at the others faces to see if they felt it too.
Pulling up to the house he quickly put the car in park and ran into the house, letting the two of them get out at their own pace. He could lock the car from inside. The boys in the house were getting loud as Johnny and Jaehyun came back inside with clouded eyes. Drinks were started to move around as games began to be played and more people filed into the house. Loud music poured from every corner of the house as Johnny began to play his party playlist. Yuta sighed, as realization dawned on him today, he couldn’t leave whenever he pleased. He was stuck here in this house until every last one of the people were out. 
Yuta moved around the house before the air became too stuffy for him and he decided that sitting outside on the porch would be the best bet. He only sat for a couple of minutes before you barrelled out the house, your face red and angry and you were drunk he could tell from the way you stumbled down the stairs, Yuta moved to get up and help you down but before he could even get up from his chosen spot on the railing Doyoung came flying out the door. His face was just as red and angry, just as drunk. 
“You’re gonna walk away from me?” He asked. You threw your hand up in the air waving him off as another drunk boy came out of the house behind the two of you. Nobody noticing Yuta as he sat and watched. 
“I’m done with this conversation Doyoung, I’m going to my dorm find me when you're done being a prick.” You were staggering down the driveway. The other boy less drunk than you two but still evidently struggling to walk properly pushed past Doyoung and followed you. 
“I’ll drive you back.” He exclaimed. You paused in your spot and turned around looking at him. 
“Didn’t you drink?” yes, he did. Yuta was standing up straight as he waited for the boy to answer. 
“No.” He lied. Yuta clenched his teeth and went to stand next to Doyoung. 
“I’ll drive her home.” He told Doyoung. Doyoung only rolled his eyes and shrugged at Yuta. 
“Let her do whatever she wants. I don’t care.” 
Yuta sighed and made his way to you quickly. He grabbed your wrist as you made your way towards a red Camry. 
“You’re not going with him.” You whipped around and faced him. The anger back on your face and it didn’t soften when you looked at him. 
“And you are?” You asked your head tilting to the side. Yuta laughed and pulled you towards him. 
“Go back in the party dude you’re not driving anywhere today. Give me your keys.” The boy scowled at Yuta. Yuta raised his eyebrow at him feeling like he was talking to a toddler. “Your drunk kid, give me your keys.” He held out his hand to the boy, the boy stumbled back slightly grumbling but gave the key over to Yuta before stomping back into the house. 
You stared after the boy as he disappeared back into the house. 
“He’s drunk? Men are scum.” You grumbled and turned away pulling your wrist out of Yuta’s hand. 
“I’ll drive you home,” Yuta repeated motioning to the car. You just nodded and made your way to the car pulling the door open as Yuta unlocked the door. 
“So, dorms, right?” Yuta asked once he was on the road. You nodded again staring at the stereo system. 
“You know Doyoung right?” You asked, Yuta laughed at how drunk you were. 
“Yes, I do, we play hockey together.” 
“Well, he’s stupid. Did you know that?” Yuta wasn’t able to reply before you started talking again. “He told me that I’m so forward. Like wanting to kiss him is a crime. He was so embarrassed by earlier today. Tried to kiss his cheek in the kitchen and he told me to calm down.” You hiccup once, finally taking a breath. Your face was red from the annoyance and anger you felt towards your boyfriend. 
“Would you let your girlfriend kiss you in public?” You asked turning your head to Yuta. 
Yuta’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. 
“Probably.” 
“So, my boyfriend is just a prude.” Yuta laughed. You leaned forward in your seat and turned the music louder, then turned to stare out the window. 
You were drunk, he told himself. You’d be over this fight with Doyoung by tomorrow. 
Yuta didn’t see you again until Monday when all the boys had piled into his house to watch movies. Yuta hadn’t slept again the previous night and he was hanging on by a thread, he decided to forgo the movies and tried to sleep. 
---
Loud pained grunts flowed out of his room. You didn’t know why your feet had taken you to this door. You didn’t even know whose door it was you’d just come upstairs to go to the bathroom. You flinched when a loud thud came from the other side of the door followed by a curse. Not knowing what came over you, just the words open the door repeating in your head you slightly pushed the door open. 
Yuta was on the ground by his nightstand hunched over a broken lamp. He was bleeding, his eyes frantic and his breathing erratic. 
“Yuta.” You said softly, but he didn’t hear you. 
“I didn’t know.” He muttered quietly; you didn’t know what he was talking about. Slowly you took a step into the room moving closer to him. “I didn’t know.” He repeated as he roughly ripped out the broken piece of glass from his hand making more blood gush out. 
“Oh my god, don’t do that!” You were on the floor beside him in a second taking his hurt hand into yours. He was shocked when you grabbed him. His eyes widening, his breathing became worse as he pulled his hand away from you. He wiped the blood onto his black sweats while he took in loud pained breaths. 
“I -I can’t breathe.” His face was flushed and sweaty. He was looking everywhere but at you.  
“O-okay okay, breathe with me.” You said, breathing in slowly and out slowly. After doing that a couple of times Yuta began to mirror your breathing, his eyes finally latching onto yours. You realized how tired he looked. Like he hadn’t slept properly in days. You helped him until he calmed down until his breathing was normal. 
“Y/N, Doyoung is looking for you. Plus, I need the bathroom.” Taeyong’s voice carried into the room from the hallway. Followed by a knock on the bathroom door. You looked up at Yuta his eyes glazed over again as he stared at the wall. 
“Yuta.” You said his name softly, “Look at me. We need to clean your hand.” 
“I got blood on you.” He said. His eyes glassing over with unshed tears. 
“It’s okay. Come on let me help you.” 
“Y/N?” Taeyong called for you again. 
“In here.” You replied loud enough for him to hear you. Seconds later Taeyong was in the room. 
“Fuck what happened?” He asked coming to your side quickly. 
“I found him like this.” You replied to him quietly. 
“I got blood on her,” Yuta said again. 
“Yuta?” Taeyong said putting his hand onto his shoulder moving past you so that he was directly in front of Yuta. “It's okay man, it's okay.” 
Yuta’s head slowly moved towards Taeyong’s and he nodded. 
For the rest of the week, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You didn’t see him at the table you all ate lunch at, or anywhere on campus. You asked Taeyong if he was okay, he’d only told you not to worry about him before moving past you and going to his class. But you couldn’t get his eyes out of your head, the tormented look on his face had your brain in a frenzy. 
You hadn’t told Doyoung about what you had seen, deeming it not your business to spread, but as you got into your bed sliding in next to Doyoung you couldn’t help but ask. 
“Have you seen Yuta lately?” 
“Yuta? Yeah, why?” 
“I just haven’t seen him for a while I was just wondering.” 
---
That Friday you were laying on Doyoung’s couch in a pair of tight jeans and a crop top, ready to drink and have fun at the small ‘gathering’ as the boy were calling it. You tapped away at your phone, your mind drifting off to Yuta again. You’d tried very hard to listen to Taeyong especially after Doyoung told you that Yuta was around just not around you. You understood that maybe he was embarrassed but for some reason, it bothered you. Especially since there was nothing to be embarrassed about if he was embarrassed. 
The door opened loudly snapping you away from your phone Johnny strolled in laughing with Jaehyun. Yuta trailed after them, your eyes narrowed in on his lowered head as he dragged his feet into the living room. When he looked up his eyes caught yours his skin wasn’t as pale as the last time you saw him, but the dark circles, the tired expression it was all still there. 
You sat up on the couch smiling at Jaehyun and Johnny as they passed you and went into the kitchen. Yuta remained having moved towards the wall he leaned his shoulder onto it, his hands shoved into his pockets. 
“Thank you for that day.” He said, his gaze had moved to the floor letting his hair fall over his eyes as he spoke to you. 
“You don’t need to thank me.” You got up and only hesitated for a second before walking over to him. “Are you feeling better today?”
He only shrugged in response. 
“Were you avoiding me this week?” Your voice was soft as you asked the question. He turned his head away from you. 
“Wouldn’t you?” he asked, “We barely know each other, and you saw me like that.” 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed. I’m sure you would’ve done the same with me. Heck, you kind of did when you drove me home after last week’s party.” Yuta still wasn’t looking at you and you really wanted him to. You held your breath as he pushed off the wall and walked towards you. 
“Yeah, well don’t worry about it anymore.” He walked past you and into the kitchen, you watched his back as he rounded the corner. 
For some reason you felt dejected, you couldn’t explain why but that was not what you wanted to hear from him. Somehow Yuta was under your skin and you couldn't help but want to be around him. He looked so broken when you saw him on the floor, you couldn’t just not worry. You couldn’t not think about him. 
“Hey babe,” Doyoung said wrapping his arm around you before nuzzling his head into your neck. “What are you thinking about?” 
“Nothing. Just zoned out.” You said turning your face towards the boy. Your mind was in the kitchen though, following Yuta as he stood silently with the others listening to their laughter. 
As the night went on more people showed up, but it was small only close friends of the team, girlfriends, and obviously the team itself. You found yourself watching Yuta throughout the night. Your eyes constantly finding him, he was withdrawn from the group he’d laugh when appropriate, but you could tell he didn’t know why he was laughing. 
After a couple of hours, you watched him walk out the front door, you watched from inside as he sat on the porch alone staring out at the night sky. Looking around you, you got up. Doyoung was emersed in a game of beer pong with Jaehyun, Jungwoo and Kun. 
You pushed the front door open yourself and stepped out onto the porch. Yuta was sitting on the railing; you knew he saw you come out his head had tilted towards you but he’d quickly looked away. 
“The night sky is pretty.” You said coming up to lean onto the railing next to his. He didn’t reply, your gaze fell from the sky to his face. He was clenching his jaw; from your spot, you could see it flex as he ignored you. “You can’t just ignore me.” 
“Can’t I?” Yuta asked in turn, his words cold. “I don’t need your pity.” You froze at his words. You didn’t pity him, you were concerned. You didn’t feel bad that he was going through something, everyone did at some point. You just wanted to, for some reason, be there for him. 
“I don’t pity you.” You replied. Yuta jumped off the railing and in a second had you caged in between his arms as he leaned into you. Your back pressed against the wooden fence. 
“Don’t you?” He asked his breath fanning your face, “I see the way you look at me. I’m not something to be fixed.” You harshly swallowed, you’d never been this close to Yuta. Heck, this was your second real conversation with him, if it could even be called that. 
His eyes darkened as you leaned away from him. 
“Leave it alone, Y/N.” He pushed off the railing and began to walk away from you, but like it had a mind of its own your hand reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt. 
“I don’t want to fix you. I just want to…” You trailed off. Be there for you. But it felt weird to say because why did you want that, you two barely even knew each other. Yuta looked at you angling his body towards you again. His eyes softened as he saw the expression on your face, your face was open, your eyes telling him the words you couldn’t say. 
“Let’s go inside.” 
You followed him into the warm house, Ten and Kun were yelling at each other as they played a game on the PlayStation, you followed Yuta past them and into the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water. 
“You’re not drinking?” You asked. He shook his head in reply. 
“Nope, not today.” 
“You didn’t last week either.” He just shrugged and took the cap off the bottle before chugging it. 
You watched his adam's apple as he swallowed, his throat becoming more exposed as he tilted his head back and drank the water. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” He said turning his face away from you. You snapped out of your daze and narrowed your eyes at the side of his head. “You have a boyfriend.” You furrowed your eyebrows as he looked at you. His own eyes dark, you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. 
You didn’t see him the next day and your brain tumbled into a spiral of questions, the biggest one; was he avoiding you again? The entire day he was on your brain and you didn’t know what to make of it, he confused you the way he made you feel. You made your way up the steps to Doyoung’s house, your boyfriend following behind you. 
“Y/N are you okay? What are you thinking about?” He asked stopping you before you went into the house. “You’ve been off all day.” 
You looked up at his concerned face and you didn’t know what to say. Your brain was riddled with Yuta, taking in Doyoung’s face a sense of guilt punched you in the chest. You couldn’t understand what was happening but as you stood on the porch in front of your boyfriend the only person you could think of was Yuta. You shook your head softly muttering nothing as you turned away from him and opened the door walking into his house. 
You stopped in your steps; Yuta was sitting on the couch laughing with Jaehyun. Both the boys turned to you as you stared at Yuta. 
“Hey,” He said, you nodded back to him and waved to Jaehyun before going to the kitchen. For some reason, your heart was beating in your chest erratically. Doyoung followed behind you as you pulled open the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. 
“Y/N.” His voice was soft. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you?” 
You only nodded, you couldn’t talk to him about this, you didn’t understand this yourself. 
“I’m going to take a nap in your room is that okay?” you asked. He nodded and you left the kitchen and quickly passed through the living room not looking at the boys on the couch and bound up the stairs to your boyfriend’s room. 
The room was dark when you threw open his door, and you left it that way as you moved towards his bed to lay down. The room smelled of him, you were surrounded by the scent that you use to crave when you needed comfort, but today it wasn’t comforting you. Your brain kept on flashing to the way Yuta had looked at you in the kitchen yesterday, the way his eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn’t handle. And emotion directed at you. Doyoung didn’t even look at you like that. Guilt radiated through your body; it wasn’t like you cheated on him so why did you feel like you did?
A small knock pulled you from your thoughts. 
“Yeah?” You answered, assuming it was Doyoung. The door slowly opened, and Yuta moved into the room. You abruptly sat up, moving back on the bed for some reason trying to create a distance between the two of you. He closed the door behind him and didn’t notice your abrupt reaction. 
“Are you okay?” He asked. You fiddled your fingers as he moved closer to the bed, his presence taking up the room, you swallowed as he sat down. Your body going into overdrive as he looked at you. This is insane, your brain screamed as your heart pounded in your chest. 
“I met you only a couple of weeks ago.” You said, Yuta’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you, confusion clouding his eyes. 
“Yeah, I kn-”
“And I’m dating Doyoung.” You clenched the sheets at your side, your hands fisting into them as you looked away from Yuta. 
“Yeah, you ar-”
“I also don’t know anything about you.” Your blood was rushing in your head as your thoughts scattered, he was so close to you, he was at the foot of the bed, but you felt like he was too close to you. “Why do I want to kiss you this bad.” 
---
Yuta froze, that was the last thing he expected you to say. He came after you because you looked awful, upset, and he felt like he owed it to you to check on you because yesterday you showed that you cared enough to check on him. He thought you were moving towards a form of friendship, he was hesitant at first but accepted it, he even reasoned out that whatever small puppy crush he had on you would dissipate if he could treat you as a friend. 
Your words were echoing around his head, and his hand itched to pull you to him, but he couldn’t. He got up from the bed and didn’t reply to you. He couldn’t, if he opened his mouth he would say the wrong thing. He couldn’t do that to Doyoung, he couldn’t do that to you. 
You looked so small on the bed, your knees were pulled up to your chest, and your eyes closed. Yuta’s breathing shallowed as Ara’s face flashed into his head, the bloody body that he never actually saw but somehow haunted his mind switched places with you as he backed up towards the door. 
He couldn’t do this. Quickly turning he stormed out the room, down the stairs and out the front door. He ignored the calling of his friends as he got into his car and drove home. His hands were trembling on the steering wheel as he drove the short distance back to his house. He felt like he was going to puke, his heart was beating loudly against his ribs his head was spinning. 
Too many emotions coursed through him as he pulled the car onto his driveway threw it into park, clambering out of his car he ran towards his house door. Wiping the sweat that was gathering onto his palms he opened the front door and came face to face with Taeyong’s girlfriend. 
“Yuta?” She asked her eyes showing him that concern that he didn’t want again. Is head only spun more from seeing her, Ara flashed in his head again, a smiling girl standing next to the woman in front of him, Ara laughing with her best friend. He felt like he couldn’t breathe again, his back hitting the wall next to his front door. She called his name again but he barely heard her and his hand flew to his throat. 
“I can’t,” He muttered letting himself fall to the ground, she followed him. 
“Breathe with me.” She said, Yuta shook his head, his mind unhinging as he pushed her hands away from him. 
“Stop. I killed her okay!” He was frantic as he pushed her away from him, “I don’t need your concern or your pity. I killed your best friend.” She was looking at him with wide eyes, she shook her head softly. 
“No you didn’t Yuta, that wasn’t any of our faults. That wasn’t your fault.” Her tone was soft, and he could tell that she wanted to move closer to him again as her hand heisted in the air. Yuta only chuckled as he pressed his back into the wall. His breathing still not in his control 
He was losing it. He needed her to understand. He needed her to go away from him. 
“You don’t know anything. I fucked her over, I killed.” 
“Yuta yo-”
“I knew she liked me. Do you think I didn’t know how much she liked me? I took advantage of it, I was good at doing that with other girls too. I fucked her, left her in my bed and went to make out with another chick. She found me like that, rightfully got mad and asked me to take her home, but I was drunk. So, I asked a friend of mine, he drove her and they both died. He told me he wasn’t drunk, but I should’ve known. I should’ve known!” 
Her face wasn’t shocked at the words that poured out of Yuta’s mouth, she was still looking at him softly. 
“You made bad decisions Yuta, but you didn’t kill her.” 
He shook his head, only realizing now that his cheeks were wet from tears, he didn’t realize he'd shed.  
“Why aren’t you mad? You should hate me.” She only sighed and carefully moved closer to him. 
“She was grown, she could’ve also checked if he was drunk. He could’ve said that he couldn’t drive because he was drunk. You didn’t kill her.” She was kneeling in front of him, her hands hesitated but he didn’t push away so she pulled him by his shoulder into her. She held him tightly until his breathing calmed down. 
---
He was ignoring you again, you understood why this time. You were embarrassed, the last words you said to him rattling around your brain as you sat across from Doyoung in the library. You couldn’t look at him, you’d been ignoring him for the past week as well. Feeding him lies and excuses about how busy you were. In reality, you’d buried yourself under your covers and sulked. Your brain was a mess.
You couldn’t ignore him anymore though, so here you were sitting across from him at a small table not meeting his eyes as you tried to work on neglected schoolwork. 
“Babe, are you coming over today? The boys are coming over again and we’re just gonna drink and hang out,” Doyoung asked putting his pen down and stretching as he asked. 
You said yes without thinking, your brain not having heard what he asked. When your brain processed you panicked, Yuta would be there. 
