#just a little guy with the weight of the world bolted to his tiny tiny shoulders | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

killedpink · 1 year

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방찬 | the space between us.

🎧 masterlist !?

🏹 synopsis: after a particularly difficult breakup, your reliable, trustworthy best friend chan shows up to comfort you. in some ways more than others.

☕️ word count: 3.7k

🏷 contains: breakup, friends to lovers, mutual pining, comfort sex, soft dom chan, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, teeny bit of nipple play, possessive chan, thigh riding, so much praise, multiple orgasms.

a knock at your door pulled you from your bedsheets, throwing the covers off of your entire body and swinging off the edge of the comfortingly warm bed. your apartment was unnaturally quiet, unnaturally bare and unnaturally unfamiliar. was it even yours to begin with? it didn't take long to get to the dead-bolted front door, unlocking the tedious locks and swinging it open, the cold air slamming into your face.

seeing chan felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders, slamming your tear-streaked face into his middle and wrapping your arms around his toned back was your new favourite thing to do. he smelled warm, homey and gently masculine, like cedar wood and citrus. he was calming all over, he was comforting all over, he was kind all over. chan was your only sense of familiarity now, the better half of the past year being wasted on a dirtbag of the highest order. "what happened, beautiful?" he whispered into your hood, (his) the black champion hoodie obscuring the top and back of your head, using it to shield you from the cruel, unjust outside world. just hearing chan's voice made everything feel better; his presence giving you another reason to carry on tomorrow. you could hear the soft thumps of his heartbeat, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and most importantly you could feel his large hand slowly stroke your back, moving up and down, following the path of your spine.

you felt yourself hiccuping tears into his chest, his arm slowly rocking you back and forth like a tiny, exhausted baby. you pulled away from him, eyes immediately focusing on the dark patches on chan's hoodie from where you had cried into him. "come in, chan." you stood aside, letting him enter your apartment and set down the hot drinks he brought with him for the both of you to share on your coffee table. who bought that? you couldn't even remember, feeling like an intruder in your own home, despite owning it before ever knowing the world's worst boyfriend. chan settled on your couch, his trusting eyes watching you follow his lead, leaning your head on his broad shoulder. "i hate him.." you spoke, to no-one in particular, your eyes closing to let your tears pass. "oh, baby," chan was sympathetic, of course, rubbing your sides and wiping the tears from your eyes. you let chan take care of you — you let yourself relax into his touch, into his warmth, into his chest.

"what do you say we forget all about that idiot guy, yeah? you wanna watch a movie?" chan proposed, his australian accent making you giggle. "of course. you pick." you smiled into him, moving off of him so he could grab the tv remote. is that where you last left it? you watched chan, noted how his brows creased in concentration, how his full lips pouted as he debated every movie your netflix had to offer. everything about him just felt right: he never made you sad, he never made you uncomfortable nor unwelcome. you hated how you didn't hate anything about chan, instead completely enamoured with every little detail of him. his wavy hair, for one — you loved the way it tickled your skin, or how it framed his face, how it bounced when he moved too suddenly. his dimples, especially, you felt your heart flutter when they peeked through his skin when he stretched his cheeks or spoke certain words.

you hadn't had a drink all day, your body dehydrated from crying. the warm, aromatic coffee tasting so delectable you struggled to put it down, letting the heat seep into your hands through the sleeve on the cup. when your eyes caught chan's gaze, he looked away, seemingly upset even if you could only see one side of his face. he shook his head, barely, and turned to you, with a soft, small and gentle smile on his rosy, plump lips. "no one's gonna hurt you again, i swear." the palm of his hand gingerly holding the outside of yours, your hand now feeling warmth from both sides, giving you goosebumps. or was it chan's touch? his hand moved from yours to your cheek, softly cradling your face in his wide, strong hand. his brown, trusting eyes searching yours as if the harder he looked into them the more of your mind he would be able to read, "i won't let them." he whispered, your bodies close enough that you heard the emotion in his voice as clear as day. your hand wrapped around his muscular arm, fingers curling around his forearm, "i trust you, channie." you muttered, your mouth speaking the words before your brain even realised you were speaking.

there was nothing else the two of you needed to say in that moment, opting for a comfortable silence in which you simply rested your head on chan's chest, letting him absentmindedly play with your hair or fiddle with your hoodie strings. it was oddly relaxing; just lounging on chan was all you needed to feel miles better, his company alone proving to be more efficient than spending your days sobbing into your pillow. those days of pure heartbreak feeling like a lifetime ago already in chan's arms. he fixed everything, even if he was doing nothing but watching a movie and letting you use him as a pillow.

if you were asked what the movie chan picked was called, you'd be speechless, completely concentrating on chan, your aching, yet mending heart and the sting of your under-eyes. you supposed it was funny, considering you often felt the rumble of his chest from laughter, his mellow voice soothing you entirely. it was late when chan arrived, the sun slowly exiting the sky and the roads chock-full of people rushing back home. about twenty minutes into the movie you were certain neither of you were watching, the sky faded into a dark blue, the edge of the earth still brimming with light. you shifted positions, your legs resting on chan's lap, your head still tucked safely into the crook of his neck, his heartbeat coaxing your exhausted body to sleep.

when you woke, it was entirely because chan had moved you from his arms onto your bed. your body woke before your mind, your eyes not registering the time on your clock for a few moments before your brain had the opportunity to catch up. 01:22. are you serious? "chan? how long was i asleep for?" your eyesight was bleary, yet you could still make out his tender smile, his eyes crinkling. "don't worry about it. you needed the rest. go back to sleep if you want." he stroked the hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. what? "chan.." you started, voice betraying you as it whispered, voice slightly hoarse and feathery from sleep. "i know, i'm sorry, i didn't realise i.." chan was trying to get the words out of his mouth faster than he could say them, unable to explain what had happened.

"no.. it was okay, actually. i.. i liked it. a lot." you smiled, slowly sitting up on your bed. chan still seemed a bit uneasy, his mind likely racing like you knew he had a habit of doing. you sighed, "look. it's late, it's dark and it's cold. just.. stay the night for me? please? we don't even have to talk about it. i just.. i don't wanna say goodbye yet." you stammered, feeling your heart beating frantic in your chest, blood rising to your cheeks, throat dry and hands trembling. you smiled at him, your heart fluttering when you saw he couldn't resist his own smile, his dimples showing and his eyes turning into crescent moons. he was so pretty — who in their right mind wouldn't want him to stay the night?

please say yes. please say yes. please say yes.

"you're right, it's late and it would be really dumb to try driving anywhere right now. i'll just sleep on the couch, i'm sure you want your space," he decided, shrugging sheepishly. you were instantly dejected by his answer, his dark, copper eyes briefly holding eye contact with yours. you knew you were teetering on friendship and relationship, you knew asking could ruin so much — but you also knew you couldn't sleep without chan. fuck it. "please don't go. chan, stay with me. please." asking felt like a shot in the dark, it was terrifying and exhilarating. his gaze softened, his brows relaxed, his soft lips curved into a tiny, delighted smile. "okay. i'll stay here." chan sat down next to you, easily welcoming you into his arms once more. "so.. about that kiss?" you inquired, eyeing him carefully. his body usually reacted before his mind, always caught up in his thoughts. he shifted momentarily, "i just.. i don't even know, i saw you there, all sleepy and calm and i just wanted you to feel better." you shook your head, "i always feel better with you, chan." he was taken aback, clearly unaware of his effect on you, or on others. you sat up, facing him, inches away, interested in what his next words will be.

you were not expecting a kiss. a full bodied, chan's soft, plump lips on yours, his hands holding your cheeks tenderly, type of kiss. and while you sat there, blinking, dazzled it was over before you knew what had happened, before you had the opportunity to savour it. your eyes were wide, resembling a deer caught in headlights, a strong opposite compared to chan's relaxed, calm eyes. you leaned your body into his, allowing your lips to collide with his once more. you felt him smile into the kiss, you felt the tip of his wide nose brush against yours, you felt his hands twirl the hair from the nape of your neck in his fingers. you felt tingly all over, goosebumps rupturing all over your skin, feeling yourself nuzzle into him. "this isn't a heat of the moment thing, is it..?" chan whispered against your lips, pecking them quickly, hungrily and eagerly. you shook your head, "no.. definitely not." you answered, pressing your puckered lips against his, your teeth grazing his bottom lip.