----
You were drunk out of your mind by the time Yuta and the others came to the house. Jaehyun was next to you cursing as he played Mario Kart, giggles leaving you as you watched. You were sticking to Jaehyun and Ten today, that way you didn’t need to worry about being alone with Doyoung or wandering off to Yuta. You were worried about what you would do if left to yourself, which made you feel like shit because Doyoung didn’t deserve that. 
So here you were drunk out of your mind, sitting next to your boyfriend’s teammates giggling mindlessly feeling like shit because you wanted to kiss a man that wasn’t your boyfriend, oh yeah and he ran away from you when you told him that. 
You laughed out loud. 
You managed to succeed with your ignoring them plan for most of the night until you had to go to the bathroom. Stumbling your way up the stairs you gripped the railing digging your fingers into the grooves to help your balance. 
You made it up the stairs without falling and took a break at the top your drunk body exhausted from the trip. 
“You're really drunk today.” Your head snapped to Yuta, he was leaning on the wall in front of you. You quickly looked away from him, your heart already doing fuck shit in your chest from being near him. 
“Don’t judge me, you sober saint.” You retorted. 
“I’m not sober, I was convinced into doing some shots.” Your eyes wandered back to his face, you cursed when you saw his smirk, his eyes laughing at you. 
You didn’t reply just straightened out and made to walk by him, but you stopped in front of him a random bought of anger slamming into you, who did he think he was? Why was he toying with you? Why did he make you feel this way? Why did you still want to kiss him?
“Don’t laugh at me!” You snapped at him, his eyes widened when you looked at him. “You ran away from me.” 
“You have a boyfriend.” He replied. Before you could think anything, your hands were on his shirt pulling him into you, your lips slamming into him. He only hesitated for a second before his hands were gripping at you, turning you both around and pushing you into the wall. Your drunk mind was swimming, you knew this was wrong, but you couldn’t stop, your hands moved into his hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against your lower lip you moaned softly and opened your mouth letting his tongue into your mouth, another moan leaving you as his tongue brushed against yours. 
“Wait fuck,” He abruptly pulled away from you. You looked up at him, eyes wide as you realized what you had just done. Yet you didn’t move away from him, he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were pressed shut. 
“The last girl I hooked up with died. I’m fucked up in so many ways that I can’t count. I’m trying to the right thing here but fuck it’s so hard.” His hand on your shoulder tightened. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, his breath fanning your face, you stared at his swollen lips. Somewhere in your mind, you thought about how wrong what you were about to do was, but in the moment your brain couldn’t think properly. 
You didn’t reply to what he just said, and you didn’t move away from him you stood in his grasp until he lowered his mouth to yours again. 
“I’m not a good person.” He said quietly just before he pressed his lips against yours again. You stumbled as he pulled you with him, not taking his lips off of yours. Your hands fisted into the front of his shirt holding onto him tightly as he led you into a room. You only stumbled slightly as he pulled you onto the bed. Your lips leaving his as he let you fall. 
You stared up at him your breathing shallow as you mirrored his. His eyes were dark and filled with lust mirroring your own. You bit your lip as you waited for him, he closed his eyes taking in large breaths. You watched. When he opened them again any conflict in them was gone, you were beyond rational thought. 
Taking his shirt off he tossed it to the side before climbing onto the bed and hovering over you. His lips returned to yours in a fast kiss, one that stole your breath away again. From there everything moved fast, everything was done in a hot haze as your shirt joined his on the ground then your pants and underwear followed by the rest of his clothes his mouth leaving yours and kissing down your body. You were so wound up that you couldn’t take the teasing, fisting his hair you pulled him back up to your face. 
“Please, now.” You breathed before kissing him roughly. You were a moaning mess underneath him as he thrust into you, your walls clenching around him. He grunted as he moved, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. Your hands were on his arms tightly holding on as he fucked into you. Taking one hand from your hip he rubbed fast circles on your clit as you came close to your climax. 
You came, his name flowing out of your mouth before he slammed his lips back onto yours keeping you from saying anything else, keeping you quiet. His hips continued to thrust into you, his lips never left yours, until he finished himself. 
---
You couldn’t look at Doyoung, you couldn’t speak to Doyoung, your heart would break every time he texted you. You were awful and you knew it yourself he didn’t deserve what you had done, but as guilty as you felt for knowing how much it would hurt Doyoung your mind couldn’t accept the fact that it was wrong. It was wrong, but the way it made you feel couldn’t be wrong. Your head was hurting from all the arguments you had in your mind. 
You were locked in your dorm, you had been for the past three days. Doyoung was calling and texting you non-stop, but you couldn’t reply. You heard nothing from Yuta, and you couldn’t help but let that fact hurt you. Your phone rang again, you knew who it was before you even looked at the screen. Sighing you grabbed it, you had to answer. 
“Hey,” His voice was cautious. 
“Hello.” You replied, your hands fisting into your blanket. 
“Are you okay? Why aren’t you answering me.” He didn’t sound angry, he sounded concerned. Your eyes filled with tears, you knew you didn’t deserve that, you deserved to be yelled at for ignoring him at the least. You couldn’t reply you knew that if you opened your mouth, you’d tell him what you did, but didn’t he deserve to know. 
“Y/-”
“I cheated on you.” And you hung up. 
You were a coward you couldn’t listen to whatever he had to say after that, you couldn’t take the yelling that you deserved, you didn’t even deserve to cry. Wiping angrily at the tears that streamed down your face you broke down, sobbing into your pillow. You felt like shit for what you did to him, you felt like shit because Yuta was ignoring you as much as you were ignoring him. 
You didn’t understand Yuta, the last thing he said before you slept with him. Telling you about his last hook-up didn’t even register until you woke up the next day in your dorm alone. The heavy words rattling around in your head. You could put enough together to know that he was fucked up about it, you felt worse when you realized that you added onto his self-image of being a bad person. 
Curling up into yourself you couldn’t stop crying. An hour passed and there was a loud banging on your door. 
“Open the door Y/N,” Doyoung said through the door, his voice loud and angry. You rolled onto your back in bed. You’d expected this from the moment you hung up, but you couldn’t get off the bed, you listened to the pounding on the door, you listened to his angry words turn to begging and you cried again. You cowered away from him, from the world, because how could you face it?
---
Everyone was in his house, every guy on his team was crawling around. When the hockey season was airing this was a normal occurrence for everyone to pile into a house and watch together, but this time Yuta dreaded the full house especially since he was ignoring so many people this time. 
Taeyong’s girlfriend, still, not because he felt awful when he looked at her which he still did but less so but now also out of embarrassment, he’d cried in front of her and that made it hard for him to look at her. 
He was also ignoring Johnny for the past three days because after he fucked up and fucked you, he ran to Johnny and told him what he did. Johnny was mad but then felt sympathy after Yuta explained that he liked you, but he couldn’t look at Johnny now either not after he’d sobered up and realized how pathetic he sounded trying to explain that he liked his teammates girlfriend a lot even though he’d known her all of five seconds and didn’t know jack shit about her it was just an inexplicable feeling. Johnny had tried to talk to him twice since then, but he’d ran away. 
Doyoung too, but that was obvious, he couldn’t face his friend and teammate, practice this morning had been awful, Doyoung was complaining about Y/N going M.I.A. on him. He looked so distressed Yuta felt shitty. 
He climbed down the stairs slowly, staring at his phone as he went down, he didn’t want to make any eye contact. He didn’t want anyone to speak to him, but he couldn’t hide in his room that would only draw everyone to him and then everyone would be looking at him. 
Yet he couldn’t stop his head from snapping up as the front door slammed into the wall and Doyoung stumbled in. His eyes were red, and he looked drunk. 
“Well,” he said loudly looking directly at Yuta, “I am a fucking loser. I’m pathetic and I’m a loser.” Yuta flinched with every word that spilled out of the younger boy’s mouth. Taeyong was instantly at the door as Doyoung struggled with his shoes. 
“What are you talking about?” Taeyong asked him as Johnny also filtered into the entryway, taking a spot on the last step on the stairs. 
“She cheated on me,” Doyoung replied and then shrugged, “she won’t even tell me who. She actually won’t even let me into her room.” Johnny glanced up at Yuta, but Yuta kept his eyes on Doyoung. He watched the younger boy hold on to Taeyong as his face twisted in anger. 
“I don’t understand,” he said his face going red. “I just want to know who it was.” 
Yuta’s hand moved to the railing as he bit his tongue, He could feel Johnny throwing glances at him as they all watched the boy break down. Yuta’s gut twisted with guilt as Doyoung stumbled over a pair of shoes and hit the wall. He watched as Doyoung began to cry and Taeyong tried to grab onto him. Yuta’s head was twisting into a tunnel of thoughts that he couldn’t control, all he knew was that he did that. 
“It was me.” The air in the room left as the words left this mouth, Taeyong’s head snapping up to him his large eyes widening before anger flashed in them. Yuta turned his gaze back to Doyoung he could barely breathe as under the three pairs of eyes on him. 
Doyoung was frozen staring at Yuta. Yuta could tell he was processing the words that had just left his mouth. Slowly Doyoung straightened up before he looked up and met Yuta’s gaze, Yuta could see the blatant hatred that had formed behind Doyoung eyes, but he didn’t look away. 
I deserve this. Yuta thought. 
Doyoung shook himself out of Taeyongs grasp and was up the stairs and in front of Yuta in a second. More boys had gathered into the small entryway. Yuta snapped his eyes shut as Doyoung grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. 
“You fucking douche bag!” His words were angry, his hand twitched at Yuta’s shirt but Yuta couldn’t look at him anymore. Doyoung was gonna hit him, Yuta could tell. He expected it. But it didn’t come. 
“Look at me!” Doyoung yelled shaking Yuta, slowly he opened his eyes. The boy's face was so red, his cheeks stained with tears, more tears flowed out of his eyes as his face broke. 
“Why?” Doyoung asked as he shook Yuta. 
Yuta’s heart ached; he didn’t know how to reply. What could he even say? I’m not a good person. Were the only words in his head. Doyoung repeated his question before completely breaking down, his head falling onto Yuta’s shoulders. 
“I looked up to you,” Doyoung muttered into Yuta’s shoulder. 
Yuta froze, his mind going numb. He couldn’t move as Doyoung cried onto him. The words on repeat in Yuta’s head only got louder, until they were screaming at him. Until he couldn’t see anything but the fucked up person he was in his head. He could never do anything right. 
“I have to leave,” Doyoung said lifting his head off Yuta, shoving him as he did so. 
“Why?” Taeyong asked, his voice cold. “Why should you leave? Yuta should.” 
Yuta couldn’t look at Taeyong, he knew what the expression on his face would be because he was looking at himself like that as well with pure hatred.
 I deserve it. 
Yuta didn’t disagree he would be the one to leave, but for a second he couldn’t move. No one did. 
“You’re right.” he finally said. He moved past Doyoung in a rush feeling the heated eyes of everyone on him as he bound down the stairs and shoved his feet into shoes before leaving out the door. He had to leave, he deserved to be alone, to be the one kicked out. He couldn’t do anything right. He was fucked up, he wasn’t a decent guy to girls, and he wasn’t a good friend. With each step that Yuta took away from the house, he realized that he was indeed a bad person. Because good people didn’t hurt the people they loved. 
And they definitely didn’t deserve to be loved themselves. 
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A/N: Please look forward to part two, I will have it up as soon as I can. PLEASE let me know what you think! 
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homerforsure · 3 years
Text
Whumptober No. 5
betrayal / misunderstanding / broken nose
(Hockey AU)
***
He’d always thought the night Jay took the picture would be the worst of it.
Buck’s hands were clutching the rails of Jay’s iron headboard, where Jay had wanted them, where Jay had placed them after stripping Buck of his clothes, saying “Don’t let go.” His slow, sexy, predatory smile was the last thing Buck saw before the silky black blindfold was tied in place. Jay was gone after that, climbing off the bed, telling Buck how good he looked and what he thought he might do and Buck had arched into the words until he was begging to be touched.
“Be patient,” Jay had purred, appeasing Buck with a single finger drawn shiveringly down his thigh. Buck could feel that he’d climbed back onto the bed, but Jay was too far away and he wasn’t teasing; he just wasn’t there. Stretching out longer on the mattress, trying to find him, he’d said, “What’s going on up there?”
Then the flash went off, the bright light cutting through the thin fabric of the blindfold. Jay swore, “Shit. Fuck,” and when Buck let go of the bed with one hand (one hand because maybe he misunderstood, maybe it was fine, maybe he’d laugh and put his hand back and they’d-)to push the tie away, he’d seen Jay, crouched above him with his phone in his hand.
If he’d asked, Buck might even have agreed. He liked posing. He liked having his body appreciated. But Jay’s expression was the alarm of being caught red-handed and Buck knew, knew with a sinking feeling of dread and betrayal, that Jay wasn’t just taking a memento to savor later. He was taking a picture of Rangers center Evan Buckley, naked, smirking, and vulnerable, to use exactly the way those kinds of pictures get used.
Buck forced Jay to delete the photo, made him prove that he’d done it, and then had somehow managed to get himself dressed and down to the street to get a ride without throwing up. His face burned the whole drive home and for half of the night.
And that was the worst of it until five years later. In a new city. When Buck was finally playing the way he’d always known he could. When he was finally earning the respect of his team and the hockey world at large. When he started thinking he might stay. That was when the anonymously authored post was retweeted and reblogged and shared and gleefully discussed on all corners of the hockey internet.
MY WILD NIGHT WITH AN NHL ALL STAR
The Good, the Bad, and the Kinky
His agent’s was the first text he saw when he got done with practice: “Do NOT respond yet. Call me first.”
It had taken another couple messages before Buck realized what he wasn’t supposed to respond to and in the meantime, the texts kept rolling in. Half of them from numbers he didn’t even have saved in his contacts.
“Dude, is that shit true?”
“Are you okay?”
“Do you know who it is?”
“You dog 😜”
“You never told me you were into that 👀”
“Ignore it, Buck.”
“We’re all with you.”
“Fuck that guy.”
“Hey if you need something to take your mind off of it💋💋💋”
“Evan, Mike from the Tribune. If you want to set the record straight, please give me a call.”
From the looks on the faces of his teammates as they tried to pretend they weren’t stealing glances at him, they were getting messages of their own. Hen was the first one to start to approach him with a look of concern, but Buck avoided her, grabbing his bag and sneaking out the door without bothering to hit the stationary bike like usual.
“What the hell did you do to piss this guy off?” Geoff said as soon as he answered Buck’s call. “More importantly, what else does he have on you?”
“Nothing!” Buck answered, nearly merging directly into another car as his hands shook on the steering wheel. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”
“I don’t know, Buckley. None of my other clients get up to shit like this. You need to get yourself a publicist. I’m going to get in touch with Grant and make sure they’re not already shopping you.”
His agent hung up and Buck’s phone continued to buzz and chime all the way back to his apartment.
There were cameras outside which there almost never were. Mostly only hockey fans cared about pictures of hockey players and the press was limited to the arena and their official events. Maybe one or two regular guys who Buck knew by name. It was just his luck that he lived in LA where there were almost more cameras than there were disasters to photograph.
“Buck! Do you know who the author is?”
“Have your teammates seen the post?”
“Are you worried about other former partners coming out with similar stories?”
Buck pushed past them, but the questions followed him inside. His phone didn’t stop. His mentions were a nightmare on every platform. He shut Twitter as soon as he opened it and saw his name in the trending topics. The statements put out by the Kings and Buck’s agent condemning the piece and the interest in it were drowned out by outlet after outlet picking up the post and sharing it out wider and wider.
Can you guess this NHL player by his sexcapades? (Hint: It’s exactly who you think)
Hockey players used to be the humble, hard working gentleman of sports. What happened?
Should the Kings trade Evan Buckley? Can they?
Nash should make Buckley sit for embarrassing the team like this.
Aw, man, don’t do that. Sitting’s a little tough for Buckley right now
🤣
And I thought it couldn’t get worse than the time he fucked that mascot in Carolina
{This post may contain explicit content}
😵‍💫
🤮
Excuse you, Gritty has standards
[98 more posts]
Whether from a latent masochistic streak or just because he didn’t want to look away and find that the story had gotten bigger while he was gone, Buck couldn’t stop refreshing the pages. He read Jay’s words over and over again as his stomach roiled. If it had all been lies, Buck wouldn’t have spent the morning pressed into the corner of his couch, hoodie pulled up over his head like armor. If it had all been lies, he could have made a fiery statement, condemning the mystery author and condemning everyone who thought they had a right to consume and critique another person’s sex life.
There were some lies, of course, but it was true enough that Buck’s heart clenched with it. True enough that he could remember how he felt when it was happening, during the three times they’d been together before the photo. Soft and desired and joyful. There was a part of him that was still exposed to Jay, that always would be, this man with the sharp wit and the sharp smile who got Buck bare, begging and biddable all to make him a joke. As he read the smug asides in the unforgiving narrative, he could hear Jay’s voice in his ear.
The sixth time he read it, there was an addition.
Edit: Ha ha wow this really blew up. Doing an AMA at 6 eastern if you’re looking for more dirty details.
And for the first time, Buck felt the burn of tears in his eyes. Furious. Powerless.
The buzz of his phone started making his skin crawl so he shoved it between the couch cushions and tried not to think about it. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around, rocking just a little as he felt panic creeping in.
What else could Jay possibly have to say? Would he make up more and more audacious lies as long as he had an audience? Would an NHL team want to touch Buck when he was done?
Were there more pictures?
It was the fourth night, the night that Buck caught Jay. Not the first night with the blindfold. What if? Buck shuddered, sinking lower, deeper into the couch, folding himself tighter and smaller, trying to crush the mounting, hopeless fear. He was there for a long time.
When the gentle knock hit his door, Buck jumped and then crouched tighter into his ball. He didn’t answer. There was no one he could face right now.
The knock came again.
Then the door opened.
Buck was up like a shot, nearly falling over the coffee table as he whirled around toward the intruder. Eddie stood in the doorway, holding up one empty hand and pulling his key out of the door with the other.
“Just me.”
“What are you doing here?” Buck asked, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to hide the fact that he’d been digging his nails into his palms for the last hour.
“Well, you took off. And you weren’t answering your phone.”