distance grew in-between the both of you. "do you wanna..?" chan trailed off, too embarrassed to formally ask. "i thought you'd never ask." you leaned into him once more, pressing needy kisses to his jawline, "i need you, channie." you murmured into his bronzed, tan skin. with less than five words, you had set something ablaze in chan that you had never seen before. he tore his hoodie off of his body, letting you — not so subtly — check him out. he was like an adonis, every inch of his torso perfectly carved like he was a living, breathing marble sculpture. following his lead, you yanked the hoodie off of your body, turning it inside-out in the process, throwing it wherever your mind decided in such a short amount of time. your legs fell on both sides of chan, his hands holding your bare breasts in his hands; they felt heavy all of a sudden, hyperaware of his hands experimentally groping them, fondling the soft flesh in his skilled hands.

chan took your nipple in his mouth, flattening his tongue to brush the hardening bud in one swipe, his lips puckering around it as he let his teeth graze against the sensitive skin there. it gave you goosebumps — the feeling of his hot mouth on your erected nipple, heating up not only your breast but your face, feeling it flush against the skin of your neck. he replaced his mouth with his thumb, rubbing the nipple with the pad of his thumb, observing how you reacted to his touch intently. you squirmed in place, "chan, please.." you started; however unable to finish. he caught on quickly, yet he was simply too cruel to follow through, instead opting to lean back, putting his weight on his hands and arms as they held him up, "c'mere, then. i won't bite.. too hard, at least," he grinned, his white teeth poking out from his blushy, pink lips.

you approached him on your knees, "take these off," chan's finger hooked under the waistband of your pants, watching you expectantly. as shy as you were — you weren't embarrassed by chan, thanks to your many years of friendship, intimacy came surprisingly, yet welcomely, easy. you didn't have to think twice about it, quickly stripping them from your body, leaving you in your underwear alone. it couldn't be helped that your eyes wandered to his chest, watching as it rise and fell with his breath, watching as the shadows contoured his muscles, and how his abs fluttered with the air he inhaled and exhaled, the movement just a few milliseconds behind his chest's movements.

his hands wrapped around your waist, sitting just above the swell of your hips, and guided you onto his thigh. his smirk was crudely wide, not even hiding how much he was enjoying this. the denim of his jeans gave a different sensation than what you were used to, your arms wrapping around chan's bare, wide shoulders to anchor yourself, allowing him to grind you onto his thigh, your flesh under his fingers dipping from the pressure he was using to grab onto you, his veiny hands clinging onto your waist as if you'd slip through his fingers. chan brought you to paradise and back, pushing and pulling you by your waist on his thigh, clenching and unclenching the muscle underneath your cunt so expertly that you needn't do much but let him control you; positive you couldn't achieve an orgasm as brilliantly as chan gave it to you if you tried by yourself. your nails dug into the muscle of his shoulder, connecting his neck and shoulder blade as your clit caught on the waistband of his jeans — causing chan to chuckle and grind you onto his thigh even harsher than before.

it didn't take long for you to cum, leaving a dark wet spot on both his jeans and your underwear, sticky and clinging onto your sex as a consequence. "you see what you do to me, beautiful?" chan muttered, your eyes falling down to his crotch to see the painfully apparent bulge residing where his cock was. fuck, he was that big? the ashes of your orgasm are still glowing and simmering with a residual heat in your body, but it's the kiss that chan presses against your throat, and the way his hands trail down to the curve of your ass and brazenly gropes it — that's what fully reignites that volatile pit in your gut.

"chan.." you plea, your hand falling to cup the tent in his pants, palming it in your hand. you watched as his abs trembled, his chest stuttering as he shakily drew in a breath. he used the side of his hand to push you back, your body colliding with the mattress below that easily took your weight and cushioned your fall. chan loomed above you, your eyes unable to look away from his, despite the audible sounds of his belt unbuckling, the sound alone making your breath hitch and mouth water. he shrugged his jeans off surprisingly seamlessly, making it look easy — which you were sure it was not. you stopped him before he got to his boxers, "i wanna do it," you were sheepish about it, sure, but you were more eager than coy; you'd swallow any pride for him.

chan lets you undress him, of course, watching you endearingly as you pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free and hit his stomach. you almost want to roll your eyes when you see it, because on top of being caring, and talented, and funny, he's got a gorgeously thick cock that you know no man or toy could ever replace. your hands cradle his hard shaft, unable to fully hold it with one hand alone, your fingers a few millimetres away from touching your thumb. you drag your hands up and down the length of chan's cock, until his skin is glistening with his own arousal and every ounce of your body is screaming at you to let chan fuck you in desperation.

you felt his hand start at the curve of your calf, fingers dipping into the inside of your knee, travelling higher to the silky skin of the inside of your thigh, rounding out at the dip of your hips, before finally brushing against your naked, wet slit. you hum in approval, your hips bucking to follow his touch and grind yourself onto his hand. chan's index finger starts at your entrance, moving higher to illustrate small, electrifying circles around your clit, swollen and puffy and sensitive from his touch. chan stopped as soon as he started, removing his hand from your sex and using both hands to wrap around your thighs, spreading them far apart from each other and letting them rest on both of his sides, caging him in. you hiked them up onto his waist, both legs wrapped around and pulling him into you.

soft lips collided with yours, chan's mouth tasted lustrous and sweet, like ambrosia on your tongue. he parts the kiss before he slinks into you, "wanna see your pretty face when i finally get to fill you up," he hissed all too eagerly, his eyes attentively watching every flutter of your eyelids, every gasp that falls out of your lips, every little movement you could possibly make; chan ensured he'd witness it, determined to see it as it really was, not as he imagined it to be — but to really, truly see you under him. he fantasised about this for months, a vision of you not too far away in his mind whenever he had his cock in his hands. your breath hitches when you feel his hot, hard cockhead press against your hole, but you have to draw in a breath when you feel him slowly inch inside of you. there's no discomfort when he enters you, just a dizzying, breathless, fullness. it makes your eyelids flutter closed, completely lost in the feeling, suspended in the moment of pure, unfiltered delirium that seemed to intensify every time chan sunk deeper into you.

he watches as your cunt swallows him whole, eyes wide with glee and dark with a carnal hunger. he has to hold in a sensual, sex-drunken groan when he watches your puffy slit swell from his cock buried under your skin, and with each eager ache of your cunt clenching ravenously around his cock he in turn feeds you more and more of himself. you can feel his bulbous, sopping wet head throb from within you, letting out a starstruck gasp when chan finally fills you to the brim, his hilt rubbing against your sopping wet clit and you cry, keen and write under him, gasping for air. "so fuckin' beautiful like this, you're taking me so, so well," chan gushed, his heart-fluttering words of praise almost sounding innocent if his language wasn't filthy, and if he wasn't practically moaning the words out.

scratch that — nothing about any of this is innocent. not even a morsel. chan's hips kiss your inner thighs, fucking you in brutally powerful, needy and erratic thrusts, skin snapping against yours, his cock filling you to his hilt each time, his head nudging your cervix and pouring his leaking precum into your hole, confident you can take it all. and it's the only thing you can do, repaying his more-than-satisfactory efforts by taking everything he generously gave you. how is that anything but sinful? he's getting close, you can tell, his hand clinging onto your waist so hard it burned, setting your nerves ablaze. you shudder when you feel your shared slick leak out from your hole, chan's filling cock leaving no room inside of you, consequently pushing it out and letting it smear your thighs and trickle slowly down your slit. your body moved on its own when it clenched around him, your stomach twitching each time your cunt milked chan's cock.

you squeal, you cry, you gasp out his name like he will save you, your legs tighten around his waist to pull him physically impossibly closer to you, as if he could get any closer to you, both of your bodies sweaty and skin sticking together. your arms wrap around his neck, fingers hooking into his skin like he'd slip out from underneath you. your voice is hoarse, your legs ache, your head is dizzy and your lungs are breathless, but he keeps going as if he has something to prove. you wail out chan's name, your eyes squeezing shut, ignoring all of your senses but one: touch, of course, lost in the sensation of the wanton licks of friction chan sparks between the both of you, each drag along the inside of your cunt pushing you further on the edge of mind-numbing bliss. your pulse echoes in your ears, your heartbeat thundering in your ribcage as your insides turn into mush, your limbs jellied and your body so, so exhausted.

chan bottoms out inside of you, pushing his entire cock into you so forcefully you're sure you'd fuse together, his hips stuttering and his mouth pouring out such a pornographic moan so erotic you're sure you combusted from his sounds alone. he's shameless. he's noisy. he's so fucking sexy he makes you want him all over again. he stills, and you can feel the way every atom in his body tenses as he fills you with his cum, so heavy and so warm, pouring himself into you. completely spent, you sigh chan's name as if it were a prayer, leaning into his touch and surrendering yourself completely to him. once he pulls out, you quite literally feel yourself gush with yours and his climaxes, spilling out of your entrance and down your legs, slowly and crudely dribbling onto your bedsheets below, likely already soaked with sweat.

you wait until chan lays down next to you, and you sluggishly, timidly crawl into his middle, resting your head above his heartbeat, still erratic and still winding down. his arm wrapped around your waist, his skin so much warmer compared to yours even now. chan's thumb affectionately stroked your clammy skin, all the while whispering into your hair, "just so you know, i'm not going anywhere."

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ratcatcher0325 · 2 years

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A Fraction of Justice (Size Switch AU)

What if Alexander and Natalie suddenly switched sizes?

This is just a fun little one off to explore these two and their dynamic a bit more. I promised you guys this, forever ago, for hitting a new follower milestone and now it’s finally here!

I have to thank a million times over @not-a-space-alien, @kitn-underfoot, @sizechaun, & @littlescaryinternetguy for beta reading for me and giving me some amazing feedback!

**Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list**

This is a size switch AU story of Alexander, a well-dressed, silver-tongued miniature person, who’s highly intelligent (perhaps, too much for his own good). He has aspirations of becoming the world’s tiniest lawyer. When he meets Natalie, will she help or hinder his progress?

Set in a universe where miniature people (around 5 inches tall) are kept as pets for the rich, this story follows one very tiny, academically minded man, who, after enduring abuse at the hands of the ignorant humans around him, becomes hell bent on finding a way to fight this oppression through the legal system. Will his case win out? He has to get humans to listen first. When he finds himself out allied with one, will she finally be the first to hear his message?

A mixture of fluff and angst, mature (Language, adult themes and violence) but SFW. This story uses the pet trope as a means to explore themes of overcoming trauma and fighting back against abuse, as well as learning to love oneself.

Word Count: 9,264 Read Time: Approx. 70 mins

CW: adult language, angst, fear play, dehumanization, non-sexual nudity

Tag list: @gatlily; @grbene; @patrocolus3; @beautifulunknowntrash; @titan-god-420; @andraimeide; @themarlo; @cup-o-chai; @lucentbliss; @raccoontoaster, @tolsizedlove; @not-a-space-alien; @thegodmother007; @honey-olive; @kitn-underfoot; @bittykimmy13; @littlescaryinternetguy; @pr-fae; @theangelofdusk; @sizechaun; @rubeau-art; @awkwardgtace; @jae-from-discord; @narrans;

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A Fraction of Justice: Not all that Blisters (Size Switch AU)

[Alexander’s POV]

I was lying prone on my stomach, deep in a tantalizing sleep. It was, in fact, some of the best sleep I’d gotten in some time. Natalie and I had been burning the candle at both ends helping her prepare for an upcoming exam. While she had retired to her bedroom around 3 am, I’d insisted on staying in the living room, surrounded by open tomes, and a tablet for doing research. I’d wanted to master one last sample case study before getting some rest myself.

Evidently, I’d passed out in that endeavor, no doubt splayed out on my stomach, lying on top of her open textbook. Not much for a bed in the comfort department, but nevertheless, come dawn, I was out cold. On a different morning than this one, I could imagine a better rested Natalie rubbing the sleep from her eyes and shuffling into the living room, ignited with inviting, golden, morning sun, only to wake me with her bemused chuckling, finding me unconscious, curled up on the surface of her book.

Instead, this morning was distinctly different.

There were no peals of uncontrolled laughter or the caressing of giant fingers on the crown of my head to wake me from my dreamless sleep. No, I was bolted awake, instead, as I shuffled my leg slightly. One small shift of my weight and I was greeted with a sudden, heart stopping CRASH of a hardback colliding with the wood floor beneath. Had I been more awake, I would have questioned how on earth the shifting of my meager few ounces could have possibly made such a reaction happen. Since my brain did not have the capacity for such critical thinking in its unexpected and sudden state of consciousness, I instead grunted, snapping open my eyes as I pressed my palms into the ground beneath me, and lifted my head.

Like encountering a sudden step down when walking, my hands were jarred by feeling a variance of textures beneath them. Instead of the consistent, flat surface of the page I was expecting, my hands rested on the rough edges of paper, and the fabric of the couch, which seemed suddenly much more pliable beneath my weight than I’d previously remembered. Similarly, as feeling returned to the rest of my body, I was shocked to find myself lying on what felt like all manner of other books and fabric.

Incapable of understanding what I was feeling, my eyes adjusted to the painfully bright light of the unfiltered morning sun. I squinted, shielding my sensitive irises and blinking rapidly. Slowly, the world came into sharp focus.

Why is the arm of the couch so close? I could’ve sworn when I’d surrendered to sleep I’d been at least two feet (in human measurements) from the wall it created compared to my little body. Now, my nose was so near to bumping it I could feel the tickle of its fibers on the sensitive nerve endings. In fact, as I raised my trunk to greet this corner of the living room (the same space in which I’d first found myself when Natalie had accidentally brought me inside) everything seemed somehow different? Smaller? Was I experiencing delirium from pushing myself too hard these last few days? Tucking my left leg under me to try and sit up, I felt all manner of obstacles shifting beneath my weight. That’s the first time I looked down. I couldn’t believe what my eyes were undeniably showing me.

I was not just lying on the singular textbook. No. The pages that used to stretch on and on around me, each about four times as large as my whole body, were now dwarfed by my outstretched palms. Two hands side by side could cover the surface of a page with ease. My heart stopped. No way!!! This couldn’t be possible. It was simply, logically, out of the question. Wasn’t it?!? Beneath my legs, other books, the tablet, the cushions of the couch, all of these were touched by my outstretched form. My entirely nude form.

Then, down below on the surface of the textbook, a wrinkled scrap of multicolored fabric caught my eye. Reaching down, I pinched it between a thumb and forefinger, raising it to eye level. Adrenaline coursed through my nervous system as blood pounded in between my ears. It was undeniable. I laid it out in the palm of my hand. It was ripped apart along all the seams, but the front was still somewhat in tact. That damn unicorn decal, sickeningly cheery as ever, was now half the size of my thumbnail.

Somehow, inextricably I was…. Human sized.

My heart soared as I bounded to my feet, rocked by this completely different perspective. Everything was so pathetically small. As I stood, I couldn’t help ducking my head, as though I was large enough to collide with the ceiling itself.

To any human, I was now unremarkably normal. To me, I felt like a giant. Furniture that had once towered over me like empty monuments of wood, fabric and metal to the prestige and supposed superiority of humankind, now seemed laughably unimpressive. As I turned my head, I could take in so much more of the room at once, with effortless ease. Gazing back down at the mess of clutter left scattered across the couch, I bent at the waist and with a thrilling rush, actually picked up a book for the first time in my life.

Cradling its spine in my right hand, I leafed through pages with nothing but a tiny bit of pressure from my fingers. My face felt warm as my heart thundered away. The tome I couldn’t have pushed an inch if I’d put my back into it, was now an insignificant weight in my palm. I felt a catch in my throat. Was this what it felt like to occupy a world that was built to accommodate you?

I turned over my shoulder to look at the potted rose bush, still sitting before the window by the front door, just as Natalie had set it down that day I was tangled in its branches. Setting the book down, I limped over until I was standing before it. The whole plant that I had once hidden inside of, now barely came up past my thighs. It was disorienting seeing these things from such a different perspective. So many tiny details of the plant faded and blurred from this new vantage point. I made my way back to the couch, sitting down on it properly for the first time in my life, I picked up a book again. Still thrilled by the sensation of being able to do so.

Before I could delve too much more into my emotions, however, the sound of an alarm clock blaring from across the apartment pricked my ears. Natalie! For a moment I’d forgotten her completely. But now, I realized with embarrassment, I was sitting, stark naked in her home. I needed to alert her to this miraculous change!

I wouldn’t begin to batter my brain with the impossible implications of how this had come to be…. Not yet. I would indulge in the pure ecstasy of it having happened first. Tucking the book under one arm, clutching the pathetic little scrap of fabric that had once fit over my whole body and snatching up a throw pillow to cover myself, I took steps towards Natalie’s bedroom.

The vertigo of walking through this space was akin to arriving on land after weeks at sea. The disorientation was nausea inducing. My body, mind, and senses were all adjusting to a very different world all at once. I caught my shoulder on the threshold of the kitchen from the living room, as I heard Natalie snooze her voice activated alarm. Well, I couldn’t hear her voice but the tinny buzzing had ceased. I stopped for a moment before the pantry door, pushing it open with light pressure from the back of my hand.