Hot shame flushed across Buck’s skin. Eddie knew. Eddie had seen the article and the articles about the article and the tweets about the articles and been shouted at by the cameras outside and Buck wanted to sink into the floor.
“Notice you didn’t take the hint.”
The attitude in Buck’s response didn’t faze Eddie at all, “Do I ever?”
And that almost made Buck feel like smiling, because no, no he didn’t. He said, “No. But there’s always a first time.”
Eddie came a little further into the apartment and Buck felt crowded. Eddie always seemed to take up so much space around him. Maybe it was just that Buck felt his presence most strongly than anyone else’s. Especially when he was like this: arms crossed, focused, not letting Buck wiggle out of a conversation that he didn’t want to have.
This time was no exception. When Buck turned and went back to the couch, compulsively refreshing the comments on Jay’s post again as he went, Eddie followed right after him.
“I came by to make sure you were okay,” he said and Buck flinched again, hating that Eddie knew. Hating that the team knew.
“I’m fine,” he answered, keeping his eyes down and away from Eddie. “Coach is going to rip me a new one tomorrow, but my agent hasn’t called me to tell me I’m being traded so yet so I guess that’s-”
“Who the fuck said you were being traded?” His voice was loud enough that Buck looked up, surprised to see the intensity of anger in Eddie’s face.
“THN. NHL Network did a round table on it too, but they didn’t think anyone would take me. Oh, then Kirk Davis did a radio interview.”
Everyone had picked up those soundbites. Even through the heavily bleeped broadcast, the future hall-of-famer’s opinion on Buck had been crystal clear. At least that wasn’t new information for Buck. Davis had all but refused to shake Buck’s hand when he first joined the Predators and was a big part of why his tenure there had only lasted until the trade deadline.
“Kirk Davis is a fucking asshole. There’s a reason they never made him captain.”
“He’s not the only one who said it.”
“Then he’s not the only fucking asshole out there.” When he didn’t respond, Eddie came around the couch to stand face to face with him, noticing the open comments page as he did. “Christ, have you been reading that shit all day?”
Somehow it made Buck laugh. “It’s the same shit I’ve been reading for 8 years. Since I got drafted. Buckley’s a distraction to his team. Buckley’s an embarrassment to the game of hockey. Buckley cares more about getting laid and partying than he does about winning. It’s guys like Buckley that hurt the NHL.”
His voice pitched up as he recited the familiar accusations, staring somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder because Eddie already knew all this about him. Eddie was the opposite of Buck in every way. He would never make himself the center of attention. He’d never do anything to make his teammates ashamed to play with him. He’d never be so stupid as to go home with a guy like Jay.
“Buckley’s finally getting what he deserves.” Buck whispered.
“Look at me,” Eddie said. When Buck couldn’t, Eddie reached out, setting a light hand on his shoulder that got tighter when Buck tried to shrug out of the hold. “Hey. Look at me.”
He moved his head into the space where Buck was staring into the middle distance and waited. Until Buck couldn’t help but flick his gaze to meet Eddie’s. Once he did, he found a furious compassion that startled him.
“You don’t deserve this, Buck. You did nothing to deserve this. It is not your fault. Nobody in our room thinks it is. Bobby doesn’t think it is.”
Buck shuddered under the weight of the words. He wanted to pull himself free and he wanted to step in closer, “My agent told me I should own it. Post a couple thirst traps and a middle finger on instagram and just wave it off like another classic Evan Buckley weekend.”
There was a time when he would have. Times when he had. But this wasn’t a ridiculous paparazzi photo outside a bar, it was… It was private. It hurt.
As if reading his mind, Eddie said, “That’s not what this is. Fire him if he wants to make you pretend this is okay.”
“I just keep thinking if I was anyone else. If I was someone good, they’d all go after him and not me. I didn’t even do anything to him, Eddie. I didn’t-”
Before he could finish his sentence, Eddie tugged him forward and his arms were tight around his back. Buck should have tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help but fall against his chest and cling on. “You are someone good,” Eddie said, making Buck’s breath hitch. “And if you weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s wrong. They’re wrong.”
“I shouldn’t have trusted him,” Buck confessed into the soft fabric of Eddie’s shirt. “I was so stupid back then. I just wanted- I wanted him to like me. And I’m still- It still hurts that he didn’t. How fucked up is that? He did this. And I still just wish he liked me.”
One of Eddie’s hands moved up to cradle the back of Buck’s head. They were swaying, just a little, Eddie rocking them gently. “I know,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
He managed to keep from crying, but Buck couldn’t stop his breath from coming out in soft, stuttering gasps. Couldn’t keep his fingers from digging into Eddie’s back. If he thought about it, he could imagine this post too (Evan Buckley cried like a baby on my shoulder AMA), but Eddie would never do that. The warm heat of him against Buck’s chest was like a blanket hiding him from the world. It was the most vulnerable he’d been all day and the most sheltered.
Eddie didn’t let go until Buck pulled back and even then he didn’t go far, “Have you eaten since practice?”
“I didn’t think I’d be able to without throwing up,” Buck said honestly.
“Do you want to order something from-”
The timer on Buck’s laptop shrieked and they both jumped. Eddie recovered quickly, but Buck’s heart leapt into his throat. He’d almost forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Pulling away from Eddie, he turned off the timer and refreshed the post, looking for the link he knew would be there.
“Come on, Buck, really?”
Eddie reached out to slam the laptop closed, but Buck shoved his hand in the way. “I have to, Eddie. He’s doing an AMA. I have to-”
“I’m not going to let you torture yourself reading what a bunch of sick assholes have to say, Buck. No way.”
“I have to.”
“No, you-”
“Yes, I do!” He shouted it, standing up to look Eddie in the eye. “I have to read it. I have to see it now because if- if- if I wait and it gets reposted- I have to know if he has- I have to-”
“Buck,” Eddie said, putting his hands on Buck’s arms, trying to rub calmness back into him even as Buck’s heart-rate accelerated. “What does he have? What could be worse than what he already-”
“Pictures,” Buck yelled. “I have to know if he has pictures.”
A dark, dark look came over Eddie’s face and he stopped rubbing Buck’s arms to squeeze instead. “You think he has pictures?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Buck whimpered. He saw himself as if from above, stretched out long and lewd against Jay’s sheets. He imagined ten thousand other people seeing it. “He took- I caught him taking one. Once. But I don't know if it was the only one. I don’t- I can’t let them get out. If he has them, I have to know. I have to report the post. I have to-”
“No,” Eddie said.
“Yes, Eddie. I have-”
“I hear you. Okay? I hear you, but I’m not letting you do that. I’m not letting you put any more of that garbage in your head.”
“Eddie.”
“I’ll do it. I’ll report every goddamn post.” Lifting one hand, Eddie stroked a thumb softly along Buck’s hairline. “Let me do it. Let me protect you.”
Buck swallowed hard, fear and relief and longing fighting for control of the tears that were building up again. He didn’t want Eddie to see any of that. He didn’t want Jay’s words in Eddie’s head. But Buck really really didn’t want them in his own. He wanted someone to protect him. “Thank you,” he said, falling forward again to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” Eddie replied, rubbing his hands firmly up Buck’s back.
Eddie wouldn’t let Buck sit on the couch while he monitored the thread. He fished Buck’s phone out of the couch and made him answer the important messages. From Maddie. From Bobby. From Hen and Chimney. Then he’d told him to order food from the Lebanese place they always ordered from when Eddie came over, asking for extra of the pickled turnips. All the while, Eddie’s fingers slammed onto the keyboard, that sound the only reaction he gave to any of the posts.
It should have been unbearable, letting Eddie comb through the messages. Even without seeing them, Buck knew what they were like. He blocked people every week for the same kind of thing. But Eddie had a defense against them that Buck never had: he didn’t believe they were true. Not even a little bit. He didn’t believe there was a chance that Buck was getting what he deserved for being a show off, for never being a points leader, for being open and soft hearted, for being himself. Eddie believed Buck deserved to be protected and he was ruthless about it.
“No pictures,” he said, a while later, when Jay had finally stopped replying to every comment on the page. “And the rest of it is… well. It’s nothing new.”
“Really?”
“Really. I think it’s done.”
Eddie closed the laptop as if by making that gesture of finality, he could make the words true. Buck, allowed back on his own couch, let himself believe it too. Let himself lean into the safety of Eddie’s arm over his shoulders, breathing in a deep sigh of relief as they caught the Canucks game.
The next morning, Jay’s story was hardly anywhere to be seen. It was replaced. By an essay in The Players’ Tribune. It excoriated Jay. It called out Kirk Davis by name and hundreds of online posters by their bad intentions. It praised Buck’s grace, tenacity, and backhand shot and it demanded respect and compassion and privacy from anyone who called themselves a hockey fan. And it wasn’t anonymous.
61 notes · View notes
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The Buddy Fighters Tower, summit. There, there was a round arena surrounded by numerous pillars. Two statues, one of King Dedede with his hammer and one of Meta Knight with his sword, adorned either side.
"—You’re here, Kirby."
A voice was heard. King Dedede and Meta Knight came forth into the arena.
"King Dedede! Thank you for inviting me to such a wonderful party!" Kirby replied eagerly. His gratitude was sincere, but King Dedede became annoyed.
"Calling a serious decisive battle a party ... You’re real calm about this, aren’t you. Detestable brat ... " Then, King Dedede noticed Bandana Waddle Dee standing in wait behind Kirby. "Waddle Dee? What are you doing?"
"Great King, sir. I'm fighting, together, with Kirby."
"Fighting? You?"
"Y ... yes!"
"In short," Meta Knight said, "this means that you’re the buddy that Kirby chose?" 
"Yes!" Bandana Waddle Dee nodded as King Dedede spoke up in dismay. 
"That’s stupid! You can't fight."
"But I ... "
"This is the decisive battle tower where the real warriors fight. It's not the place for you. Back off so you don't get hurt!"
Bandana Waddle Dee, dejected, tried to pull back as he was told, but Kirby shouted, "Waddle Dee is my partner! We’re going to participate in the party together!" 
"Kirby ... " King Dedede narrowed his gaze at him. "Why are you wearing such a weird mask?" he asked.
"This is a new copy ability ... " Kirby reconsidered his words.
If he said what he was wearing was the Wrestler Copy Ability, even though this was a party King Dedede went through a lot of trouble to prepare, it might really hurt the King’s feelings.
"This ... this is ... fashionable! It's a fashionable mask made just for parties!"
" ... What are you talking about, you runt?"
"Um, uh, anyways, let's hurry and start the party already!"
"Hmph. Do you really want to fight so badly?" King Dedede laughed daringly. "I feel the same. Alright, let's get this started!" He struck the floor with his hammer, as if to signal the start of the battle.
Kirby was surprised. "Huh!? What are you doing? I've exercised a bunch already. And even if I didn't, I’m still starving ... "
"Enough of the chitter chatter!" Bandana Waddle Dee quickly readied his spear upon hearing this. King Dedede glared at him. "You! I told you to back off!"
"I'm fighting too! Because I'm Kirby's buddy!"
King Dedede tried to shout at Bandana Waddle Dee, furious, however, Meta Knight stopped him. "Okay. Let's fight the both of you."
"Hey, Meta Knight! Are you for real!" King Dedede shouted, displeased. "Waddle Dee will just wander around or something! He’ll get hurt, for sure!"
"No, he’s Kirby's chosen buddy. There's no mistake."
"Anything’s fine for you as long as you get to fight Kirby!"
Compared to the Dedede-Meta Knight team who were quickly, once again, quarreling, Kirby and Bandana Waddle Dee were perfectly in sync.
"Let’s fight, Kirby!" Bandana Waddle Dee shouted. "That is the rule of this tower!"
"Really? I understand ... "
It seemed that it was necessary to fight in order to get the party started ... Kirby finally grew motivated to battle. The two exchanged a knowing look and commenced their attack at once, simultaneously.
"Take this! ROLLING SOBAT!"
"Let’s do this! SPEAR THRUST!" King Dedede and Meta Knight were taken aback.
"Mmmrgh ... " King Dedede groaned, "your movements are pretty quick! Damned Waddle Dee, you’ve gotten so strong, before I even realized it!"
Meta Knight pulled out the treasured sword, Galaxia. "Then I won’t go easy on you!" He slashed at Kirby, who jumped up and quickly dived feet-first towards his head.
"WRESTLER PINPOINT KICK!" Meta Knight jumped, falling back and evading.
King Dedede shot Bandana Waddle Dee a sharp look in the meanwhile. 
"Do you want me to be your opponent, first of all?" he said. "Won’t be hard doing away with Kirby after that."
"Great King ... I’ll do this!" Bandana Waddle Dee thrust his spear with great vigor and skill. "Ei! MULTISPEAR ATTACK!"
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"Ho-ho! You're persistent, aren't cha?" King Dedede laughed. "But something like that’s no match for me! Now, HAMMER SWING!" The heavy hammer came pounding down. Bandana Waddle Dee quickly dodged. "Hmph, you won't avoid what comes next! GIANT DEDEDE SWING!" King Dedede swung his hammer around, and Bandana Waddle Dee held his spear over his head and spun it at high speeds. Then, the spear became a propeller, and Bandana Waddle Dee’s body floated gently.
"WADDLE COPTER!" It was a light aerial technique that could only be done by the nimble Bandana Waddle Dee!
"W ... what!?" King Dedede was astonished at this move. He breathed roughly as Bandana Waddle Dee waited for an opening as he flew over him, realizing that he was planning to counterattack when he came near.
"Damn Waddle Dee! That’s a cheeky move you’re using!" King Dedede's eyes held a trace of a sinister light. The Great King raised a hand high and a Gordo appeared atop it. It was a dangerous living creature outfitted with countless sharp spikes. "Here! TAKE THIS!" King Dedede nimbly threw the Gordo up with a shout before striking it with his hammer. It headed straight at Bandana Waddle Dee.
"Waaaaah!" He hurriedly avoided it.
"Here! Here! Here!" His attack did not cease. King Dedede continued firing off Gordos in rapid succession, one of which struck Bandana Waddle Dee's spear and flew off in an unexpected direction.
It hit Kirby's head dead-on as he was fighting Meta Knight.
"OWWWWW!" Kirby screamed aloud as the thorns stuck into him. Meta Knight did not let the opportunity escape.
"META MULTITHRUST!" Kirby's face was grazed by Galaxia’s sharp tip.
"Uwaah!" He held his face back.
There was no injury, however, his mask was torn to complete shreds.
"Ah ... the mask!" Kirby returned to being ability-less. The Wrestler Copy Ability could be used no longer. Meta Knight shifted his grip on his sword.
"It seems the match has been decided. Prepare yourself, Kirby!" He raised his sword. 
"KIRBY—!" Bandana Waddle Dee, flying overhead, raised his voice in a scream. He tried to help, but was unable to in time. The treasured sword Galaxia swiftly attacked Kirby, who was in a daze, unable to move.
In that moment of desperation, driven into a corner—a pitch black shadow fluttered down before him.
It was Shadow Kirby.
He wore a green hat and held a sword in his hand, the same as when he had first appeared, and caught Meta Knight’s strike.
" ... What!?" Meta Knight jumped back in surprise. Shadow Kirby turned around and looked at Kirby.
He was expressionless, as usual, however, he seemed to smile a little at him.
Shadow Kirby took off the hat he was wearing and handed it over. Kirby was speechless. 
"The hat? You’re going to give it to me?" Shadow Kirby did not respond and jumped up quickly.
The next moment, he was already gone. Kirby blinked several times. 
It was a momentary event, but as evidence it was not a dream, the green hat still remained in his hand.
Then, "Kirby, put on the hat! Quickly!" Bandana Waddle Dee shouted. "It's a gift from Shadow Kirby!"
Kirby hurriedly put on the green hat when he realized that. A sword appeared in his right hand and power surged through his body.
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"It's the Sword Copy Ability!" Kirby shouted energetically as he held it up. "Bring it on, Meta Knight!" Meta Knight yelled in a bloodthirsty voice before bringing down his sword.
Kirby’s own sword repelled the blow that held all of Meta Knight’s might, and the battle grew fierce. Every time the two swords met, sparks scattered, crackling.
"What's the hold up, Meta Knight!" King Dedede shouted. "Why don’tcha leave it to the King!" King Dedede raised his hammer and jumped at Kirby. Bandana Waddle Dee landed in front of him.
"Your opponent is me, Great King!"
"You lil’ pest. Get outta here, Waddle Dee!"
"Eeeeeeeei!" Bandana Waddle Dee didn't flinch. He thrust his spear out with all his might.
"Gwuaagh!? Why you little ... WADDLE DEE!" A smile came to King Dedede’s face as he adjusted his grip on his hammer. "You’ve gotten so strong, before I knew it!"
"I became brave while fighting alongside Kirby!" 
"I’ll give you credit for that, but you’re still a million years too early to go up against me! HRYAAH!" King Dedede swung his hammer.
Kirby, Bandana Waddle Dee, Meta Knight, King Dedede. It became a great battle of four.
"SWORD SPIN!"
"MOON DROP!"
"META SPIN SLASH!"
"DEDEDE HAMMER FLIP!"
Each of them gathered their strength and fired off their strongest moves in rapid succession. 
Amongst them, Meta Knight’s drive was the best by far. He launched a focused attack aiming only for Kirby.
As expected, Kirby felt like he was becoming overwhelmed, losing ground. The treasured sword Galaxia repelled his sword and sent it flying.
"Wawawawawa ...! " Meta Knight rushed in and attacked Kirby, who had now lost his weapon! Bandana Waddle Dee, who was fighting King Dedede, shouted out in a daze. 
"WATCH OUT, KIRBY!" He quickly flipped his spear and struck it into Meta Knight. "BACK THRUST!"
Meta Knight stopped moving for a moment due to the unexpected attack, and Kirby hurriedly picked up his sword and thrust it into him with all of his might.
"TAAAA—!"
Meta Knight, suddenly realizing what was happening, tried to defend against it. 
But he couldn't make it in time. Kirby's sword struck his mask dead-on, breaking it into two equal halves.
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keijiluvr · 3 years
Text
JUST SOME BOY PT. 2
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Pairings: Reader x Miya Atsumu
Warning/s: Angst, just angst.