The motion-censored light ignited with a distinguishable click as I stood there, gawking at the very same structure I had fought so dutifully to climb, injuries and all. Where I had been found by her. Loomed over by her. Picked up and manhandled. Where I had bit her and she’d dropped me. All of that had taken place in this cramped, dusty little hole of a pantry? No wonder she’d chuckled when she watched me cling for dear life to the edge of the shelf that, at the time, felt so impossibly high. Now, that same white wooden slat didn’t even rise past my shin. I palmed the stupid little doll shirt again, utterly amazed.

Shaking it off, I ventured forward, toward Natalie’s room. Pressing into her partially closed door, I whispered sharply, unsure if she’d tried to go back to sleep, “Natalie! You wont believe this!” It was still loud enough that it should have caught her half conscious attention.

Pushing the door open, I could now see into the room: the comforter undulating in peaks and valleys that would have been climbable only last night. But as I scanned the full breadth of the mattress, I saw no shock of dark, wavy hair. No olive arms or feet peeking out from between the cascading sheets. The bed, as far as I could tell, appeared to be empty.

“N-Natalie? Are you awake?” Perhaps she was in the bathroom? I didn’t want to startle her if she needed her privacy. I was, after all, now the size of a human man just standing, barely covered in her most private space. I wondered with a thundering heart what it would be like to behold her, human to human. Would she be shorter than me? Given the average differences between male and female bodies, it was highly likely. The thought made me chuckle in spite of myself. Still, when I turned to look, the bathroom light was off and the door was only cracked by a quarter. My brow furrowed. Where was she? I called out again, suddenly worried for a reason I couldn’t clearly articulate.

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

I groaned, feeling pissed and immediately in a ticked off mood. How could someone so little be so fucking loud all of a sudden?

Up until a few minutes ago, I’d been totally conked out, warm and so, so comfortable in bed. When my alarm went off, I didn’t even bother opening my eyes. The world could wait. I needed sleep, goddammit! I’d just settled back in to catch some more Z’s when Alexander started vying for my attention.

Last I knew, he’d been in the living room. It’d made me sad to go to bed without him near but I knew what picking fights over stuff like that would get me, so I shut up about it. I wanted to spare myself the earful. After retiring to bed, I’d just assumed he’d fallen asleep on the couch. Come morning, I was looking forward to sleeping in for a little longer before waking him up with the smells of breakfast.

Instead, here he was whispering louder than I thought possible for someone with the lung capacity of a mouse. Also, how had he managed to crawl into my bed to be so near me in the first place? That was the only reason I could explain to myself why his voice seemed to be so much louder than I was used to. I wondered, with a sluggish mind, if the comforter had trailed close enough to the floor and he’d climbed up. Honestly? That’s impressive, little man! You just really wanna be close to me all of a sudden? That thought made me happy. But then his voice seemed to boom directly overhead, which, how? I clamped my eyes shut, rolling over and groaning. Be quiet, Alexander!

“Natalie?? Natalie where— oh….”

Before I could ask him nicely to shut the fuck up if it wasn’t an emergency, cold air rushed all around me and light suddenly flooded in, as though the roof had been ripped off of the building. What the fuck?!

Utterly confused, I shot up, eyes adjusting from their groggy state. When my vision came to, all I could see looming over me, backlit from the sun filtering in through my windows behind was… a… a… MONSTER!!!

It was something… vaguely person shaped but too big…. much much too big for that to be possible. My mind was unable to reason, unable to problem solve or think rationally. I could not comprehend that the familiar voice I’d just heard and this monstrosity, this silhouetted something were one and the same.

The second I laid eyes on whatever it was, I screamed at the top of my lungs and scrambled to get as far away as I possibly could. Barely able to rise to my feet on the surface of the confusingly unsteady sheets, I suddenly realized it wasn’t just the monster that was huge.. so was my bed! My attempts to stand resulted in me taking in the oceanic scale of my mattress, which seemed to stretch onward all around me: the wrinkles in the sheets, like undulating but motionless waves.

I trembled, also recognizing that I was completely naked, the folds of my pajamas now rising and falling beneath my feet. I was shivering from head to toe, but wether that was from cold or pure fear, I couldn’t tell. My limbs were quaking against my will, as I felt a tightening in my chest. It was nearly impossible for me to focus on any one thing for any period of time, my head was on fire and my eyes twitched, trying to take in the sheer monstrous scale of everything around me. My bedroom ceiling soared above me in some atmospheric blur, the walls Ising in the distance like some man-made Grand Canyon. I shook my head wishing I could block all of this out. As my heart thundered against my ribcage, I couldn’t take this feeling of being trapped and in mortal danger like some frightened little animal, I scrambled as fast as I could, falling all over myself, when I heard a voice, distant but all too loud, crash into my ear drums.

“Woah, woah Natalie! Calm down! It’s just me…” as the words rattled my skull, an inky shadow like some carnivorous bird of prey circling overhead, cast out the light above me as a palm came crashing down directly in my path. I tried my best to halt and turn on my heel but ended up colliding directly with the wall of flesh.

Caught with nowhere to run, I pressed into his palm, pathetically attempting to cover myself as I craned my neck high, high above, while the voice continued, “…It’s Alexander.” I could feel his chuckle reverberate through his palm that I was now stuck to like an insect on flypaper, “You don’t recognize me?”

My heart stuck in my throat. It was him. Those piercing blue eyes were unmistakable. But he was huge!!! So completely, overwhelmingly huge! His bare chest rose and fell to the tide of his breathing. I couldn’t wrap my brain around how big each of those lungs had to be. He was almost silhouetted by the light from the window but I could see his sharp jaw, his cascading bangs, his furrowed brow and tense lips. Fuck, fuck fuck! I was so small now, so defenseless and vulnerable. For so long Alexander had wanted to tear me limb from limb for condescending to and manhandling him. Well… now he could if he wanted to. I shook from head to toe, trapped with nowhere to run.

*******

She cowered against me. I had no idea what to do with her. She was clearly quite frightened. Welcome to every day of my entire life. I’d had this fantasy a million times in my rage-addled brain: I’d pored over just how to get back at her for the million infuriating moments she’d made for me in my time here. Let’s see how you’d like it being bandied about and dropped and trapped and prodded all day long. For going on decades now, I had thirsted for power over those who’d mistreated me.

My gaze fixed on her outstretched hand, pressing firmly into the flesh of my palm. Bending a bit at the waist, I reached towards her with inquisitive fingers. She screamed when I pinched her wrist between finger and thumb, but I hardly noticed. I was fixated on the limb I now held captive. So small. Is this what I had been? Is this what I looked like to them? To humankind? With bones so tiny and delicate it looked like a stiff wind could break them? Her entire cranium was no larger than the pad of my index. Her outstretched hand, one I had been held in countless times, now hardly stretching over a nail bed. I heard nothing but the blood pounding in my own ears as I marveled at how inexplicably strange this all was.

“ALEXANDER! PLEASE!! You’re hurting me!!” I snapped to, looking down to see I still had her wrist trapped between my fingers, and that in my analysis of her newfound form, I had, absentmindedly, lifted her off of the surface of the bed. She weighed practically nothing at all! She was twisting and writhing, face a bright red, her toes desperately searching for the ground just fractions of a millimeter out of reach. She was staring directly at me. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and in that moment, staring at the form of this woman that I held aloft with the greatest of ease, I felt a weight drop into the pit of my stomach.

What am I doing??? Blood rushing to my face I lowered her down, gently releasing my grip. She snatched her hand away immediately, cradling her wrist in her other hand. She stared daggers into the fabric of the sheets before her.

“Natalie, I—“

But before I could begin my apology, her face twisted into a grimace and she suddenly started to cry and shout. "P-please, if you’re going to hurt me just do it quickly… I know you’re angry. You’re always so fucking angry. Well, looks like you got what you wanted… s-so, have at it, enjoy your… p-power over me…”

My heart of stone softened. “I don’t want to hurt you. Natalie?” With a trembling finger, I touched the tip of her chin. She jumped and I sought her eyes. “I promise I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

Her eyes shimmered with still more tears. “D-did you do this, somehow? Make us trade places? To show me how awful it is??” Her voice was shaking as she asked the question.

I felt a twinge in my chest, but I couldn’t name the precise feeling. "No! No!! I have no idea how this happened! I swear to you. You’re giving me far more credit than I deserve. I’ve studied law not quantum physics… well, I’ve studied a little… just a few theorems….” I saw the slightest twitch out of the corner of my eye as she dipped her head, clearly, disinterested. I swallowed, recovering, while I reached for her pajama shirt and draped it around her bare shoulders. She was nowhere close to fitting in it now, “Ahem, anyway…. I’ve no hypothesis as to how this happened. It seems impossible. Perhaps it is some strange hallucination. But in any case, I’m not planning to harm you. Have you been infuriating, at times, during our journey together so far? Yes. But you managed, in spite of yourself, to keep me alive so…. That’s the least I can do for you. After all, it’s only fair!”