Note: Some people requested a part 2 of just some boy and here it is! Some people suggested or requested that the reader and Atsumu get to meet again and that the reader gets in a relationship with someone such as Oikawa, Kageyama or Ushijima or Suna. I combined both requests and I hope that you guys like this! Thank you so much for the likes and reblogs. I appreaciate it so much!
Part 1
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“We don’t need memories.”
That quote alone remained in Miya Atsumu’s head for a very long time. Seeing that banner during their games, it would always dig deeper into his brain, making an impact to him. As if that banner alone haunts him throughout the matches he plays with his team. He carried that simple words throughout the years, trying to understand the exact meaning of it.
Do they mean it in a negative perspective? Does it mean to simply forget about the memories you shared so, so, so dearly with someone or memories that simply bring you joy? If so, Atsumu would find it so easy to do. Throughout the years, he can simply forget about the little things in his childhood. He can remember fighting with his twin brother but he couldn’t remember exactly what they were fighting about. He could remember the TV shows or the games he loved to play but now his mind could be filled with volleyball, volleyball, volleyball.
But somehow, deep within his mind, there would always be a part of it thinking about you.
Memories with you are so precious, a treasure that he can’t simply forget. The caress of skin, the laughter and giggles, the teasing, the flirting, the gentle brush of your lips against his. He wouldn’t dare forget about it.
Why did he mess it all up? Is it because of boredom?
He knew it wasn’t. He couldn’t come up to a reason as to why he did it but what he knows is that he regrets doing that to you. You didn’t deserve to go through that.
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“Miya Atsumu did it again!” He heard someone announce as he successfully did a powerful serve. A playful grin made its way across his lips, feeling excitement rush through his veins.
He loves this feeling. The feeling of being able to do the thing he loves and being able to do it successfully. It adds to his confidence.
He knows he’s playing so well right now.
Meanwhile, the fans went wild. They were cheering, some were even squealing as they tried to grab the setter’s attention. Some were even brave enough to try and flirt with the setter during events for the fans. He liked the attention but it wasn’t exactly coming from someone he wants.
It was a new season and every team was determined to win. However, some had to lose, some had to move forward and push themselves to do better, better, better. Today, it was a match against the Schweiden Adlers and both teams are determined to win today. All the players on the court motivating one another to do better, to give their all. It was evident as the game went on for so long. Everyone was doing their best and even the crowd can see it, moving to the edge of their seats in anticipation, just to see who would win this season.
“How was my serve, Omi?” He had a hand on his hip, feeling smug and ready to annoy the hell out of his teammate.
“Stop calling me that.”
Expecting that reply, he laughed. He kept annoying the wing spiker during the break they have. He would receive a glare or a disgusted look coming from Sakusa and the setter wouldn’t even flinch. He was definitely used to it, evident throughout the months that they’ve had a banter.
However, he could feel something tingling beneath his spine. His fingertips were going numb and his heart was hammering against his chest. In conclusion, he felt weird but have this sudden or rather strong urge to scan through the crowd.
It felt like someone was poking, nudging or forcing him to do so even though none of his teammates were telling him to do so. Normally, he wouldn’t dare too glance at the audience, knowing it can possibly distract him from the game but today felt different. Biting his lower lip as curiosity got the best of him, he looked towards the stands where people usually gather to watch.
He could see the fans on their side, cheering them on and throwing him smiles and waves, glad that he was finally sparing them a glance. Slowly, he set his eyes on the fans of the opposing team. With his eyebrows furrowed, he searched through the sea of people as if he was looking for someone important.
He didn’t know what he was doing but this wouldn’t hurt him, right? What can he possibly see from the audience? An old friend, maybe but they would definitely know to talk to him after the match. But his gut feeling told him to just do it, you wouldn’t get another chance to do so.
“We don’t need memories.” It echoed inside his head, drilling itself for him to possibly not forget about it. “We don’t need memories, Atsumu.”
How come he can’t forget about you?
He continues to think about it while staring at you, unbelievably in the stands to watch. Is he dreaming? Hallucinating, maybe? His breath got knocked off of his lungs at your presence, blinking rapidly to see if this was real or not. His chest was tightening and he could feel his palms being clammy as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Is that really you?
“Y/N?” He whispered, confused but he’s really, really, really glad that you’re here.
Memories with you flashed through his eyes. That one blanket you loved so dearly, that movie that you couldn’t stop watching over and over again, the beauty he gets to witness throughout the day when he doesn’t have to go to practice. His lips on yours, the pads of his fingers on your skin, his eyes that would always be focusing on you.
He would never dare forget about you.
As if you could sense someone looking at you, you turned to match their stare but got surprised at the attention you’re receiving from the setter. You shot him a questioning look but gave a small smile, trying to be nice.
He misses you. He misses you so much and up to this day, he regrets what he did to you.
“Miya, focus.” He heard his teammate say but he couldn’t care less. What mattered to him is you in the crowd, watching him and possibly still supporting him up to this day.
However, these thoughts left his mind as he heard you cheering for the opposing team. Did he hear that correctly?
Nah, maybe I’m imagining things. He thought, tilting his head to the side a little bit to show his confusion and hesitance on the thought.
No, you really were cheering for the Adlers. It was evident as he really was facing the fans of the opposing team, seeing you standing there to cheer along with the others, saying “Go, go, Adlers.”
Is this real?
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“Atsumu-san, are you okay?” Hinata asked as he approached the setter during the break. They were on their third set and everyone can see how Miya Atsumu suddenly wasn’t playing well throughout the match.
He forced a tight lipped smile on his face, “Of course, Shoyo-kun. No need to worry ‘bout me.” He waved his hand off, dismissing the topic.
In all honesty, he knew he's off of his game. His serves were not on point anymore, sometimes hitting out of bounds and his sets weren't near as perfect.
It all went downhill when he saw you in the stands. He knows he shouldn’t be blaming you, you’re here to watch just like everybody else. The problem is him, he knows he's distracted. You're all he could think about, occupying his mind. It was messing him up and confusing him as he began overthinking the possible reasons as to why you’re here, why you’re cheering for the opposing team.
He bit his lower lip, shaking his head to get him to focus, focus, focus.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth. For a while, this is what he would be doing. Breathe in and out, in and out.
He knows that it wouldn’t make him completely forget about your presence, watching this match but it definitely helped him focus a little bit more in the match.
“I’m so proud of you, Atsumu.” He can remember you saying those words to him everytime, whether it be winning or losing. You always knew the right words to say to him.
For now, he’s on his own. He wouldn’t witness you saying those words to him after this game. He doesn’t even have you here supporting him and cheering him on but you’re watching the match. That’s enough for him to keep moving forward and tell himself to focus and play well.
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The crowd went wild, the whole arena filled with cheers or screams. Everyone did their best, it was evident as some players sat on the court, clearly exhausted and worn out. Every single player worked hard to get to where they are right now and no one felt disappointed at the match today.
The Schweiden Adlers came out as the winner of this season and everyone thinks that they deserve it. Even though both teams played really well, one is bound to come out as the winner and the Schweiden Adlers did their best to claim that title.
When it was time to spend some time interacting with the fans and thanking them for their support, Atsumu was absent.
In that moment, everything didn’t matter to him. Losing the match didn’t matter to him. HIs mind is only filled with you and he was determined to try and talk to you today. It has to be today or he might lose you again and it will be his fault all over again for not chasing after you.
Looking around the arena, he hoped that he hasn’t missed his chance. “Atsumu-san, great game!” He could hear people talking to him, congratulating him and reporters trying to catch a minute or two with him to hear his insights about the game.
He couldn’t help but leave the crowd, his feet moving to the exit and possibly start looking for you after he cleans up in the locker room. But it didn’t go as planned and he was glad it didn’t. It was better to meet and talk to you right now than waste more minutes that would end up not finding you.
"Y/N." He said in awe as he breathed out. Relief washing over his face as he saw you near the corner, avoiding the crowd.
Without wasting a minute, he jog up to where you were standing. A genuine smile present on his face as he finally caught up to you. “Y/N, fancy seeing you here.” He wanted to lighten up the mood, to possibly talk to you and end it on a positive note considering the fact that  things didn’t end well the last time both of you saw each other.
"Miya-san?" Your eyebrows shot up, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him.
It would be a lie if he said it didn’t hurt him a little when he didn’t hear you call him by his first name. He knew he lost the privilege to hear that from you, especially the nickname you always use to call him by. But he was still hoping, hoping that there could be a little spark between both of you because he still, still, still loves you.
However in your perspective, you had wished so desperately to the higher being above to not let you cross paths with him. Catching him staring at you mid-game definitely caught you off guard. You didn’t expect to at least get noticed by him.
You rushed to the place where you know the crowd wouldn’t gather, hoping that he doesn’t come to see you, to talk to you. You still couldn’t forgive him after what he did.
Yet, he’s here, acting as if nothing bad happened between both of you. He’s pretending that he didn’t break you, that he didn’t make you lose your trust to him and to others, that he didn’t hurt you. His actions couldn’t be forgiven. If he, at least, felt that the love he feels for you is fading away, he could’ve talked to you about it first. He should’ve ended things instead of going after another person when he’s still in a relationship.
You loved him so much, you loved him so, so, so, dearly. You opened yourself up to him, gave your complete trust, had so many intimate moments with him and this is the outcome? Life really must be so cruel to you.
Nonetheless, you’re still proud of his achievements up ‘till now.
“How are you?”
“I’ve been fine. What about you? Is there a reason why you wanted to talk right now?” You’re tired, letting out a sigh. “It’s been a year, Miya-san and I think it’s best if we just forget about each other.”
Memories. We don’t need memories. How you wish you could forget about everything about him, the memories that you shared with him.
“No, wait,” He began, desperate enough to let you stay for a bit longer. He needs to talk to you but he doesn’t know where to begin.
“Y/N, I really regret about what I did to you. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I messed everything up. You’ll always be the one for me, you’re the only one who makes me happy.”
You let out a scoff, not believing a word that comes out of his mouth. “Miya-san, please. I’m assuming that you ended things with her and now that you can’t find anyone to hook up with, you come running back to me.”
“That’s not true-”
“If it isn’t, then why haven’t you contacted me all those months ago? We haven’t seen or even talked to each other for a year.”
He stayed silent, not knowing how to answer that question.
He thought that you’re mad at him, that you wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. But he could’ve still tried, he could’ve made an effort when he realized that you’re the only one for him.
“I loved you so much, Atsumu. So, so, much. Was I not enough? Did I do something wrong for you to do that to me? Do you have any idea how much it hurt to witness you saying that someone else makes you happy, that I wasn’t enough to make you happy? Do you know how it pained me to hear that coming from you? Thinking that wow, I don’t make him happy anymore.”
“You couldn’t even start with an apology. I’m sorry but please, don’t talk to me anymore.” With that, you turned around to walk away from him.
He was about to chase after you, to beg for forgiveness and possibly try to fix things. He can’t lose you like this, he just can’t. But as he took a step forward towards your direction, he stayed still.
He remained frozen on the spot, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance but also confusion.  
“Ready to go, baby?” The setter from the opposing team asked, approaching you with his bag slung over his shoulders.
“Hey, yeah. You did so well today, Tobio. I’m so proud of you.” You said, holding your hand out for him to take which he gladly did.
“We don’t need memories.” Kita said, “It means we don’t have to dwell on the past, we should focus on the present and our future.”
“I’m so proud of you, Atsumu.” It echoed through his head, making him dizzy. “I love you.”
For now, he has to disagree. He needs those memories. He needs to remember what it felt like to be with you, to hold you so close to him and to hear you utter those words to him. He shouldn’t be dwelling on the past but he finds it hard to move on. With this, he will continue to live his life filled with regret.
As he watches you walk away from him accompanied by another man, he couldn’t help but wish that you were with him instead.
END.
taglist: @aonenthusiast​
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elucien · 3 years
Text
A VICTOR IS NOT A FISHERMAN
All I can do is snort; Finnick Odair is somewhat of a legend to Four, but more a joke to the two of us. He’d won his games at fourteen, youngest ever; and combined with his golden looks, he instantly became a Capitol favorite. But it doesn’t take away from how he’d been one of us before. A fisherman. I’d seen him at the docks when I’d been a young girl clinging behind my father, and more than a few times at that. But we’d never spoken. Once he won his games, he stopped showing up to the docks at all.
The fisherman called him The Capitol’s Whore. Said he went through multiple Capitol citizens in his trips there, not to mention that we’d seen him before showing visitors around Four, with most often giving him the smile that I’ve seen only reserved for lovers. I didn’t know him, so I never chimed in. It didn’t feel fair to me, passing judgement on someone I hadn’t spoken to before, but I understood the sense of betrayal. The fishermen stick together; we do not lie to one another, nor turn our backs on our people, or anything of the sort. We are all one. And when he’d come back from the arena… well, he seemed to have forgotten he was a fisherman. The added recent love for The Capitol only worsened the blow.
chapter one of an enemies to lovers odesta fic, focusing on annie’s reaping and the events that follow. annie is a daughter of four, a recently orphaned fisher that belongs to the lower class of the district. finnick is a victor, in a social class untouched by the rest of four, and what the district views as a class traitor. 
REAPING DAY.
I wake to the sun hanging midway above the sky, to the soft caws of the gulls that often frequent this portion of the beach. I don’t have neighbors, either, save for the stubborn pesks; the houses scattered amongst the sand dunes are now abandoned, and the old wharf to the north is only frequented by the elderly, who more often than not squat in the decrypt ruins of ancient houses and partake in drug consumption.
The peacekeepers often look the other way; I don’t, because they’re the ones I sell my fish to. I don’t know how they have money after spending their coins on drugs, but for me, I’ve learned not to question my source of income or who it comes from. Money is money, and it’s what’ll fill an empty stomach and repair shattered windows after the mid-summer storms. The District is not merciful, and I’ve long learned not to rely on the charity of the wealthier folk. Fate and survival,  it seems, are entirely in my hands.
I hear the scuttling of crabs on the roof that hangs above my head and then knocking on my door, loud and persistent, and I’d be content enough to turn and ignore it if I didn’t know who it belonged to.
“Annie Cresta, if you don’t open up this damned door, I swear to god,” starts Sofia Marinus, “I’ll break it down myself and leave you defenseless against the winter storms.”
Her words are laced with enough irritation that I know to take her seriously; a threat from a Marinus, particularly Sofia, is never idle. Her family’s a large one, with seven children and a father that’s famed for a restaurant that only caters to the wealthy, but known mostly for their mob-like mentality. We don’t have gangs in Four, but the Marinus family is probably the closest thing we have to organized crime. I even remember Sofia being pushed once as a child and going home with torn knees. The next day, the culprit showed up to school in crutches. Courtesy of her brothers, of course, but we knew better than to voice our thoughts.
“Annie, I swear,” chimes Sofia again, this time knocking on a window that offers a glimpse into a living room that’s seemingly coated in dust. 
I don’t bother answering; the sound of my steps traveling through the well-worn and rather small hovel is enough for her to know that I’m awake and letting her in. I swing the door open and she’s there in seconds, as if materializing; her wideset obsidian eyes are bright as she takes me in, and I vaguely note that her thick black hair is tied up neatly with a ribbon that I haven’t seen before.
“I thought I’d check in on you today,” says Sofia rather sweetly before thrusting a crinkled brown bag in my direction. “These are cookies, by the way. The bakery still frosts them the way you told them to, all those years ago.”
I take the bag and step aside, ignoring the warmth that her mere presence evokes. The two of us are as familiar with one another as one possibly can be; it merely took one look at each other in the first grade to know that we’d found our best friend. Despite the difference in class, Sofia often seems to enjoy spending her time with me, and particularly when I have business in The Trench. There’s perhaps nothing more enjoyable to her than the bartering that takes place in the broken down buildings that claim the southern wharf, even; and she likes to sell my own catches for herself.
“You’re up early,” I say after peering at the freshly frosted confectionaries. “What’s the reason?”
She pauses dusting off one of the couches to shrug. “Gabi woke me up; said that needed someone to go with her to the tailor, and that she’d rather it be me than any of our brothers. Bribed me with cookies too.”
I hold up the bag now before snorting. “And here I am, thinking you brought me these out of the kindness in your heart.”
The cookies do look good, though: and I remember the day that I’d spent in the bakery with the baker’s son and daughter, poring over the cookies and frosting. I’d had an eye for color when I was younger, and had spent my days cataloguing and breathing and living it. It had been my nature to notice the beauty in the most unexpected things, but that had faded when my father had died mere months ago. Never mind that I still had spare money lying around that I could use to get paint from The Trench; his absence had left a hole in my chest so large that I couldn’t do anything but ignore it. 
And doing so required whatever energy I had on most days.
“Think we’ll see Finnick Odair?” asks Sofia while lounging on her back on the couch. She holds a book in her hands and leafs through it, as if actually curious about whatever words were inked into it. “We’ll be closest to the front now that we’re eighteen. Maybe he’ll even look at us.”
“We’ve seen him at The Trench, Sofia,” I remind her as I pad towards the kitchen, in need of both water and something that isn’t sweet for breakfast. A luxury such as the cookies she’d given me are for after the reaping, for our celebration in escaping all the reapings we’d attended. Perhaps I’d even drag her out to The Trench for the rowdy parties they threw. Or maybe one of the pubs that were near the tip of the fisherman’s village, all the way on the outskirts of the main city of the Four. “He spoke to you before, too. Remember? He asked you to step to the side.”
I can hear her howling with laughter from across the wall. “It wasn’t the kindest proposal, but it was one nonetheless.”
All I can do is snort; Finnick Odair is somewhat of a legend to Four, but more a joke to the two of us. He’d won his games at fourteen, youngest ever; and combined with his golden looks, he instantly became a Capitol favorite. But it doesn’t take away from how he’d been one of us before. A fisherman. I’d seen him at the docks when I’d been a young girl clinging behind my father, and more than a few times at that. But we’d never spoken. Once he won his games, he stopped showing up to the docks at all.