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

Way to be fucking encouraging. Was I supposed to be thankful he’d decided I deserved to live? I found I did believe him when he said he wasn’t trying to hurt me. That was at least one less thing to lose my mind over. I pulled the thick, scratchy fabric tighter around me. How had he survived like this for all of his life? It’d been approximately ten minutes and I was ready to throw myself off the edge of the bed. I wiped my tear stained cheeks with the back of my hand. Maybe this was all just a bad dream and I’d wake up any second and we could laugh about this while he lounged in my cupped palm.

“You’re still upset.” It was a statement not a question. I clenched my jaw, straightening my spine and glaring up at him.

“Yes, you emotionally immature dumbass, I’m still upset. Whoopdie fuckin’ do, you can open doors and pick up books now. Great for fucking you. Meanwhile, my entire world has been ripped away from me and turned upside down.” He said nothing, but the lines on his face told me everything he was thinking. This was what he’d been ranting and railing about non-stop since I’d found him in the pantry. I sighed, acquiescing, “I’m sorr—“

“I’m sorry. Truly. I’m very rarely wrong, so I mean it genuinely. I was so wrapped up in my own improved circumstances, it was hard to remember the fear that you must be experiencing. I’m sorry, Natalie, for frightening you.” His face flushed suddenly. He cleared his throat, before extending a finger towards me, the underside turned upwards. I stiffened. The digit stopped just short of my personal space, “Forgive me for my ignorance?” It was my turn to blush, I reached out with a cautious hand and squeezed the tip of his proffered finger.

“You’re forgiven. For now.” My hand rested on his finger. I could feel the thrum of his pulse, strong, steady. That made my own heart quicken its pace. Each ridge in the pad was distinct. It was overwhelming at this size how much more detailed every minuscule thing became!!

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

I exhaled air from my nostrils, incapable of keeping my baffled thought from being spoken aloud, “Was I really this small to you?” She had been staring at the stark contrast of her outstretched hand over just the tip of my finger, but now cast her flustered gaze askance.

“Y-yes. You were so….” Sh stumbled, trying to find the words.

“…Infinitesimally delicate…” I breathed.

“I was just gonna say cute… but… yeah.” Now she was the one laughing. I stared at her with a curious, questioning gaze, “How the fuck did you have the courage to bite me at this size?? You’re fucking terrifying.” She shoved playfully at my finger. I couldn’t deny the smirk playing on my lips

“You deserved it.” I meant that in earnest.

“I know.” She replied with equal conviction.

“I deserve it too after the fright I gave you. Eye for an eye as they say….” Half joking, half in earnest truth, I brought my upturned index finger to just before her lap, “You can return the favor now, if you’d like…”

She burst into immediate laughter, “What the fuck??? I’m not gonna bite you!” She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow as she continued to chuckle, “What do you take me for? A dirty little rat who can’t control his animal instincts?”

“You’re still on that, are you? You do realize I could, now, easily take that as an invitation to imprison you in a glass bowl!”

She scoffed, rising to her feet, the fabric of her pajama shirt she was using to cover herself tucked beneath her arms, thrusting her chin defiantly in the air, “You wouldn’t have the balls!”

It was my turn to raise a brow, I was certainly never one to back down from a challenge.

“Is that so?” As she opened her mouth to quip back, I quickly gripped her torso, fabric and all, between a thumb and forefinger, lifting her into the air, as I straightened my spine and stood, holding her just before my eyes, “I tend to take questions of my ability rather seriously, Ms. Marquez.” My gaze met hers, and I immediately felt a wave of adrenaline crash through me.

Instead of the confident smile of the woman I’d come to know who always seemed to hit back when it came to verbal swordplay, her eyes were almost popping out of their sockets, her heart was thundering wildly against my thumb, her whole body trembled as she squirmed uncomfortably. She was so… small. I was hardly applying any pressure at all, yet she was utterly powerless to break my grip. As she struggled, she made the mistake of peering past my fingers, taking in just how high off the ground she currently was. She immediately cried out, fighting with all her might against me.

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

THIS WAS TERRIFYING. All in a breathtaking rush, I went from relying on my own two feet, to being whisked into the air, pressure all around my ribcage as I found myself suddenly, before his eye. An eye that was as big as my whole head. I could count every sandy eyelash, every slight wrinkle around the corners. I could feel his breath on me. This was far and above too much for me to handle. Why wouldn’t he let me go? Didn’t he see how scared I was? I couldn’t help remembering, with a pang of guilt, how many times he’d protested against my fingers, heart fluttering against my skin, and I’d simply laughed at him. I had no clue it felt like this.

I continued to push and writhe. In my desperate attempt to free myself, I caught the mattress out of the corner of my eye. I did a double take. It looked like I was suspended on the very ledge of a ten story building! A building which happened to be made of a male chest, abs and hips, in one impossible wall before me. My head was pounding as I struggled to get oxygen to my lungs. I couldn't help it, I was starting to hyperventilate. I squirmed even more, tears pricking my eyes as all this went completely ignored. What was wrong with him? My vision dipped to black and that was the final straw.

“P-put me down! P-please! Put me down, NOW!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t drop—“ it was almost a light chuckle, as if my reaction was somehow funny to him.

“ALEXANDER PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. He did as he was told without a moment’s hesitation, crouching before the edge of the mattress, his chin resting on the bedspread. I collapsed, my legs like Jell-O. I couldn’t breathe.

“Natalie, you seem to be taking this rather hard, are you quite alright?” Fingers seemed to grow in size as they bore down closer and closer.

“D-DON’T! Don’t touch m-me! I need… I need a minute, please!” I was curled up into a ball, running my fingernails along my scalp like some pet bird ripping out its own feathers from stress. That’s all I was now, wasn’t I? I shuddered.

This was never something I’d had to really think about. It’s not like I ever had to worry about being in this situation. But now? As tears cascaded down my cheeks, and my breath caught in my throat I finally, really understood the source of Alexander’s anger. I was breaking after fifteen minutes, yet he’d lived his whole life this way. I hastily wiped my face with the thick scratchy shirt, each of its stitches incredibly distinct.

Through watery eyes, I looked up at the man who had once wrapped himself easily around my thumb, now towering above me, his head propped up on a fist. His striking blue eyes shimmered, his brow furrowed with concern. For once in his life he was silent. He blinked rapidly when my eyes met his. “I… I didn’t know being picked up felt… like that. No wonder you chewed me out for it every time….” He shifted his arm slightly and I could feel the ricochet effect through the surface of the mattress, to me. It made my heart skip a beat. Even his absent-minded motion was impossible for me to ignore. Tears swelled in my eyes again as I began to feel utterly overwhelmed by it all.

I opened my mouth to continue when he suddenly blurted out, “I’m rather famished. Are you?” I blinked, shaking my head. This wasn’t what I was expecting him to say. It definitely pulled me out of my sad sack, pity party.

“W-what?” I mumbled.

“I’m hungry. I assume you are, too. I don’t exactly have much… Well, to be precise, any culinary experience… I thought, perhaps, you might be willing to tutor me?” I couldn’t help but notice the subtle change in the color of his cheeks. He ran a hand through his cascading hair. My shoulders relaxed from my ears a little as my heart soared. Awwwww, he was trying, for me! He was doing his best to comfort me.

“Okay, but… it’s not my fault if you fuck it up because you won’t listen to me or follow directions.” I teased.

“I am a great follower of directions when I choose to be, thank you!”

“Oh, so up until this point you’ve been ignoring me and pissing me off by choice?” I felt a weight lifting off of my shoulders. Everything was far from fine, but it was okay to have a moment of fun. For the first time since I’d woken up, this felt… familiar.

“If you have to ask me, I evidently was doing a very poor job of making that explicitly clear.” He smirked, his eyes bright. I’d never seen eyes quite that blue before. It was like they glowed. He paused for a moment, I could see a new idea flashing behind his gaze, “I’ve no desire to hurt you, Natalie. You’ve now found yourself in a stress-inducing, highly demoralizing position. Far be it from me to add to that any further. You have been rather irritatingly flippant towards me in the past, but I am not so emotionally compromised that I intend to seek revenge for past wrongs. You know what it’s like now, and I think that’s more than enough. I don’t want you to fear me, despite all appearances and history to the contrary, I am capable of some degree of compassion.” I swallowed. I had no idea what to even say. I just sort of stared, wide-eyed as he stood to his full height. I found it necessary to swallow again.

Towering like a skyscraper, his half naked form dominated my whole point of view. Had I noticed he was ripped before? I didn’t think I’d noticed he was ripped before. Suddenly finding myself choking, I turned away, face burning hot.

“Ah…” He clicked his tongue, I still couldn’t bear to look up, “I… er… I need something to wear… May I—“

“Yup, uh huh… have an old pair of sweatpants in the bottom right drawer… Feel free to—“

“R-right, um, yes… I’ll just… walk over there…” He pushed himself away from the bed, and started to turn towards the dresser. Oh! Oh my god, he had a pillow for the front… but not the… I bit my lip and buried my head in my arms. I heard the scrape of wood as a drawer was opened, then a rustle of fabric. Not soon after, I could actually hear his individual footfalls on the carpet, like some giant out of a children’s cartoon.

He cleared his throat and I could tell he was standing before me again, “I, uh, I’m decent…” I swept the hair from my eyes as I craned my neck upwards. I almost burst out laughing. He’d managed to grab, not the pair I was thinking, but my stupid ass sweats from high school with bedazzled flowers. Without him having to turn around I knew stamped across the ass was the word “SEXY” in all caps. They were a white elephant gift and, sue me, I was a sentimental bitch. But I wouldn't be caught dead actually wearing them.

“Don’t, don’t you start…Natalie! Why? Why do you insist on continuing to insult me with the worst possible fashion choices one could possibly fathom in the darkest recesses of their mind??” They barely fit him, seeming to suffocate his waist. His face was bright red.

“Oh get over it, you big baby. At least you have something on, I’m just swimming in this!” I raised my arms to undulate the pajama shirt fabric.

“Be careful what you ask for, I’m sure you have the rest of those doll clothes lying around here, somewhere….”

I raised my hands defensively, shaking my head, “I yield the remainder of my time, your Honor.” Lawyer jokes. I was making lawyer jokes now? How else would he manage to ruin me???

***********

I laid the flat of my hand against the mess of sheets just before her reduced corpus. I watched as she sucked in a hesitant breath just as my skipping heart pounded out of its syncopated rhythm. Would she allow me to hold her? What an utterly remarkable reversal, me, holding someone between my cupped hands?? I never fathomed it could be possible. We stared at each other, neither breathing a word. Finally, determinedly, with that firm brow and cocked chin that she always displayed when she’d made up her mind about something, she tucked the fabric under her arm, and, took steps towards my hand. I smiled as the t-shirt was dragged behind her, looking like some pooling and elaborate train of a designer dress.

Gingerly, I pinched the fabric with my free, right hand, relieving her of the burden of dragging it herself. That’s when the flat of her bare foot pressed into my warm and waiting flesh and I almost gasped for air. What an almost indescribable feeling, to be a vessel for someone’s whole self. As much as it set part of my cerebrum on fire, I could begin to understand why humans wanted me trapped between their fingers so often. It was an experience unlike any other, tinged with uncertainty, strangely intimate, altogether wonderful. Rather quickly she found her way to sitting in the center of my palm, and I lifted her up to my eye-line. “Perhaps we can try this again?” I kept my voice low and soft.

“Perhaps we can.” She flashed her eyes up at me like some double confirmation. I stayed staring at the tiny woman nestled in my palm, buried under a mound of fabric: her hair, messy from sleep, cascading all around her. She reached out a hand, no bigger than my finger nail, and placed it firmly on the tip of my nose. I practically flinched. I didn’t know how I felt about all this sudden intimacy. I would have railed against such things before. She seemed to be encouraging it. What to make of that?

“This is… weird, right?” She broke the silence.

I cleared my throat trying my damndest not to move, “It certainly is unorthodox.”

“Food?” She guided me back to the task at hand.

“Yes, yes.” I took measured steps toward the kitchen, eyes glued to her. I knew being handled while walking could be a nauseating experience. She seemed fine, if not a bit overwhelmed by the sight of her own home towering around her.

Soon, I found myself before a cutting board, littered with vegetables, Natalie perched upon my bare shoulder. Why was I nervous hefting this kitchen knife? How hard could it possibly be?

“Dice it.” She commanded, matter-of-factly.

“… Mmm, yes, of course… I’m going to… do that… now…” Did I sound as utterly lacking in confidence as I felt?

Rich laughter poured from her small body, “You don’t know what dicing is??? You know property laws dating back to the late 70s, by heart, and you don’t know how to dice a tomato??” She was howling with laughter.

“Well! You make it sound—“ My cheeks flushed as I mumbled.

“Shut up , shut up, shut up, oh my fucking god this is funny. Put me on the cutting board. C’mon, chop, chop, the water’s gonna boil over by the time you get this done.” She was awfully demanding for one so little.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. How was she still pulling my strings like a puppet when I was ten times her size? Just because she was small, didn’t mean she still couldn’t find a way to get under my skin. I let her slide out of my loose fist and onto the board with a rotund, ruby red tomato, measuring the majority of her height, placed at its center.

“Okay… Alexander pay attention! You’re gonna cut it in half here.” I did so, seemingly much more nervous about her proximity to the knife in my hand than she appeared to be. “Then put the other half over there for now. Now, cut it along the curve like this.” She gestured broadly, using her whole body to demonstrate her meaning. I’ll admit, even while she was using me as the butt of her joke, her fully embodied commitment was rather endearing. We carried on like this. I managed to cut myself with the knife… twice. She told me it was because I lacked proper form. I wasn’t aware such a thing existed. She had me sautéing and basting and boiling in no time (not without almost constant laughter on her part). At one point she’d tried to convince me to don a frilly apron of hers with garish looking chickens and eggs patterned throughout, citing its convenient front pocket, but I managed to set a boundary on that one. After all, she could no longer force me to wear anything! I sort of relished in that freedom. I tried to ignore the rhinestones of my current pant situation as they sparkled in the oven overhead light.

After a period of pure torment that apparently was cooking, while I wiped sweat from my brow and nursed my cut fingers, we finally, blessedly, sat down to eat. “That was…. altogether unpleasant.” I groaned.

“Really? I had a great time!” She was stuffing her mouth, unapologetically. The action made me smile for some reason.

“Well of course you had a fine experience you didn’t have to do anything.” I teased.

“Dude, if I hadn’t Ratatouille’d the situation we’d be eating char for lunch.” She spat back. I stared at her numbly, “Ratatouille? You know? The Disney movie? With the rat? And the guy? The rat’s a chef?? Not ringin’ any bells for ya?”

“Sounds like a profoundly stupid film.” I was just being honest.

She stuck her tongue out at me. I shook my head.

“Whatever, when we switch back, I’m gonna make you watch a ton of Disney stuff just to laugh as you bitch about it.” She returned to her meal, unbothered by the sentence that hung in the air like a hangman’s noose in my mind’s eye. The food that had tasted heavenly on my tongue, now turned to bitter ash. My complexion waned.

“T-Turn back?” I practically choked on the words.

“Well, yeah. I mean whatever this is, it’s gotta be temporary right? If this was, like, a thing, you’d be hearing about it on the news. I mean, who knows? Maybe this is just one really fucking weird dream. Or we took acid and forgot? I dunno, I’m just saying, it’s not like this is forever….”

I swallowed but tasted nothing, feeling the pulse in my neck quicken. “Natalie, I understand this is…. Much less advantageous for you… but… I can’t go back. I’ve dreamt of nothing more than leading my life with dignity and… respect. I can walk out in the world with both, now.”

She stared at me, blinking once, “I don’t know that it’ll be up to us…” She mumbled under her breath, her words so quiet I had to strain to hear, “But… I… Come on, you know I can’t live like this.” Well, I’ve done it against my will my whole life, what makes you so special? “I mean.. I know it’s not really fair of me to complain to you, of all people, it’s just… I mean, Alexander, I have a family.” A knot stuck in my throat.

“Well, like you said, maybe we’ll have no say in the matter.” I forced a tasteless bite just to avoid the conversation. We didn’t speak for the rest of the meal, both of us suddenly weighed down by our respective heavy consciences, neither of us wanting to lose our autonomy.

Cleaning up was far more successful than the cooking had been, but there was no longer any banter. She sat where I had placed her, atop the microwave. She regarded the things nearby: the loaf of bread, the bag of clementines, a haphazardly re-wrapped portion of a chocolate bar, with utter disgust. All of these things, things that she had once been able to pick up with ease, were now looming over her, like stoic mockeries of her own pitiful size. I was painfully familiar with such a feeling. I felt badly for her, I truly did.

Once the kitchen was spotless, no easy feat given its usual calamitous clutter, I sort of stood there leaning against the counter, unsure what to do next. She was the one to break the silence, “Thanks for cleaning up. This is the best this kitchen’s looked in years…” She was trying her best to offer an olive branch.

“It was nothing. You know, I might be able to help with the rest of the apartment too, if you’ll let me.”