The fisherman called him The Capitol’s Whore. Said he went through multiple Capitol citizens in his trips there, not to mention that we’d seen him before showing visitors around Four, with most often giving him the smile that I’ve seen only reserved for lovers. I didn’t know him, so I never chimed in. It didn’t feel fair to me, passing judgement on someone I hadn’t spoken to before, but I understood the sense of betrayal. The fishermen stick together; we do not lie to one another, nor turn our backs on our people, or anything of the sort. We are all one. And when he’d come back from the arena… well, he seemed to have forgotten he was a fisherman. The added recent love for The Capitol only worsened the blow.
“When you marry him, make sure you remember me, yeah? Coins aren’t getting hard to come by,” I call out before nudging my way back into the kitchen, balancing a few plates in my hands. There’s one seastar shaped cookie, frosted pink and gold and white, along with biscuits that are slightly stale and tea. Luxuries like these are saved for reaping day; they allow you a sort of comfort when you need it, a sense of wealth that you don’t have. And there’s nothing we enjoy here at Four more than grasping at straws.
I set the plates atop the dusty table in front of the couch before snapping the cookie in half and offering Sofia her piece. “Happy Reaping Day.”
Her answering smile is brighter than the dawn. “And may the odds be ever in your favor.”
We enter the district square fairly late, but somehow manage to escape a slap on the back of our hands. The parents stand crowded off to the sides of the clearing, but there aren’t many. Life in the districts is cruel and cold, but here, it only seems to show in the deaths of our parents, who are often still too young and show no signs of illness. They simply seem to pass in the blink of an eye, unexpectedly, and from reasons unknown. A new orphan is a common thing, and they quickly tend to band together to find a way of surviving. There are often family houses left abandoned in the sand dunes due to orphans leaving.
“Stop scowling,” whispers Sofia, nudging me in my side.
But all I can think of is how there had been three before, and now there are two. We’d lost Ivan at fifteen, and he’d been brilliant; with cropped obsidian hair and hazel eyes, he’d been a looker, even when young. He’d gravitated towards Sofia and I quickly, and we’d become a unit, seamlessly and easily. I’d had my first kiss with him too, on the sands in front of my dune home while the sun had left the beach aglow in soft hues of pink and magenta. Perhaps I would’ve grown to love him, too, if he hadn’t been reaped; and then slaughtered on TV by the Careers, simply for sport. To spice things up for The Capitol.
He’d promised us he’d make it back.
The only difference was that he made it back in a box. In pieces.
And Sofia and I had lost parts of ourselves that we knew could never be recovered.
“I know what you’re thinking of,” she hisses, and her grip tightens on my hand. “We’ll make it past the reaping, Cresta. We’ll go home and finish those cookies to celebrate, and drink some cider too. Then we’ll get more cookies and go to a party at The Trench. You hear me?”
I’m too lost in the stragglers that push past us, in the noise of the weeping of the terrified younger children and the mumbling of the older teenagers who simply wanted this to be over. 
I’m terrified, and for the first reaping in my life, I find myself numb.
“Come on, Annie,” repeats Sofia somewhat worriedly.
And so I’m pulled forward to the front, where the other eighteen year olds stand, and true to her words, we find Finnick Odair on the stage above us. It’s perhaps the only thing that rouses me from my fears, and I focus on the cream linen shirt that’s tucked into beige pants. Both are utterly simple but made of the most exquisite fabric, and I know without a doubt that one garment could leave me well fed for months, if not a year. Clothes like that are only from The Capitol.
“You were right,” I whisper back as we finally stand in a row, arms linked together. “He’s right in front of us.”
“My husband,” replies Sofia dreamily.
She’s joking, of course, and it’s the mere thought of either of us finding him attractive that has us both giggling, the noise so at odds with our surroundings and circumstances. 
He turns to us then, with eyes that are gleaming even from where he stands, and I know then that the rumors had never exaggerated his looks. But instead of butterflies, I merely feel anger stirring within my veins, the emotion resurfacing after months of its absence.
Finnick Odair is a traitor. The Capitol Whore. He’d turned his back on the Fishermen for the shiny possessions one could get in The Capitol and lovers, and he’d never turned back. Nevermind that he had likely fished alongside us, and perhaps starved when we all had; he’d taken his first opportunity out and ignored all of us. It makes me want to wrap my fingers around his throat.
For a moment, we lock eyes and remain staring at one another until I see the escort and mayor leave the Justice Building. The other Victors are already seated, and I notice that while Triton Calpernius is deceased, his empty seat is still present. As if The Capitol is trying to remind us that no one is more powerful than them. I notice the look that Finnick gives it when he turns; almost as if he still can’t believe what had happened last year. Calpernius might’ve even been his mentor. If I’d been capable of feeling anything for the traitor, it would be sorrow and a sense of kinship. 
But it is reaping day, and every single person is out for themselves today.
Including the fisherman.
REAPING
I don’t pay attention for the beginning half of the reaping; it’s the usual customary speech, with our Mayor thanking The Capitol for their mercy, and telling us about how the Dark Days were a stain in our history. And perhaps they were a stain, but only because we didn’t succeed in overthrowing The Capitol. I’ve never voiced a thought like that, of course, but a life like this for an entire nation is absurd. 
Sofia nudges me the second Amazon Blackfrost steps onto the stage, and we both have to reign in our laughter. It doesn’t stop the giggle that comes from me, which earns both a look from Finnick Odair and the parents who stand to our far left, but I don’t mind it. A few more hours and we’ll hopefully be free from this Hell; and I’ll no longer have to worry about nightmares that take place in exotic and terrifying arenas, and that always end with my certain death.
“She really went with the mermaid theme this year,” whispers Sofia as Amazon teeters forward, attempting to step towards the mic in her ridiculously high platform heels. 
I giggle again. “It’s better than the year she went with the pirate costume. Remember how horrible it looked?”
“It almost showed her-”
Amazon taps her mic twice, effectively silencing Sofia and anyone else in the square that wished to talk about how ridiculous her outfit looked. From the look on Finnick Odair’s face, it’s clear that he’d been watching me and Sofia exchange comments. But rather than take pride in having captured his attention, I simply feel that simmering anger yet again.
“Welcome, welcome,” starts Amazon, her smile freakishly large and absolutely manufactured. “Welcome to the 70th annual Hunger Games.”
I turn to Sofia yet again, but this time I catch her staring at where the boys our age stand. Ivan usually stood at the far right, at the very edge, so that we’d be able to see him and mouth what we were saying. And although we’ve stopped mentioning his name at reapings, we look at that very spot each year, as if he’ll materialize and give us that smile that he was known for.
“Ladies first,” declares Amazon, and we all straighten immediately.
It takes her another minute to teeter over to the bowl, but the second she does, she dips her hand and pulls at the first slip that surfaces in her hand. She wobbles her way over back to the microphone before smoothing the cream colored slip in her hand and clearing her throat.
“Andromeda Cresta.”
I still.
Sofia shrieks and immediately wraps herself around me.
The other girls clear away immediately, giving us a wide birth.
Some of the parents look at me with stark, bottomless pain in their eyes, and I remember that some of them knew my parents. There are the fishermen too, who dip their chins in respect and mourning. 
“Andromeda Cresta,” repeats Amazon, waving a hand excitedly. “Don’t be shy now, come on up! This is your time for glory.”
I tear my gaze away from the parents and turn to Sofia with such calmness that I don’t recognize myself. I have to pry her fingers away from my arm, and I see her panicked gaze alternating between where I stand and where Ivan used to stand. And I know then that I’ll become another story that parents tell their children about their friends or people they knew who lost their lives to the arena.
The thought makes me want to roar, to scream and to fight for my life, but I know that the Games don’t begin when the gong goes off in the arena; they begin the second your name is called out, when the cameras turn to you. And it’s why I’m gentle when I pry myself away from Sofia. A kiss is pressed atop her forehead before I say a few more parting words.
“We’ll talk in the justice building,” I cry as the peacekeepers make towards me, towering over the crowds in their polished white shells. “We’ll talk then, Sofia. Don’t… don’t worry.”
And I don’t know what else to say when the peacekeepers lead me away, taking me to the stage.
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lettrespromises · 3 years
Text
#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification. ──➤ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋!
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─➤ Kuroo Tetsurou sent you a letter, would you like to read it? #CC of the letter directed to : @bbthots-underground​
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──➤ #𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut. ─➤ #𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 : Caught in a snowbound, Kuroo has to work from home. But your sinful envies don’t really match with his working tendencies. Will you be able to keep it quiet for him? Or will you disobey and get punished? It’s entirely up to you. ➤ #𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Minors please do not interact, +18. Vaginal sex, penetration, degradation, binding. 
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« Of course, of course… I understand, mhm. The weather is not on our side, this year’s winter is even more cruel than last year’s. Mhm, for sure, for sure… » Without stating the obvious, this pseudo speech, intercut with several hums leaving the frontiers of his lips, belonged to a man who had to work from home. The blame of such a sudden change was the blowing white storm outside and its ceaseless waves of snow coming to crash down on the ground, the roofs, everywhere. The wind which accompanied the blizzard in this symphony to the ode of the muses of the cold weather seemed to be whistling along to the series of affirmations which continued to pour from his lips like a cascade that couldn’t reach its end.
It was a meaningless consecution of affirmative sentences, perhaps sentences that he didn’t even mean in the first place, but oh well, it was what he would call ‘corporate language’, talk to please the person on the other end of the phone and make them hear what they want to hear.
The discussion, which gravitated around the next selling strategy for the upcoming volleyball competition, wasn’t bound to come to an end anytime soon. Meaning that Kuroo had to more or less listen and give half-interested hums of acknowledgement for a few more minutes. He took a seat on the leather chair throning along with his acacia desk in the middle of the room, his gaze fell on the constant flickering of the ambers in the fireplace to seek a distraction from this deafening discussion.
But there he was, saved by the salute of the echoes of your knocks on the door. You knew perfectly well he was on the phone, being able to hear his hums from the other side of the door, but it’s not as if it was going to stop you. And you stepped into the arena that was his office, dressed in the newest set of scarlet lingerie Kuroo had gotten you (after having ripped to pieces the last set no longer than two days ago.) It was flawless, and the melted perfectly with the shapes of your body. But the way the transparency over the fabric which ‘covered’ your breasts, leaving his imagination run to the darkest corners of his mind, was already stimulating his salivary glands. And he knew, from the first glance on your figure and the way you were leaning against the shut door, that he was going to make a mess out of you… And make that new set of lingerie witness the same fatalist fate as the martyr before. Kuroo didn’t say a word, but the way his fingers pointed at his lap were enough indication for you to understand where you were going to be sitting, after all, you had deemed it as your throne. « Of course, I think it’s the best strategy to valorize the merch. » words fell effortlessly from his mouth, as if he became unfazed by the not so foreign presence on his lap. Or so you thought. « Maybe we could think about asking the MSBY team for some interviews, mhm? » His free hand was busy messily undoing the knot of his tie, far too tight for his liking, before setting his phone in a hold between his ear and his shoulders.
This newfound position gave him the opportunity to undo his belt, the sound of the metal of clicking in unison, and it gave you a hint as where he was going already. You were bound to drag his underwear down, but not before teasing the edge of said underwear with your fingertips (a deed which was saluted with an ill-intentioned glare on his end). « Hold on a second, I’ll be quick. », what a stark comparison between the numbness of his words and the growing bulge obtaining more and more the privilege of omnipotency in the constricting fabric of his boxers.
Kuroo gave a second glance at the phone on his desk, double-checking it was far enough to be able to pronounce the following words without being caught by his correspondent on the other end of the phone call, « All dolled up for me, kitten? How nice of you… » a metaphorical green elixir of mischief dripped down from his words whilst his fingertips found salute on your clothed core, his fingertips moving in appreciation at the sensation of wetness. « Here’s what we’re going to do, kitten, you’re going to ride my cock like the good girl you are but you have stay quiet, mhm? Good girls don’t want to be punished, do they? » Such a rhetorical question, but you nodded nonetheless, eager to feel full once more by the intoxicating sensation of his girth inside you. You were willing to do anything, give up on your boundaries, bend the holy rules of decency if it meant you could reach nirvana. And your ascension began as you allowed yourself to sink on his length, making a martyr out of your lower lip due to the pressure of your pearly whites. You needed to stay quiet, you needed to be a good girl for him.
Kuroo almost felt a hint of guilt at the palette of crimson shades now coloring your lower lip, but it was a sight to breathtaking to feel anything but pure ecstasy. « Tet— Mmphf! » You plea was cut to a halt by the sudden presence of his palm over mouth mouth, were you going to break his rules so quickly? « What did I say about being a good girl? Don’t make me punish you, I know you’re better than that, kitten. » Oh, the disappointed tone in his voice, a forecast of the sinful nature of events which were bound to happen if you kept playing with fire.
And whilst Kuroo was back on the call, having apologized for a pseudo issue caused by who-knows-what, you were hesitatingly rotating your hips, letting the tip of his length kiss your velvety walls. They were shy, almost experimental rotations. But although they were agonizingly slow, you could already feel the sick sensations of knots forming themselves in your lower stomach. Your palms were laid flat on his broad shoulder, your glance solely focused on the way his cock was filling you up, gracing your insides with how the prominent veins were dancing against your walls.
Fuck, was it hard to keep your composure and not give in to the subtle calls of the muses of passion. But he was on a call, the same hums and other signs of agreement leaving his lips whilst his oculars were fixed on you, an ill-intentioned grin throning amongst his facial features as a sign of a silent victory. You were such a good girl for him. He tapped his fingertips against your luscious thighs caging him in a hole he’d dream of spending his entire life in, silently telling you to begin a more rushed rhythm. But before you could start, his index found its way against his lips, another wordless way to demand absolute silence on your end. He knew it was pure torture, that’s why he was liking it so much.
And so you obliged, and the vertical motions on his girth became natural until reaching a steady rhythm which wouldn’t expose you to the light of danger. Or so you thought. Your own betrayal manifested itself when he shifted his position in his leather chair, causing the tip of his length to hit against the roof of your core, a terribly sensitive area which held all the nerves which burned under the sudden touch. A dragged moan left your lips before you could even realize it, your body began acting on its own before your mind did, and that’s precisely when you knew you had both lost yourself and he had lost patience.
You could hear a hushed « Kuroo-san, what was that? Is everything okay? » from the other side of the phone, and the silence invading the air was the worst response Kuroo could ever possibly come up with. « I’ll call you back. » It was short, dry even, and the way his voice had dropped a few octaves was the last sign announcing your own end. He pressed the red button on the screen, thus cutting an end to the call. A sigh of pure exasperation had been set free from his lips, and the silence had become agonizing, the stare he was giving you paralyzed your every move, you could only muster enough strength to swallow thickly.
« I’m so— » You were cut off as soon as the sound of your voice drowned in his eardrums. « Did I give you permission to speak? » You nodded negatively. « Do you know just how spoiled you are? I let you ride on my cock because you can’t seem to get enough of it, mhm? I only ask for one thing in return and you can’t do it properly? Get off. Get off of my cock. Now. »
You did as told, respecting the oh so dear rules of performative language, and found yourself standing before him with your knees almost giving in at the severe look plastered upon his facial expression. You opened your mouth to let out another apology, but your poor attempt had been cut short as he crashed his lips onto yours so roughly he was convinced you had awakened the side of him he always tried to keep tamed.
He had enough pity for you to break the kiss once your lungs began to give up due to the lack of oxygen. « Turn around. » You did as told, awaiting for your fate. « Your arms on your back. » He spat out another order, the coldness of his tone was enough to make a trail of chills run down your spine but you obliged nonetheless. « Tetsu— » Once again, cut off. « Did I give you permission to talk? » He asked, although he already knew the answer to his own question, to which you shook your head. « I thought so too. »
The knot of his tie came out easily, having already undone it a bit earlier on, it dangled from his fingers and his free hand pressed your back against the desk, a move which earned a mewl out of you. Then, his hands travelled around your wrists, leaving a soft caress on your palm before binding his tie around your wrists in a tight hold which severely contrasted with the sweet nature of his previous gesture. You winced in response, furrowing your brows together while he was spreading out your legs. « From now on, I don’t want to hear anything. You can moan as much as you want, I don’t give a damn. Got that, kitten? » And although Kuroo always used this nickname in such a sweet way, this time it had been tarnished by a sinful tone. « Y-Yes, sir. » You choked out, a watery veil covering your oculars in anticipation.
You heard nothing but the sound of his suit pants falling to his ankles, the click of the metal of his belt echoing against the floor, followed by the sound of yet another gulp being swallowed down your throat with difficulty. His fingertips found your core, and they were met with the wetness coating the area. Were you worth cherishing? Certainly not. And yet, he took it upon his kind heart to flick your sweet bundle of nerves, alternating between circular and pinching motions to stimulate you just enough to bring you on the verge of your apex. And just when your moans followed the crescendo of your sensations, he ceased all kinds of motions with a wicked grin on his face.
You couldn’t help but whine in frustration at the sudden lack of touch, your apex hitting a harsh stop so suddenly. « What was that? You’re complaining? » Kuroo half asked, taking a fistful of your hair to orientate your head towards him. « S-Sir, no… I just need, I need… Fuck, sir, I-I need… » Your words were mere hopes against him, your mouth was mouthing unintelligible sounds which found no purpose. « You don’t even know what you’re begging for, how fucking pathetic. » He released the hold on your hair, letting your head fall against the wooden surface of his desk while a string of whimpers left your lips.
« Ah! Please, sir, p-please, just fuck me… » You pleaded, hoping that you’d bent his heart somehow. But you were greeted with a harsh slap right on your derrière in retaliation, « Did I give you permission to speak? You’re fucking lacking politeness, what a slut you are. »
And it was the last vocal warning before he slammed his hips against yours, the latter caused him to dig his pearly whites into his lower lip to prevent any unwanted groan from leaving his mouth at the sensation of your walls wrapping around his cock so tightly. ‘So fucking tight’, he thought, knowing your cunt was made for him and him only. He had to still himself for a few seconds, adjusting to the iron grip which could’ve made him come undone at this very instant, you were too eager for your own good. And yet, you wanted to beg for him to move, do something, but you had to stay silent.
« You. Just. Can’t. Stay. Fucking. Silent. » Each word was accentuated by a slam of hips, followed by the sound of his testicles slapping against your skin. How you wished to bring your fist to your mouth, to bite your poor martyr of a hand at the violence of his thrusts which seemed to increase each time he moved. Pearls of salt gathered at the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall at any given second as Kuroo’s thrusts grew more rapid and more precise, kissing effortlessly the myriad of nerves adorning the roof of your core.