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

If I’d felt overwhelmed by cleaning before, the task seemed (and probably was) near to impossible now. I shrugged my shoulders. “My trash heap is your playground, go fuckin’ nuts.” I wasn’t one to turn down free help. As long as this isn’t how it’s always gonna be. Every time the panic-inducing thought slipped in, I chased it away. It’s just for now. It HAS to be just for now. I knew Alexander well enough by now to know that like a mouse with a cookie, giving him a challenge or a puzzle to solve was like a drug. He was beside himself. Was it normal to look at this giant of a man and still think he was laughably adorable?

We whiled away the rest of the afternoon and evening cleaning and reorganizing every nook and cranny. Well, he did most of that. To an absolutely asinine degree. He used a tape measure to make sure each book on the shelf was the same distance from the edge. He organized all my records by genre and release date. He rearranged my plants based on the trajectory of the sun through my windows. He even took the time to meticulously fold every item of clothing I had stuffed in my dresser.

Meanwhile, I managed to find something to entertain myself at each stage. I dug out an old handheld video game system, that had once easily fit between two cupped hands and now was a challenge just to hit the buttons. He chuckled softly at the beeps and tinny music coming from the outdated machine. I marveled at trying to use my computer now stretching on, the size of a movie theater screen. I tried writing my own name with a pencil and paper, only to come away with a page full of graphite squiggles and pretty sore arms.

By the time the work was done, it was well past midnight and we were both exhausted. His bangs pestered his eyes as he collapsed on the floor by the bed, having set me down on the edge, I peered down at him while he caught his breath. He leaned his head back and rolled toward me, peering up at where I sat. Seeing those bright blue eyes gazing up at me over brows and messy curtained hair, I felt my spine straighten. If I squinted, it was almost like he was little again, craning his neck to meet my gaze. His voice warm and all-consuming, broke me of my thoughts.

“Is it time to retire for the night? I, for one, am exhausted and my leg is killing me.” He grumbled, I nodded. I’d forgotten about his unhealed injury. He’d been going without complaint all day and I couldn’t exactly see it from my limited vantage point, I’d forgotten that he was still hurt. “Do you need anything?” I shook my head no. He started for the door, “Goodnight, then—“ Where was he going?

“Wait!” My tone sounded a little too small and needy for my liking. I cleared my throat, “Uh, I mean… Don’t you think we should sleep near each other just, you know, in case?” I saw his lips press into a thin line. Being reminded of the sheer possibility that he could wake up without this new body seemed to distress him greatly, so much so, that I felt guilty for bringing it up. Still, I didn’t want to be left all alone in this giant bed all by myself. Alexander may have loved his personal space, but I kind of wanted to be looked after right now. He nodded curtly, as he took steps towards the bed. He hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure how to make this less intimate than it already clearly was. I shuffled over to the pillow on the opposite side. He did his best to slip under the sheets without disturbing the mattress too much.

Then, much to my fascination and delight, I found myself lying on my side, face to face, eye to eye with him. I reached out and with a chilly hand, pressed my palm into the bridge of his nose. He blinked, while sucking in air. I couldn’t help smiling. “No matter how big you are, you’ll always be my little nightmare…” a smirk curved his lips as his left hand shifted from where it lay on the bed. Slowly, cautiously, a finger tip approached, and very lightly brushed my hair aside. Where his fingertip touched, my skin was abuzz with electricity. My heart skipped a beat and I held my breath. As though he were waking from a dream and suddenly found himself an inch from my body, his eyes widened and he mumbled, “G-goodnight, Natalie” and then promptly rolled over. I shook my head to hide my smile. This poor boy needed to learn it was okay to express feelings other than pure rage.

I rolled over to face him, and speaking to the back of his head, I wished him a goodnight, before drifting off to sleep.

I awoke softly at first, seemingly on my own for no particular reason. I could feel the slight draft of air tickle my body as I shuffled a bit in bed. That’s when I heard it. Almost impossible to place at first, so soft it almost blended with the mechanical drone of the air-conditioning, the sound of someone crying. Not someone, of course, Alexander.

I knew before I even opened my eyes. My heart sank. Feeling a tightening in my own throat, I met the pristine morning light with heavy, sleep-ridden eyelids. Rolling over my shoulder in my perfectly proportioned bed, I saw him, curled up against the farthest corner of my pillow, hunched over, his shoulders hitching with each wracking sob. As I adjusted myself in bed to see him, I watched his spine tense, as he froze, casting a glance behind him. The face I saw was the most pitiable, splotchy and tear-stained countenance of a man who’d lost everything in the stroke of one unexplainable night. When he landed his gaze on me, his eyes brimmed with fresh tears, as he painfully choked out these few words:

“I was so close. I had everything I’ve ever wanted for a day. One pathetic day. And now… I’m… back to nothing.” Without hesitation or self consciousness, he rose to standing and crossed to me, I quickly gathered him in my hands and held him close to my heart. I stroked his trembling shoulders with the pad of my thumb.

“Don’t talk like that. It’s not true.”

He scoffed, pushing himself away from my skin to look me dead in the eye, “Oh really? How should I talk about it then? Shall I rejoice in being dependent on people forever? Shall I jump for joy that I will never be taken seriously? That I have no control over my own destiny? The world is actively hostile to people like me. I’ve no means to self-actualize like this. Not because I’m not capable, but because your society won’t give me the chance. But, no, you’re right, let me see if I can arrange for a fireworks display to celebrate this momentou—“ Gingerly, I placed the pad of my index finger over his lips.

“Hush! Alexander? You aren’t nothing. You’re dead wrong about that. You, my little nightmare, are everything to me. Do you realize I would be flunking out of law school right now if it weren’t for you? Hell, you just spent the last twenty-four hours taking care of me when I needed it most. You inspire me every day to work harder and rise to my fullest potential. And yeah, okay, sure, you may need a little help getting around and you’re never gonna suck less at cooking, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you are brilliant…. And I know I don’t have to tell you that twice. I’m pretty sure you enjoy telling me as often as you can manage. If anyone is going to wrangle life into submission and take control of his own future, it's you. Little or no…” I trailed off as I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he chuckled and shook his head, bitterly. What had I said wrong? My face burned.

“Is that all I am? A pocket-sized aide, turned miniature tutor?” When his gaze returned to mine, his eyes were blazing blue.

“You know that’s not what I meant…”

“Isn’t it though? All you humans care about is what I can do and be for you. How I can entertain you and fulfill some niche set of tasks—“

“Now, hang on. I admit, that was a poor choice of words. But give me a little more credit, here. I’m not like that shitty lawyer you had to put up with from before. I understand empathy and, maybe in spite of your low opinion of me, I can learn from my mistakes, okay?”

He sighed, squirming a bit inside my hand. He cast his gaze askance while he blinked once, twice, three times, considering my argument, “I just… I’m so beleaguered by this approximation of my worth to what duties I perform.” He squeezed the flesh of my palm in frustration.

“I understand that, completely,” I encouraged, while he simply scoffed in response, “Well, I mean I know I don’t get it, exactly, but I can empathize, okay? Stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy when I’m trying, here. I just want you to know that I… I… don’t… you know, I don’t, uh… hate you…” I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling quite flushed, “What I mean is, I’m not out to get you. I’m grateful for all the ways you help me, but I don’t expect it and I’m doing everything I can think of to help you in return. I know you think I’m a fucking idiot, and, I dunno, maybe I am in some ways, but I’m an idiot who’s got your back. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’ll still be here even after you piss me off for the five thousandth time this week.” He cracked a ghost of a smile at that. There you are behind that prickly exterior.

“You humans are extremely difficult to train. I hope you can appreciate what an uphill climb it was to even arrive at this destination,” He leaned back, allowing his weight to be supported by my curled fingers, an act of relaxation he almost never indulged in. I felt my heart skip a beat as I felt the warmth of his body ignite the sensitive nerves on my fingertips. He continued, “I suppose I don’t hold you in utter contempt, either. Perhaps having some support won’t be as burdensome and infuriating as I previously hypothesized.” He swept his bangs from his eyes, “While most of your earlier statement was, frankly, offensive, you were correct in your assertion: I am rather brilliant aren’t I?” He flashed me a winning smile and arched his brow.

“Oh fuck off! You’re not guilt tripping me and fishing for compliments at the same time! No, I’m not playing your stupid game! God, you’re such a little nightmare! I mean you’ve been through a lot, I know, but, jeez, Alexander! You don’t know how to turn it off, do you?”

“Even at night, the sun shows itself by the glow of the moon…”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re unbearable! Forget I said anything at all to try and cheer you up. Now I’ve gotta suffer through the consequences of my own actions! Ay, dios mio, what have I done?” I placed the tip of my index finger on his bent, left knee and shook it ever so slightly. Enough to demonstrate my pretend frustration without actually jostling his body.