The moans fell from your lips like a cascade which couldn’t reach its own end, and so the tears fell. Kuroo, on the other one hand, rolled his head back in ecstasy while maintaining an iron grip on your tied wrists, thus guarantying you to have scarlet marks.
You knew you couldn’t come undone just yet, at least not when Kuroo was feeling like this, but he was close to his own end judging by the ferocity of his thrusts making a martyr out of your poor derrière which was bound to be colored by a palette of crimson shades as well. The inferno had been set free from its chains in Kuroo’s lower stomach, the blood rushing down to his girth in anticipation for the grand finale. « Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Look at what you— Ah! Fuck, look at what you do to me, squeezing my cock so hard like the f-fucking slut you are. » Truthfully, Kuroo needed to gather all of his strength to prevent any loose grunt from leaving his lips at the same time as his curses.
But he was only a mere man facing his temptations. « C-Cum with me, now! » He spat the words in pure lustful frenzy, losing himself in his own thrust while you could only resume to moan your pleasure away. Your were digging your fingernails in your own palms behind your back, drawing crescents into your flesh in order to distract yourself from the fact you were bound to come undone at any given moment.
Your mind was spiraling into a state of blankness, your body falling numb as you witnessed the metaphorical gates of heaven opening themselves before your sins. A hot trail of liquid painted your blank canvas with stains of sins and passion, and in return, the elixir of your own pleasure leaked down the sides of his cock while he was still thrusting his cum into you, all in a cacophony of sounds of pleasure.
Then the movements ceased, leaving room for more silence and choked breath. A trail of drool leaked from your mouth onto his desk, Kuroo stared at the ceiling while trying to re-gain the control of his breathing. The harsh grip of his hands around your wrists loosened up a bit, until they turned into mere caresses. Such a contrast with his previous deeds.
Kuroo was welcomed with a dragged whimper when he pulled out, the sudden feeling of vacuity replacing in the least pleasing way possible the sensation of his cock. And while you were about to fall down on the floor, your knees shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm, Kuroo’s grave voice shook you away from your thoughts. « Don’t move. I’m going to get the silk ropes, I’m done not with you yet. »
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mfb-better-fury · 3 years
Text
Episode 3
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Day
? Leone VS Storm Aquario continued
As the blinding light begins to fade, Hikaru and the others hesitantly uncover their eyes. The stadium is wrecked though both beys are still spinning; Infinite Assault has been canceled out. Hikaru’s gaze however is above the stadium, her eyes wide. From within the waters of Aquario’s spirit appears a mermaid of blues and purples, which Hikaru realizes looks like her mother.
As the others watch the spectacle in amazement, Kenta calls attention to Aquario as it runs recklessly around the destroyed stadium. A quick scan from Madoka brings the discovery that just like Leone, Aquario has suddenly changed forms.
Hikaru’s attention is torn away from the spirit as she takes note of her bey running wild. She pushes for control, trying to tell Aquario to settle down to no avail. Kyoya realizes there is no way for her to crash Aquario to a halt like he’d done with Leone the day before, and the destruction is quickly starting to grow. Noting Hikaru’s growing panic, he quickly calls for Lion Gale Force Wall. Aquario is swept up in the winds along with all the debris it had created. Hikaru watches Aquario’s new spirit swirl along the edges of the twister as if swimming up it, then launches into the sky along with the bey itself.
From the sideline, Gingka shouts to Hikaru that this is her bey and her rules, and she can make it come to its senses if she reaches out to it. Hikaru doesn’t understand, too scared to think straight. The crushing cold has begun to grab at her and it’s getting hard for her to stay on her feet.
Ryo now calls out to her, saying that her and Aquario’s spirits are intertwined. What she wishes for most of all, Aquario will respond to no matter what. He believes in her strength and the others voice their agreements. Teary-eyed, Hikaru raises her head to stare up into the sky where Aquario has not yet come down from. She then shuts her eyes, grits her teeth, and thinks: “All I want is for this to be over. That’s enough, Aquario. It’s enough!”
Out loud, she screams Aquario’s name. A few seconds later the bey glints off the sun as it begins its descent, hurtling towards Leone and ripping through its tornado. There is a huge explosion that knocks both Hikaru and Kyoya back. When the smoke clears, both beys are still upright, but Aquario swerves on its own for just a few moments more before coming to a stop to spin in place.
The others are rushing down to reach their friends; Kyoya is struggling to sit up while Hikaru is too stunned by the events to try the same. She can only roll onto her back and stare at the sky, trying to catch her breath. Even as she lies there she watches Aquario’s new spirit come into her line of sight, now calm and slow, and she can’t help but ask herself silently what in the world is going on.
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Tobio and the boy arrive at a tea shop. At this point, the boy is having to lean on Tobio for support due to the exhaustion and injuries he obtained while being chased by Johannes. Tobio calls to Ryutaro at the counter to get the first aid kit; after taking in the situation, Ryutaro disappears to the back. Sitting at the counter with a cup of tea, Tetsuya watches this though has little interest.
Not wanting to make the boy walk much farther, Tobio helps him into a seat at one of the tables and asks another worker to bring over a glass of water. He then asks the boy how he’s holding up. The boy starts to say he’s alright, but decides to say the truth – he’s completely exhausted. Tobio remarks on the battle he’d seen and asks what it was about, but the boy shakes his head and answers that he’s not entirely sure. In his mind, however, the boy muses that the stranger was working awfully hard to stop him, and wonders if he could be…
They are interrupted by Ryutaro bringing the first aid kit over and asking the boy to turn towards him. From what he can see at a glance he can guess there may be a few bruises but there doesn’t seem to be anything serious, though they should clean the scrapes and a slightly bleeding wound on the boy’s hand. He then asks the boy for his name, introducing himself as well.
The boy is once again silent and contemplative for a few seconds before answering – Yuki Mizusawa. Tobio now asks what he’s been wondering about – if Yuki might know Madoka Amano. Though startled at this, Yuki nods and admits something that surprises them both – he and Madoka are cousins. He then adds that he needs to speak to her and Gingka immediately.
After exchanging a glance with Tobio, Ryutaro tells Yuki that he won’t be going anywhere until he’s patched up and rested. Madoka wouldn’t want him neglecting his health just to visit her. Yuki wants to protest but has to admit they have a point.
Tobio assures him that they’ll get him to Madoka first thing tomorrow morning. Today he’s had a rough battle and he won’t be able to explain whatever important thing it is he has to tell Gingka if he can’t even stand on his own two feet. After another pause, Yuki finally seems to drop a little bit of his wariness and thanks them. He then thinks to himself that surely Madoka has noticed what has happened and must already be working toward ensuring the safety of the star fragments.
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The main group has relocated to one of the waiting rooms in the arena. Hikaru is curled up on the cushioned bench with Ryo’s jacket across her shoulders; her face is hidden against her knees. The transformed Aquario sits on the table while everyone else is gathered around. Madoka is the only other one sitting, trying to analyze Aquario.
Ryo enters the room with a water bottle, which he tries to give to Hikaru with no response. He sets it beside her and turns to the others, saying that he’s called to have the stadium repaired.
Kyoya is leaning against a wall and staring at Leone. He recalls, like Benkei, the way that the light hit him the night before last. He wonders internally if the same thing happened to Aquario, but recognizes that Hikaru is in no condition to answer questions right now.
Gingka starts to say they can call someone for Hikaru but falters as he realizes he’s not sure who they would call in the first place. It suddenly hits him that though she’s worked with his father for months, they really don’t know anything about her.
Seeing Gingka’s hesitation, Ryo offers to call Hikaru’s uncle. Though Hikaru doesn’t lift her head, she nods. Seeing this Ryo kneels in front of her and gently promises that everything will be alright, and all she has to worry about doing right now is getting some rest. They can meet back up tomorrow and try to figure things out. There’s a pause before Hikaru murmurs an apology about the stadium; Ryo chuckles lightly and assures her that it’s no big deal at all. She was able to get her feelings across to Aquario and prevent it from doing further damage – she should be proud of that.
Hikaru does not respond; instead, she curls in on herself more. Ryo pats her head before standing back up and telling the others to go home and get some rest as well.
Finishing her analysis of Aquario, Madoka closes her computer and tells the others that she’d like their meeting place to be the B-Pit so she can collect more thorough data on the two transformed beys. As she stands up she adds that Benkei should join her now and they’ll get started on fixing Bull, to which he agrees.
They all say reassuring goodbyes to Hikaru and make their way out, with Madoka placing Aquario beside Hikaru on her way. Gingka lingers just long enough to tell Hikaru that she doesn’t need to rush anything and they’ll all be there for her. Ryo steps into the hallway to call Hikaru’s uncle, leaving Kyoya the only one remaining with her. Rather than leave, he looks at her for a moment before walking to the table and taking a seat. Neither of them say a word, though Kyoya glances at Aquario.
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As Madoka and Benkei are making their way back to the B-Pit, Benkei speaks up, wondering if he can ask her something. He mentions that she’s seemed distracted since all this started and he wants to know what’s on her mind.
Madoka hesitantly admits that she feels as though she’s forgetting something. ‘Lights from the sky’ feels like something she should know about. Benkei is rather confused by this, and they both spend some time walking in silence thinking it over.
After they’ve crossed a street, Benkei exclaims that she must be thinking about the legends of Koma Village and the origin of beyblade. He’d almost forgotten himself what they’d learned from Ryo during Battle Bladers due to everything else that had been going on. Finding that Madoka has stopped in her tracks with a strange expression, he interrupts himself and asks if she’s okay.
Madoka slowly mumbles the beginning of the legend in question – “Long long ago, a star fell from the sky”. After some seconds of deep thought, she jolts in realization – “That’s it! I’m so stupid!”
As Madoka suddenly takes off running, Benkei is forced to chase after her without an answer to his baffled, “What is it? Madoka!”
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In Yuki’s observatory, a phone begins to ring in the darkness. The Caller ID lights up with “Madoka”.
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Now in her workshop, Madoka is on the phone in her workshop and slams it down in frustration when she ends up with no answer for what is implied to be the third time. As she tries to think of what else to do, Benkei attempts to ask again what she figured out. She doesn’t seem to hear him until he grabs her shoulder to get her attention, telling her to calm down and explain to him what the problem is.
Though she doesn’t do much in the way of calming down, Madoka explains that it’s complicated, but she knows someone who she’s sure would be able to tell them exactly what’s going on, as her own memories are foggy after so long. Benkei doesn’t understand the latter part of her explanation, but focuses on the former, asking if there’s another way to contact them. Madoka tries again to think while Benkei makes a few suggestions – a different number, an email…
Once again Madoka is hit with the answer and she quickly pulls out her laptop, going to her contacts. She stops at Yuki’s name, then thinks to herself that if he doesn’t answer this time she’ll break into the observatory and dig him out of his research in person.
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A car stops in front of a small house, Hikaru in the backseat with Ryo’s jacket still wrapped around her. She doesn’t immediately register when the driver tells her they’ve arrived, then jumps a bit when he says her name. Quickly apologizing, she opens the door and gets out; she stops to thank “Uncle Akito” before heading inside. Aquario is currently held tightly in her hand.
When she enters, she hears the TV on and follows the sounds of an action movie to find the woman from Episode 1 with the long blue hair – her mother – in the living room. After a glance at the TV, she asks if she’s rewatching the same movie as when she and Kyoya stopped by to pick up her launcher. Her mother laughs and mutes it, explaining that it’s not her fault the station decided to play it twice, but she quickly notices the state Hikaru is in and urges her to sit down while she makes some tea. As Hikaru sits, her mother stands with the help of her cane.
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After Hikaru has explained everything, their cups are nearly empty and Aquario is sitting on the coffee table. As Hikaru stares ahead at the still-muted TV, her mother picks the bey up to examine it more closely. After a moment of doing so, she admits that she had seen the light enter Aquario, but it had been late and she’d forgotten about it by morning. She then muses that if Kyoya’s Leone had changed in response to his blazing spirit, Aquario’s change must have been prompted by Hikaru’s true attempt to try again. She also believes that Aquario’s new spirit is a sign of its belief in her.
When Hikaru expresses confusion at her mother’s claim, she is given Aquario to hold. Her mother explains that this is Aquario’s nature. When its partner reaches a certain point, whether it be by strength, compassion, or just acceptance, the raging waters will shift into an image of their partner’s predecessor. It is a reminder Aquario gives to its partner that they are not alone, and a sign that Aquario believes its partner is truly worthy and capable of great things. When she herself had reached this point, Aquario had taken a form resembling Hikaru’s grandfather. Though, she feels it’s important to add that there’s never been a physical transformation like this that she’s aware of.
“But I believe that whatever that light was, Aquario is telling you that you are capable of taking on what is to come.”
Slightly teary-eyed, Hikaru hugs her mother, who holds her and pets her hair in return.
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At the tea shop, Yuki has been relocated to the break room. His injuries have been tended to and he is finishing up a sandwich when something in his bag begins to chime. After quickly brushing his hands off he pulls out his tablet, confused, then surprised when he sees the incoming video call is from Madoka. After a brief glance at his bandaged hand, he shakes his head and answers.
Madoka’s face takes over his screen and she immediately exclaims his name in some mixture of anger and relief, demanding to know why he didn’t answer the phone. He very sheepishly replies that he isn’t home to have heard it, which stops her short. She begins to ask what he means, but cuts herself off and starts over asking where his injuries came from and where he is if not at home. He brushes the injuries off as the result of a fall and admits that he’s currently in her town. This quiets her.
Madoka: “So...It really is time then. Grandpa’s stories…”
Yuki nods, now serious: “Yes. The new star fragment is finally here. And I believe they are aware of it as well.”
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Still on the couch with her mother, the movie now unmuted, Hikaru is curled up and idly doodling on her tablet when it notifies her of a new email from Madoka. It reads: “Come over tomorrow morning as soon as you can. I know what’s going on.”
In Ryo’s office, he and Gingka see this email and exchange confused looks.
At Kenta’s house, he reads the email on the computer and wonders if they’re about to get caught up in another big mess.
Kyoya sits on the edge of a rooftop as he reads the email from a beat-up cell phone. He then looks up at the sky, his grip on Leone tightening as he does so.
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bigskydreaming · 4 years
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Is it true that gymnasts can't work much when they're 30+ ? Is it like an Olympic gymnast thing or just stuntwork in general? I saw some people concerned over Dick's back causing him problems as he gets older. But then a lot of martial art guys like Donny Yen, Jet Lee are still pretty flexible aren't they?
I see this a lot in fandom too, anon, and as often happens, lol, I myself cater to the ‘fandom’s got it backwards’ take.
Fandom specifically focuses on Dick’s body giving out early on in life compared to the rest, due to acrobatics being ‘his niche’ but in reality - or as close to it as we can come in a universe that tbh really demands suspension of disbelief over the fact that any and all of the Batfam take as much punishment as they endure.....
Thing is, Dick is actually one of the family most likely to have the LONGEST longevity of physical fitness.
This is because fandom keeps correlating Dick’s niche as gymnastics, rather than what it IS - acrobatics.
Yes, gymnastics is typically considered a ‘young person’s game.’
ON AVERAGE.
But, something to keep in mind, is that there are different TYPES of gymnastics. There’s competitive artistic gymnastics, but also rhythmic gymnastics, aerobic gymnastics, and a few others. Olympics gymnasts are primarily competitive artistic gymnastics, but even there, there are specializations so to speak. All Olympic gymnasts are usually cross-trained on the various events/categories, but the teams overall put up their best gymnasts in each category to compete in that category when possible....because for the most part, someone who excels at say, floor routines, is not going to be the most optimal choice to do the high bars or the vault. That’s because floor routines emphasize more rhythmic gymnastics, whereas something like the vault is more in the arena of a power gymnast.
And these different areas of focus put different kinds of strains on the body.
So yes, while its true that a lot of gymnasts retire early and the Olympic teams as a whole tend to see their gymnasts exiting the game by 30 at the latest......the latter is because those gymnasts are expected to be at least capable and at elite levels in ALL events, so they can compete as needed for the overall team....BUT, in the case of the former, the gymnasts that retire early completely.....those are almost universally the power gymnasts, the ones who specialize and emphasize in the hard-hitting events like the vault, the beam, the uneven bars, etc.
I say hard-hitting, because I literally mean hard-hitting. 
Because these are the high impact events. The ones that see a gymnast land with the full weight and impact of their body on their feet at the end of a successful (and exponentially force-multiplying) flip, handspring, dismount, etc. 
That kind of impact puts TREMENDOUS strain on your joints....and that, specifically, is what leads to a lot of early retirements, and a lot of early wear and tear on the body. That’s the kind of punishment that the body can only withstand at elite levels for so long.
But that’s not the only kind of gymnastics, and its definitely not the thing that Dick’s known for specifically - that’s acrobatics. And while there’s similarities and crossover, that’s another ballgame entirely.
In fact, where the similarities and crossover tend to happen is in the areas of rhythmic gymastics, aerobic gymnastics.....the kind of things that you see in events like floor routines, the rings, the parallel bars, the pommel horse.
Those gymnasts, the ones who specialize primarily in those areas of focus......they tend to retire from the OLYMPICS around the same time as the others, because again, everyone on those teams needs to be on the top of their games and CAPABLE of being pitted against the power gymnasts of other teams on events like the vault if they need to fill in in a pinch.....BUT they don’t often retire at age 30 overall.
You wanna know where a lot of them end up going after that?
Cirque de Soleil.
Dead serious, I shit you not.....a ton of elite level gymnasts after leaving gymnastics end up....essentially running away to the circus, lol. A full third of Cirque de Soleil’s performers ARE former professional gymnasts.
And a lot of them end up....acrobats.
Because after all, there is a lot of crossover in the two, in terms of feats.....but the difference, the thing that lends acrobats more longevity than most power gymnasts and the like.....is the latter endure most of the abuse to their bodies and joints....when their bodies hit the ground at the end of their feats.
Acrobats, in contrast.....are kinda focused on.....not being on the ground.
A lot of the same wear and tear simply doesn’t happen on their bodies, and allows them to perform much further into life....because there’s simply less strain in the types of aerial feats acrobatics focus on, while suspended high up off the ground.
And we see this reflected in the Batfam and their various styles of fighting and focus, which is why I say despite people focusing on Dick’s body giving out soonest, as the quote unquote athlete of the family -
(Which tbh, I kinda...eh, about, because it feels often like one of those things where people NAME him ‘the athlete of the family’ just to give him his niche without having to acknowledge him as being the equal of any of the ‘brainy ones’ in that regard like Tim or Babs or Bruce, etc.....but honestly, when was the last time you saw any significant focus put on Dick being able to do something physically that the other members of his family COULDN’T do, because they’re not ‘the athlete’? Y’know what I mean? Like, there’s a lot of MENTION of how he’s the most athletic or acrobatic or all of that.....but that never seems to hold any of the others back from doing any of the equivalent physical feats one is inclined to write them doing, or allowing them to be written as sizably less skilled as fighters in any meaningful way. So focusing on Dick as being the most specifically physically minded and oriented of the family feels a bit performative, tbh, and that puts the focus on his body being specifically vulnerable to wear and tear, moreso than the others a bit.....suspect imo. BUT I DIGRESS).
My point is, regardless of that, my take is the focus on Dick’s body giving out soonest is ironically just....completely backwards. Because actually compare his form of physicality to some of the others, and you see what I’m saying:
Bruce and Jason for instance - they’re perfectly capable of high-level gymnastic feats when necessary, but their overall approach to flips and jumps and grappling swinging and the like is to use it as a means to an end. Its always in service to getting them ON THE GROUND as quickly and efficiently as possible....where they can use their brute strength and mass and physicality to its most effectiveness, wading in to brawl hand to hand with combatants anywhere possible (excepting of course when Jason is using guns from a distance, or Bruce his Batarangs, but you get what I mean in terms of overall styles).
But THAT kind of thing....is far more the realm of the power gymnast. The kind of high impact landings and force-multiplying jumps and flips meant to just....cut straight to it. Hone in like a heat-seeking missile. Deliver the full force of them as quickly and efficiently as possible.
In contrast....Dick’s style is entirely different, and hails directly from his origins and his strengths as an acrobat. He’s NOTED for basically spending as much time IN THE AIR during a fight as possible. He soars above when possible, rather than engage up front and hand to hand. He’s more likely to leap over criminals’ heads, kicking out and navigating upwards on his way to ‘tag’ the next one in any manner he can....dodging in and out, using confusion, weaponizing evasive maneuvers, getting his opponents to get tangled up in each other’s way...that’s HIS style.
Dick deliberately keeps himself at a distance as long as possible, not out of fear but out of basic awareness of his own strengths and weaknesses and his instinctive (due to being a born and raised athlete every bit as much as Damian and Cass are born and raised fighters) drive to look after his own body and keep it maintained and honed and efficient for as long as he can - something that I don’t doubt was drilled into him by his acrobats-as-their-livelihood-family from the very first moment they began training him. 
The less he HAS to engage hand to hand, the less he HAS to land feet flat on the ground after a flip rather than using the balls of his feet to simply spring off even further and then transition into firing his grappling hook mid-air, the less he HAS to block a strike with the side of his forearm or strike someone fist to face rather than block with an escrima stick and strike with the other.....
The longer Dick’s body stays in strong enough condition to remain his most effective weapon.
And that’s not something everyone in his family can claim, or even point to as a priority of any kind.
Which is why I maintain that focusing on Dick’s body giving out young is not only a bit....eh....given they all perform equivalent levels of physicality in their vigilantism day in and day out.....its also, IMO, focusing on the wrong family members entirely. 
(Overall, personally I’d rate Dick, Tim and Cass the ones most likely to retain their physical fitness the longest based on their respective styles and how they’re typically depicted in fight scenes).
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murdereraisuha · 3 years
Text
Final Chapter 5 Reflection
This will have my personal opinion/thoughts on:
The VDC outcome, Rook’s actions, and what could’ve made it better
The Rook reveal and Neige
Kalim, Jamil, and Epel’s development
The Grim scene
Total word count: 2134 words
--- 1 ---
So, RSA won the VDC. My feelings on this are mixed.
Looking at it in relation to the whole plot of TWST, it makes sense. It moves the chance for NRC to finally beat RSA to the upcoming magift tournament, which gives NRC’s potential victory a large amount of excitement/importance which it wouldn’t get from this middle of the year championship.
Furthermore, Rook’s actions do make sense based on his personality. If Vil really didn’t believe that he himself was beautiful, Rook of course would vote for the team that exhibited pure joy in their performance and therefore exhibited a heartfelt beauty. It would be a lie to vote for NRC, and it would disgrace both Rook and Vil. Rook’s actions plot wise also lead to the discussion about Vil valuing himself vs seeking value from others, which I think is a crucial thing for Vil to remember. While trying to gain recognition for hard work is good, and Vil certainly does deserve recognition, it’s much more important to maintain a good perception of yourself even when things happen or people wrongfully say things that might tear down your self-esteem
However, I still have issues with how this played out in relation to the plot of chapter 5. It’s unrealistic for all of Vil’s misgivings about himself to get fixed through the power of friendship and beating each other up. But, still, the team went through a lot in order to get to the championship united and ready to perform. It feels like a slap in the face for them to lose after all that. Especially the scene with Kalim and Epel crying while Ya Hoo cheerfully plays in the background, it's so comically dissonant. Though we already got an explanation from Vil about how Neige’s performance appeals to viewers, I was still shocked. At least it was a close competition rather than a crushing defeat. 
Also, while Rook’s message was sound, the timing was rather bad. Vil and the rest of the team just had a massive battle and then went through a whole song & dance performance without major blunders while still injured. Focusing on Vil’s self-esteem there makes it seem like Rook is just brushing all that determination and effort away. Though Vil doesn’t seem to truly hold it against Rook since he offers the handkerchief back to Rook when he cries, the situation still feels off.
In conclusion, I think that the plot events made sense. However, the execution of them could have been improved. As is, it’s hard to understand Rook’s motivations in this part due to the ridiculousness of RSA’s kid’s song winning. To fix that without just completely overhauling the plot, I believe that the admirable qualities of Neige and the dwarves should have been shown more clearly. For example, while the Pomefiore CM shows a glimpse of their bond, that’s nonexistent in the game. I think that incorporating that into the game (ex. a short scene of Neige reassuring the dwarves that their performance will go well before they step on stage) would help people understand Rook’s point of view better by showing instead of just telling us about the belief Neige has in his friends.. 
Moreover, alongside better reasons for why Rook choose RSA, I think it should be clearer why he did not choose NRC. It seems an attempt at warning of the “betrayal” was done with Vil menacingly saying he’ll win the VDC during the voting, followed by the shot of Rook just going “........”.  To make this less sudden, I think I would change episode 66. Though that episode has Vil saying that he’s ugly, because the team contradicts him and keeps him as the leader it makes it seem like the problem is solved there. Therefore, to better lead to Rook’s speech, I would change episode 66 to have Vil show more hesitation and signs that he still doesn’t believe in himself. 
--- 2 ---
Anyway, on to the reveal about Rook. I wasn’t sure what to think about the name slip up during the previous part, but I just guessed that maybe they’d met before and that meeting is related to RSA and Rook having light magic. Nope, we get Neige simp Rook. I think this reveal was really surprising, but more in a funny way than a “ruins Rook’s character” way. It’s nice to see Rook seriously caught off guard by Neige just nonchalantly exposing him in front of everyone, and everyone’s reactions were extremely funny.
I think that the chapter did a decent job of making it clear that Rook’s relationship with Neige as a fan of him is vastly different from Rook’s calm admiration of and friendship with Vil. I’m kind of curious now about how and when Rook became a fan though. Him being the 2nd member of the fan club implies that Rook found Neige when Neige still hadn’t gotten much fame yet. 
I loved everyone’s Ya Hoo too. Ace and Jamil having level 0 enthusiam, Kalim and Rook having level 1000 enthusiasm, Deuce being startled but slowly getting into it but still being kind of eh, Epel just keeping that wide-eyed confused expression the whole time. ボーテ、100点. For Vil, I understand that he was probably faking his big smile for the benefit of the audience. However, I still hope his opinion of Neige has improved somewhat or will improve. Neige telling Vil that he’s still number one in the eyes of the people who voted for him was really sweet and their interactions with each other are pretty cute/funny when Vil isn’t trying to murder him.
Unlike other minor characters like Chenya and Farena who either weren’t involved in the plot or were only involved as backstory, Neige is Vil’s present rival and motivation for doing the stuff he does and over blotting. With such a large presence that continued all throughout the chapter and the Rook reveal, it would seem strange for Neige to suddenly drop out of existence come chapter 6.
Therefore, assuming that the Grim situation doesn’t derail the current patterns we’ve seen in the story, I think that Neige will be included as part of the Pomefiore involvement in chapter 6. Of course, it could be something small like getting called in for a favor near the end or just mentions of Rook continuing to write him fan letters. However, I’m hoping it’s something larger. From my analysis of the previous part:
Vil’s team’s performance had a lot of cohesion and rehearsal put into it, but it was very competitive focused. On the other hand, Neige and the dwarves obviously had a lot of fun with their performance. However, it was clumsy and they were ill prepared. Therefore, Vil could teach Neige more discipline and planning while Neige could teach Vil about how to not lose sight of finding joy in your work. 
Now that we have confirmation that Neige is a genuinely nice guy, I really want Vil & Neige friendship to happen, or for them to at least be on good terms with each other. It might just be my personal love for relationships where one person tries to be all rival-y but then the other is like “nope, I’m going to friend you whether you like it or not,” but I think this sort of development in the story of TWST would be really enjoyable to watch.
--- 3 ---
For the performance of Absolutely Beautiful, I love that Jamil got to be in the center for a bit. However, that also just makes me more disappointed that we didn’t get more Scarabia or anything about how their families are watching this. With the stuff in 5-30 and 5-34 focusing on Kalim’s perspective on things and his relationship with Jamil, I thought that at some point we would get a final scene focusing on them and how they’ve developed since chapter 4. What we got with  Jamil swooping in to the rescue with the magic carpet then talking about how he could sense that Kalim was about to do something stupid was better than nothing, but idk. I just love the writing and complexity these two have gotten and I wanted that to continue to the end. I still have hope though! If we can get a thing about Leona noticing the traces of magic in the arena, then we can get future appearances from the Scarabia boys too!... please...
Now, for Epel, I also have mixed feelings about his development throughout the chapter. I absolutely loved the beach scene with Deuce and Epel, it was so cute and I liked Epel realizing the power of beauty because of the apple juice Magicam post. However, I think the narrative missed something important. Though Epel’s views had a lot of improvement to be made, Vil’s treatment of him was also terrible and should have been addressed. I believe Vil saying that “throwing a tantrum and taking it out on others was terrible of him” in episode 66 implies that he’s realized that all his actions, not just the overblot, were wrong. However, it’s not clear enough that that was the intention. Vil does not apologize specifically for how he attempted to force Epel to conform to his own beliefs. Though there’s always chapter 6, it still doesn’t seem like the story will ever really address this issue, which is a shame to say the least.
Furthermore, in this final part, Epel offering to take the center position was really good and showed how much he’s grown since the beginning of the chapter. However, it still didn’t bring the whole “poison apple” thing to fruition. Absolutely no one made any comment on his cuteness or how it might rival Neige’s cuteness. Did they plan something with that but scraped it? Like, this is way too little pay off for such a focus on Vil shaping Epel into a way to best Neige. My disappointment with this ending might have to do with these past 3 main story updates being the only ones I’ve been in this fandom for, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Whatever the cause of my disappointment may be, my disappointment still does exist.
--- 4 ---
To top off this roller coaster of a chapter and end this reflection with a more neutral analysis, we have the stuff with Mickey and Grim. Mickey seems really nice, I’m glad that Yuu seems to have made an ally in him. We certainly need one after whatever the hell just happened with Grim. I really have to give props for how unsettling both Grim’s appearance and the sounds during that scene were.
Though we’re obviously getting close to the endgame, the Ignihyde sneak peak that we got seems pretty normal and related to their personal problems rather than the plot. Though it would be interesting for a big change to happen like Yuu being out of commission for the chapter, I think it’s more likely that Yuu will be rescued, Grim just goes missing, then we don’t get much more info on that whole thing until the end of chapter 6 leading into chapter 7.
Anyway, for the scene itself I understand if it just because silent protagonist, don’t want to make them talk/do too much, but it feels kind of weird that there wasn’t really any indication of a struggle? Just standing there, staring at Grim, getting clawed, then black out. Nothing to indicate trying to step back. There was some weird clopping??? sound after he attacked but since the camera didn’t move that wasn’t Yuu collapsing.
Also, it might just be supposed to be “Grim’s laugh but creepy,” but his ケヒッ、 ケヒヒッ laughter sounds unusually distinctive? Idk, I just had the thought that it could be in reference to some other disney character with a similar laugh but idk who that would be since I’m not big into disney movies.
Right before he attacks, Grim also shouts “this is my stone!!!” Firstly, assuming that this stone is the same small size as the others, shouldn’t he already be done eating it? Yuu’s not exactly gonna stick their hand down his throat to retrieve it. So what stone is he talking about?
Well, we know that the magic crystal on the magic pens is supposed to collect blot so that it doesn’t built up inside someone, right? Blot accumulated from outright eating it instead of blot accumulated from casting magic is probably different, but what if some of the blot from the black stones did get gathered up by Grim’s crystal on his collar? We know how crazed he has been getting about the black stones. Is it so much of a stretch to think that he might be trying for more? That he might be trying to create instead of just find? 
How would a black magic crystal taste?
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And into the cavalry battle we go! Can’t believe this is gonna take three whole chapters to get through… sports festival feels way too long already, man, and I’m only a handful of chapters into it...
[No. 28 - Strats, Strats, Strats]
We start off with Shouto speaking to his team, explaining that he chose them in order to make the most stable formation. Kaminari will guard the left and keep people away with his electricity. Yaomomo takes the right, makes the insulator, and shields and supplements their movements. Tenya takes the lead, since his mobility and physical stature make for good defense. 
One of them (I think Tenya?) asks if Shouto will hold people off with his ice and fire. Shouto doesn’t reply right away, instead looking over to the stands - more specifically, towards where Endeavor is watching from. He tells them no, in battle, he refuses to use his left side.
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Huh, they do have the same eyes here. Wind dude kind of has a point. 
As the teams stand along the outside of the perimeter of the battle arena, Present Mic does a final, rhetorical check to make sure the teams are formed and are ready to go, then announces the start of the countdown to the battle royale. We jump around a bit as the countdown is given: Monoma tells Tetsu^4 no hard feelings, which Tetsu returns. Toshinori watches on from the stands. 
We see team Bakugou and team Todoroki in formation and ready to go, both of them focused on a single target. Izuku himself has gotten over most of his nerves and now is focused on the moment. All of them have their point totals given and also broken down by members of the team, in case you weren’t able to do the math yourself from the previous chapters. 
Since Hori is giving the team point breakdowns for our three main teams anyways, this is where I want to insert the team and point totals for all the teams, from most to least points on the headbands:
Team Midoriya [10,000,325 P]: Midoriya [10M] + Uraraka [135] + Tokoyami [180] + Hatsume [10]
Team Tetsutetsu [705 P]: Tetsutetsu [165] + Honenuki [190] + Awase [155] + Shiozaki [195]
Team Bakugou [665 P]: Bakugou [200] + Kirishima [170] + Ashido [120] + Sero [175]
Team Todoroki [615 P]: Todoroki [205] + Iida [185] + Yaoyorozu [130] + Kaminari [95]
Team Mineta [420 P]: Mineta [125] + Shouji [145] + Asui [150]
Team Hagakure [330 P]: Hagakure [25] + Jirou [110] + Satou [140] + Kouda [115]
Team Monoma [305 P]: Monoma [35] + Tsuburaba [100] + Kuroiro [65] + Kaibara [105]
Team Shinsou [295 P]: Shinsou [80] + Ojiro [160] + Shouda [50] + Aoyama [5]
Team Kendo [225 P]: Kendo [75] + Tokage [20] + Komori [45] + Yanagi [85]
Team Kodai [165 P]: Kodai [60] + Bondo [90] + Fukidashi [15]
Team Rin [125 P]: Rin [55] + Shishida [70]
Team Tsunotori [70 P]: Tsunotori [30] + Kamakiri [40]
Have fun keeping track of points in the canon event, or mix stuff up for your own teams if you wanna do alt teams or whatever. Anywho, moving on, as Mic announces the start of the match.
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And of course, it’s no surprise that several of the teams immediately rush Izuku’s team, even though I feel like it makes way more sense for them to hang back and wait until there’s only a few minutes left in order to actually take the points. But I suppose competitiveness and all that. More specifically, it’s team Tetsu^4 and team Hagakure after team Midoriya first.
Tetsu is the first to acknowledge (loudly) that the whole match is really a fight for the ten million, and everyone knows it. Hagakure herself is just eager to be going after Izuku, which is inch resting. Competitive, she do be. 
Tokoyami notes the two teams incoming and ready to attack, and checks with Izuku (in his own way) what their response will be. While the girls are a bit in wonder at Tokoyami’s choice of words, Izuku says that of course they’ll be running away. Honenuki, no doubt hearing this, attempts to prevent them from moving by causing the ground under them to soften into a gloop that they start to sink into. 
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Oh no, quicksand! Too bad it’s not movie quicksand. Izuku quickly realizes whose quirk it is (I think) and tells Ochako and Mei to turn away for a second. Then, once they do, he turns on the jetpack, and they all go flying up and out of the pit trap and over the heads of the teams going after them. Tetsu realizes that the support girl must have provided the tools for flying, still focused on going after them. Hagakure calls for Jirou to try and stop them, with Jirou sending out her earjacks to try and keep them from getting away - only for Dark Shadow to smack away the jacks, allowing team Midoriya to make a clean escape.
Tokoyami tells Dark Shadow well done, and to cover the teams’ blind spots. Dark Shadow accepts the task with great enthusiasm, twisting around to watch behind all of them. Izuku takes a moment to gush over Tokoyami’s quirk, talking about how its defensive power was just what they needed, and how now the team is covered at midrange from every direction. Tokoyami is the one to point out how Izuku is the one who chose him. 
Ochako gives her team warning before they land, with her boots (from Mei) being the first to hit the ground with a poof of dust blown away from her landing site. Mei asks how Izuku is liking her babies, bragging about how cute they are and how she made them that way. Izuku complements the mobility they’re giving the team and Mei’s work in general, leading to her gushing more. Meanwhile, Izuku reveals in his thoughts that Ochako had made everyone except herself weightless, so that all the weight that’s being carried is her plus their clothes and equipment. 
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Ochako, meanwhile, is a bit put out that Izuku hasn’t gushed over her part in all this, because the only part he gushed over her about was internal. Izuku, you should have complemented her work out loud as well, you dummy.
Team Hagakure prepares themselves to go after Izuku again, only for Sato to notice something important - the headband she was wearing is gone! Hagakure is shocked and freaked out, trying to figure out when and how it happened. Meanwhile, Monoma and his team are heading away, Monoma spinning said headband around his finger as he says to consider him an opportunist. 
We get a bit of an overhead view of a number of the teams running around the battlefield (which was very helpful in putting together the team listings). Present Mic states that two minutes have just passed, but the battlefield is already chaotic. Everyone’s scrambling for headbands, but there isn’t just the ten million out there! Other high rankers are also worth a shot as well. 
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Just as an overview here, we see team Tetsu^4 and team Hagakure are still going after team Midoriya, with Shouji just there in the corner of the textbox approaching from behind as well. Teams Rin and Shinsou are rushing at each other, as are team Todoroki and team Kendo. Team Mindoriya, meanwhile, just seems to be trying to get out of the way on foot.
Shouji (or is it Mineta hiding inside the ‘bunker’ made by Shouji’s dupliarms?) laughs a bit, saying how this isn’t a scramble, but a one-sided massacre. Yeah, in retrospect, that sounds way more like Mineta. But also, Izuku thinking Shouji’s alone, even though this event is a cavalry battle, so maybe it was him? Eh, whatever. Tokoyami notes that they have to keep their distance, since fighting multiple foes is a bad idea. However, that plan goes a bit awry when Ochako steps on what turns out to be one of Mineta’s quirk balls, causing her to become stuck in place. Izuku quickly tries to determine where Mineta is, only to be surprised when he sees Mineta hiding inside Shouji’s dupliarm bunker. 
Someone (maybe Ochako?) asks if that’s legal, which Midnight confirms it is. As if that’s not enough, Tsuyu, also on Shouji’s back, lashes out with her tongue, just missing both Izuku and Tetsu thanks to their timely dodges. As she retracts her tongue, she complements Izuku’s dodging; Izuku wonders how many people Shouji has hiding on his back. 
Tsuyu quickly reminds Izuku to use her first name, but probably isn’t heard since team Midoriya make a strategic retreat back into the sky - breaking one of the hoverboots in the process, unfortunately. Present Mic comments on how team Mineta using the size difference of its members to form what can be more considered a tank than anything. Mei is distressed at the destruction of her baby, with Ochako apologizing but noting that they got away.
Too bad someone was prepared for their second takeoff, and really, really wants those points.
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Izuku: Oh fuck I’m gonna die.
Katsuki, looking pretty gremlin-y, as per the norm, yells how Izuku is getting pretty damn full of himself (which is hilarious in its irony.) Izuku quickly calls for Tokoyami to react, and Dark Shadow takes the explosive blow meant for Izuku despite the massive discomfort in its expression. Katsuki is confused, but has no time to make a second attempt, as Sero tossed his tape and latches onto him, pulling him right back into the waiting arms of his team. 
Present Mic wonders whether leaving one’s unit is allowed, which Midnight confirms is allowed on a technicality - aka his feet didn’t touch the ground. In the staff booth, Death Arms comments on how those class A kids sure are something else. In the crowds, people comment on how it’s fun to watch, what with all the flashy moves, and that it’s just the level the kids are at after fighting real villains. 
Present Mic cuts back with with more commentary, stating how both the doggedly pursued first place team and the determined pursuers from class A are nothing to sneeze at. He then draws attention to the current standings, asking rhetorically how said teams are doing after seven minutes of play. There’s a moment of silence, the crowds and the two in the announcement booth shocked as they actually register the standings.
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Why, it looks like almost all the points are being held by teams from class 1b! What a plot twist!
Monoma sweeps by, grabbing the headband right off of Katsuki, as he comments on how it’s too simple, really. Katsuki demands the head back back, threatening Monoma with death, while Mina comments on how easily he caught them by surprise. 
Monoma goes into a bit of a monologue on how Midnight’s announcement of the first event made it obvious that the number of participants wouldn’t be thinned that much in a preliminary. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that a good number of students would be advancing to the next event - around forty or so. It was really the perfect opportunity to hold back and observe their soon-to-be-rivals’ quirks and tendencies, so it was only fair they ended up placing more modestly. 
Kirishima asks if the whole class was in on it. Monoma says that no, not everyone was, but it wouldn’t have been a bad idea, instead of aiming for some fleeting first place, like a horse going for a dangling carrot. Meanwhile, team Bondo approaching as well. How is Katsuki taking all this?
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Not great. And of course, because Monoma has no chill, he turns back to give Katsuki a mocking look, commenting on how Katsuki’s already a celebrity - the victim of the sludge incident! He’ll have to ask sometime, how does it feel to be attacked by villains on an annual basis?
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RIP Monoma, you fucking dead. Katsuki tells Kirishima there’s a change of plan. As Monoma glances back at him curiously, we see that Katsuki has gone completely feral and around the bend, and is probably actually going to murder a man by the end of this. Katsuki’s plan? Before going after Deku, he’s gonna murder every last member of Monoma’s team.
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Izuku, apparently overhearing Monoma’s monologue, notes how class 1b threw the qualifiers and planned for the long game. Even before the sports festival, he had the impression that they were stronger than they seemed, and that they want to end class 1a’s supremacy. On the other hand, because of that, they aren’t quite so deadset on targeting Izuku. 
Izuku starts to talk to his team about how it shouldn’t be too hard to evade - only to be cut off both physically and verbally by team Todoroki getting in front of them. As Present Mic announces the match being halfway over already, Izuku takes a deep breath and recenters himself, stating how it won’t be quite that easy. Shouto states kind of menacingly that they’re coming for him; other teams are shown briefly reaction to the loss of points in their own ways. 
We close out on Present Mic noting that class B is on the rise, but in the end, who will wear the ten million point crown?
Anywho, glad to finally have that chapter done, even if there’s still two more before we get through this second event and finally move on to the finals. At the least, this sports festival stuff has actually gotten me thinking about the reasoning behind the decisions made for the entrance exam and sports festival, which I will probably end up making posts for after this arc is over.
See y’all next time! Character sheet will be up in just a moment. 
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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years
Text
Dances and Daggers
Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…
Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character
Chapter 11: The Games
Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter
Word Count: 2,322
Chapter Summary: The long-anticipated Summer Games have arrived.
A/N:  This is probably my favorite chapter in this story and I'm really excited to post it. I got some bad news yesterday and have kind of been in a weird headspace ever since, so this has really been giving me something positive to look forward to. Seeing your likes and comments really make my day every week :) 
I hope you enjoy it, and as always, thank you so much for reading!
TW: Violence, child abuse
Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 
if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)
Read it on Ao3!
The first day of the Games arrived in all its vicious glory. Feasts, festivities, toasts, the clinking of mugs and the cheering of names—it seemed the whole of Asgard was gathered about the arena, the usual level of pandemonium descending upon the crowd as each warrior was introduced.
Teki sat stiff as a board in her seat, hands properly clasped in her lap as she stared straight ahead, unblinking. The swelling by her temple hadn’t completely gone down, but her mother had been able to manipulate a loose hairstyle that mostly hid it from view. While that worked seemingly well, Teki was afraid to move the wrong way, lest her hair shift and reveal her injuries. Even clapping seemed dangerous.
The princes were soon called forward as well, raucous applause erupting across the masses as Thor, the three-time defending champion, leapt with a bow and a winning smile. Loki’s name was somewhat lost in the ensuing chaos.
Teki was careful to keep her face neutral. She didn’t know where Osvald was seated, but wherever he was chances were high that he had a good view of her atop the royal platform next to Frigga. She knew he’d be watching her for any kind of improper reaction. She was determined not to give him one.
Besides her, the Queen clapped halfheartedly for her sons. Teki was rather surprised at her lack of enthusiasm. Shouldn’t a mother be more unhampered in her support? But Frigga’s brow was creased with worry. Teki gazed at the boys choosing their weapons alongside the other fighters—swords, knives, axes. She wondered if she’d be able to clap if Brant was in the arena.
The first day was dedicated to contests and non-confrontational competitions—archery, footraces, axe-tossing. Supposedly, this was the less violent segment of the Games, although the words “less violent” and “the Games” didn’t really match up. Inevitably, a judge made a bad call, the affronted contestant sprang up in insulted frustration, and then suddenly everyone in the arena was shouting at the top of their lungs and throwing each other to the ground. These brawls were a staple of the Games, and more often than not Thor was one of the first to start them, so King Odin usually let them go on for a bit before silencing everyone with a clang of his spear.
Teki tried to watch with the diligence expected of future royalty, but the summer heat worsened her headache and stifled her attentiveness, sending little beads of sweat dripping down her face and irritating her bruised skin. At least the royal platform was shielded from the sun—she felt bad for the people huddled around the ring with no cover whatsoever. Still, it was far too hot to properly follow anything.
The only time the competition truly held her attention was during the knife throwing, although she was ashamed to admit why. Loki dominated the event like it was his life’s calling. His movements were almost feline, cutting through the air as if he were a blade himself, carrying a kind of fluidity that even the veteran participants lacked. Teki didn’t think he missed a single throw. When the judges crowned him winner, she couldn’t resist her tiny grin.
It made her think of the gold-hilted dagger wedged beneath her mattress along with her father’s journal. She found herself fantasizing about wearing it to the Games, sitting here in her seat with Loki’s blade at her waist. Lots of women did something like that—wearing their warrior’s weapon of choice to show solidarity with him during the tournament. She imagined how Loki would react, if he looked up at the podium and saw her wearing his dagger. She wondered if his face would light up the way it did when she came to watch him practice …
The trumpets blared, announcing the next event. Teki shook herself from the daydream. What was she thinking? She was betrothed to Prince Thor, destined to be his Queen. She couldn’t allow her thoughts to wander elsewhere. The next group trooped into the arena. Teki only sunk lower in her seat.
One-on-one duels began the following day. This was what everyone had been waiting for. The crowd was absolutely feral as the order was announced. Most of the people were foreign to Teki, but her ears perked up at a few familiar names: Loki would be fighting towards the beginning, against another novice combatant. Thor was going against a hulking man from Vanaheim. Fandral was paired against another one of Thor’s friends: the slender, controlled warrior who preferred a spiked mace to a sword and whom Teki had rarely seen lose.
Good, she thought as the two shook hands, I hope he kicks your butt.
Again, she found herself struggling to stay focused throughout the duels between people she didn’t recognize. The first one ended when one of the men yielded. The second went through until the loser was knocked to the dirt, unconscious and bleeding. The third went on so long that by the time a winner was called the crowd had almost completely lost interest.
But then it was Loki’s turn. Teki perked up when he arrived in the field with a slight bow, adjusting his golden breastplate as he did. He met her gaze when he turned to the platform, his impassible expression relaxing a moment when he saw her smiling.
His opponent bowed as well. He was a crazed looking thing, wisps of his wildfire hair curling past his neck like a lion’s mane. His name was Geirr, and while the master of ceremonies said he was the same age as Loki, Teki was certain he looked a bit older.
The two boys took their stances in the arena with their staffs. Teki swallowed. She wished Loki could use his daggers. The games were set up in a series of rounds, with the winners of each duel going on to fight each other in the next. They changed the weapons each time: round one was quarterstaff, round two was sword, round three was axe, and so on until the final round, where the last two warriors used their weapon of choice. While Teki knew well that Loki was more than capable with the weighted staffs, nothing could compare to his deadliness with his daggers.
At the sound of the trumpet, Geirr was quick to jump to the offensive.  He leapt forward with several well-aimed stabbing motions that Loki deftly avoided. He blocked another swing and attempted a hit of his own, grazing Geirr’s torso before the red-haired boy pushed him back.
It was a very even match. The two chased each other into every corner of the arena, each sharp clap of their staffs meeting echoing across the thrumming crowd like thunder. Teki found herself leaning forward in her seat. At moments, Loki seemed just on the edge of victory. He got the first hit, smacking his opponent against his ribcage and causing him to double over in pain. The crowd cheered, but then Geirr was on his feet again and rushing at the prince, and once more Loki was on the defensive.
Teki’s chest hurt from holding her breath. Come on. Loki was right on top of him, landing blows on his shoulder, his hip. Geirr was struggling to stay on his feet. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands. So close. Come on—
Geirr feinted to the right. It was a sudden jerk that caught Teki off guard, and she inhaled so sharply it stung.
It seemed to catch Loki off guard too. When he moved to block, Geirr whipped the other end of the staff around from the left. It collided with the prince’s face with a sickening crack. Her hands flew to her mouth, muffling her gasp. Loki fell backwards. For a moment, the crowd was silent.
Loki didn’t move.
The master of ceremonies rushed into the arena, raising Geirr’s hand. “The winner! Geirr Alfrson!” The people erupted into cheers.
Teki barely heard them. Loki was still on the ground, flocked by individuals in the blue robes of the healing ward. Was that blood on his face? She stared at them with a knitted brow. Was he unconcious? How hard of a blow must it have been to knock him unconscious? The healers were caring him out of the fighting area on a pallet of some sort. He still hadn’t moved.
Frigga was already on her feet, rushing down the stairs to the medical tents set up just outside the crowd. For once, she didn’t think of Osvald. Teki hurried to follow her.
The Queen stopped at the entrance to the white tent, speaking in hushed tones with one of the healing women. Teki slipped past them, seemingly without notice.
Inside, Loki was awake, and Teki exhaled in relief. He was sitting up on a cot as another woman in blue held a blood-soaked cloth to his nose.
“How are you feeling now?” she was asking.
He shrugged. “Fine.”
“Any lightheadedness?”
“Not really.”
“Very well.” The woman stood, patting him gently on the knee. “It was a simple heal. You should be able to rejoin the festival without issue when you feel ready.” With that, she exited the tent, nodding slightly as she passed Teki on the way out.
Loki heaved a sigh, cradling his head in his hands. Teki approached him slowly, kneeling at his side.
“Hey,” she asked quietly. “Are you all right?”
He glanced up quickly. Once he saw that it was only her, he relaxed a bit.
“I’m fine.” He huffed bitterly. “I could’ve taken him. Easily. One quick illusion, and he never would’ve seen it coming.” She jumped when he smacked the mattress. “I thought maybe—for once in my life—”
 He was crying, Teki realized with a start. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, dangerously close to spilling over. She didn’t know what to say.
“You did wonderfully,” she murmured. “There’s no reason to be ashamed. He just got a lucky hit—”
“There shouldn’t have been a lucky hit!” There was something dark in his face, something Teki had never seen there before. It scared her. He scowled. “Thor wouldn’t have let him get a lucky hit.”
“But—you can do things Thor can only dream of,” Teki pointed out. Where was this coming from? “Like the liquid light, with Brant—”
Loki laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “That doesn’t matter! It’s just a trick, nothing but a trick. Tricks don’t win the day. Father wants real warriors, not childish pranks.”
“You are a real warrior!” she insisted. “You won the knife toss yesterday, and you still did really well today—”
“You don’t understand!” he cried. “It’s not enough! It’s never enough.”
He fell forward, covering his eyes with his hand. His body shook with barely restrained sobs. Teki’s heart was breaking. She reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing against his shoulder. When he didn’t flinch away, she moved closer. Loosely, giving him plenty of room to pull away if he wanted to, she eased the prince into an embrace.
At first, he stiffened, and Teki almost made to let him go, but then his arms encircled her torso, gripping her as if she were his only anchor to land. She held him tighter in return.
And with that, the dam broke. Loki sobbed into her shoulder openly, unabashedly, no longer attempting to keep up appearances. Teki didn’t say anything. She had never been very good at comforting people, never really knew how. All she could do was rub his back and let him cry.
She wasn’t sure how long it went on for. Eventually, Loki stopped, pulling away to wipe at his eyes with the heel of his hand. He kept his head down, seemingly ashamed to meet her gaze.
“Forgive me,” he murmured hoarsely.
She frowned. “For what?”
“It’s—” His voice caught in the back of his throat “Pathetic. Selfish, to complain. Forgive me.”
“No it’s not.” Teki reached out to push his chin up so he’d look at her. Still, he avoided her eyes. “How is it selfish?” Norns know how many times he’s put up with my tears.
“I just—” He shook his head. “Here I am, whining to you about my gripes with my father, when you—when you’re suffering through conditions I can’t even imagine.” His fingers brushed against her temple, just barely running across the swelling. Now it was her turn to face the floor in shame. He had noticed. Of course he had.
“It’s so selfish…” he repeated, his voice so soft it seemed to be coming from somewhere else.
“No,” she whispered. She turned back to him, hoping the determined sincerity came across in her expression. “You always can complain. Anytime. I’ll always listen. You’re not selfish.”
He stared at her, his eyes tired and swollen. His hand traced her profile, down from her temple to cup her cheek. She shivered.
“But I am,” he said finally, almost too quiet to hear. “Because I don’t want you to marry my brother. And the reason is entirely selfish.”
Teki’s heart stuttered to a halt. What? Her mouth fell open, but no words came out. What should she say to that? What could she say to that?
Just then, the tent flap pushed open. Loki stiffened, pulling away from her immediately. Twisting around, Teki found herself melting under the iron gaze of Odin AllFather. Frigga stood not far behind. She felt the color drain from her face.
For a moment, they just stared at her. Teki quickly scrambled to her feet, burning (she had been kneeling, how must that have looked?).
“Your Majesties,” she faltered, somehow managing to sink into a clumsy curtsey. “If—if you’ll excuse me.” And with that, without waiting for a response, she fled from the tent.
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