He was beaming by the time I finished, “I’ll make sure you’re spared when the revolution comes. You turned out to be less wholly insufferable than I’d first surmised, Ms. Marquez.”

“And that’s as close to a compliment as I’m going to get from you, I am sure.” He laughed. I adored that little laugh. “Let’s go back to sleep and ignore the world for a few more hours, how does that sound?”

“Honestly? Rather ideal.”

“May I hold you in my hand for you to rest in?” I felt his hands reflexively tighten on the skin of my palm. He thought for a moment before releasing a breath he had been holding.

“Yes, you may.”

For the first time since I’d known him, he allowed me to hold him closely, head resting on the pad of my finger, as he curled up over my beating heart. As I closed my eyes and began to drift, I heard a muffled voice.

“I suppose I’m really not getting rid of you am I?”

“Not unless you kill me… Wait…Don’t, don’t get any ideas, okay? Somehow of anyone I feel like you could figure out how to kill a human and get away with it.”

He laughed, wriggling to get more comfortable in my featherlight grip, “Hm. I suppose I’ll let you live to see the light of another day…Goodnight, Natalie.” And then, I could have sworn I felt just the smallest amount of pressure and dampness against my finger. Almost as if a pair of tiny lips were kissing it goodnight. But maybe it was just wishful thinking.

After the day we’d had, who knew just what was real anymore?

#What if lady smol and man big?#A Fraction of Justice #oc:alexander #oc:natalie #g/t related #g/t community #g/t au #giant/tiny #g/t writing #size switch au #gt community

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the-firebird69 · 1 month

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Worlds Strongest Man 1992, Gregg Ernst WR 70m 410lb Husafell Stone carry

youtube

I had to move here and he was clever about it said that's the heaviest Rock I've ever lived in it must be dense. And he went on to say I've never seen it like that and he left and we waited and said where's this way so much we do about it but I can see what he's saying and he said that's good what are we going to do trying to work now they're downstairs they said they're out there on Saturn that's the big fellows. Foreigners and Max is it good how that happened it's a disaster and still around like 25% of population and you guys are still around decent amount he says wow that sounds good yes just a little bit much for young guy. He said to him he's trapped here between you can't and we can't and we can't and he said that's not something that's the way it is and bad so he has an idea and we power lifters lift the weight and he be doing that we decide to do this to show what he's talking about some people know about it and it's educational and some people need more information so you go up to that facility and you have to get permission to wheel in this equipment and to put it on to their concrete and it was his family's place but the person who runs it is then Arnold then Arnold and we think that he would and the idea is you take the it's like a special Patty and you put it on the concrete and you have bigger plates of course but they wouldn't look too big and he would lift them after having people come up and test each plate and they carry each plate and he would push them tight each time and then you have a routine and the jokes and stuff my son loves to joke and we like it he's not an animal but sometimes he acts funny cuz he's so young but we like it because he is fooling around and he knows it and he'd say well that was it and that's how much weight I can move this other people doing it for me. And he'd be pretty big and when he's standing alone he would look like slightly bulky bill but when people are next to him he would look like a giant and it would be frightening so it's enough in the back a little and have them lift the weights I didn't think about it he is smiling it'll be fun and he lift the weights and he would put them tight some of them and he would do the routine and lift the entire bar and people will be in awe because it would be a lot of weight he was saying maybe 2,000 pounds clean and jerk it then he says all together and the plates would weigh a lot okay maybe like 100 lb cuz you need like 20 plates and the thing would look enormous so they need to have the crowd come up four or five people and try and lift it and then be pretty big after a Time these guys are teeny they're 5 ft even Tommy f both up bolt would be about 5 ft 8 and they would not be able to lift it even with four or five of them on the bar that's how many could fit inside then you call more people and then you get about 10 people and he thinks that they can't lifted and it's only a ton and it's true they would not be able to lift it so it's a okay I'm just checking and then put a jack on it and we can have him jack it up but still that's not really good he says you just lift it again and a couple times and then throw it down and that's the part there's interesting because this other stuff is kind of just fluffy is what Max said after you came up with the idea when he throws it down it's 2,000 lb and it's going to be a point load at some point and concrete can take a lot but that is a lot of weight coming down that far it's about the weight of a small car nowadays not a tiny car it would be like a Corolla and your point load would be several inches by 1 inch * 2 so be spread out a little bit but really that's a lot of weight and it thinks it might break the concrete and they wanted to cuz they want to see what's underneath so they would check and try and dig it out and they'd have them set up in a different spot and it'd be investigating the place idea that is that that is the idea

Thor Freya

It's a good idea it's giving me a lot of stress I can't believe that you've had this idea right now it's amazing and I think that you're right we need to try and figure more stuff out it's one way to do it and we do other renovation work as an excuse we use that and maybe threats to pay to have you pay for it but we'd sign a waiver and then there's a place there's a couple of places like that and this one inside we have to use actual dumbbells and he says they have a screw on clamps or even ones with set screws that's way too much weight for it to be loose and I do understand what you're saying there's they're really really too heavy those we probably just have a thin pad and you drop them and you get paid more for how high you drop it and I see what you're saying you could do like some presses and if you curls and drop them for a fact and have some people come out and maybe Brad might be able to lift it but drop it and just say maybe probably like 400 lb each and I'm at all that's a lot of weight it's like when I'm 6'4 I think and they said yeah. So they want to do it and it'll be interesting and it'll be like the circus and we have a fake mustache shaved head or a fancy haircut and we have a hairdresser, grow back pretty quick. And it says big and then be like nervous and I mean it too your head will be bigger and people get nervous cuz they eat meat usually and since you don't get big by getting sick and they really would like it so this is an idea and to wear that outfit would be way too intense but it'll be more fun than anything even an artificial one would put people over the loop it was a crazy man and much liked for it and not liked either but wow that would be big okay you'll be a big guy and you'd have to hang out with people you know I understand that too cuz you can't go around with people you do nothing or turn on your stuff like that so I'm trying to set that up it says I'm not really ready yet we get that LOL

Ben Arnold

It would be good for a comedy routine but we don't want to do that we can come back bigger that's not too good maybe a Comic-Con it's a good idea this is a great idea he has some good ideas but this is great

Mac daddy

I'm up for seeing that and try to spy I want to see what it is and I want to see if they can find and people go nuts trying to look

Jet li

It's me bo long it was fairly abusive but I was into it and stuff and what you're saying is I'm tired I'm young you're crazy now I get it you're like a baby you don't have the stamina yet and you can't heal cuz you have to not grow I looked it up and said oh he's getting mad and it's true so these things are true the kidnap him to where everybody uses gear and it sort of know where the ships went already obviously some do he says not a ton but soon they will and it's going to be craziness but boy do we need it this is terrible we can't get anything done and I'm up for this idea and I think it's a great idea I'll give you something to do too he wants to do stuff that his family did and where they did it and he wants to do things to learn and Ken is up for it and he would be getting big too he'd have his own act so I'm going to try and do these things

Tommy f

I think you're ready for doing it I think it's a good time I want to be the hairdressers assistant or something I want to help it'll be good time and fun and Becca was doing your hair she did okay and there are a few other women but they have people at Barnum and Bailey who do the haircuts but that's why being an assistant would be good has the force my way in but it's to balance it out yeah that's right competition but really it would not be wise thing to do what you say is I can hold it and it would cauterize almost and I guess you're right about something it's different yeah it would coagulate in the vein and a few seconds and it won't go to the beginning but odds are that you can't cut it that much what they say is it's held in place by muscle and it will coagulate and reattach and I'd be screwed that would be hit girl learning to fly so I do see something that's not fun what happens she fell out of the building obviously. And I don't want that written but okay now we have a lot to say but he doesn't want to do that but don't try to attack him when he's bigger and people would be motivated and that's what the next one but I didn't see the car in there and they said it was there so people are getting angry and frustrated and we're getting beat and we're going to get kicked out and he's going to be stuck so I'm wondering wondering how that's going to work and it's going on like that

Lily

You know what happens and it's morbid and that's what happens and there's a rule Max says that you're never supposed to get stuff from us if we pass away and they're saying later on that his clan broke from everybody else and they did and they plan to and then they're not really part of us and they say that it's us but they're not and it's really bad just like mom thought and her son knows so you're sitting there with nothing but we think that the max the max the proper planned it but they did know that they break away but they forced them to it's not really right and it's not right for something to do it either but someone has to and they want to use it as motivation and that's who's up to it and we do know how they get it here

Thor Freya it barely see it at the end of the video it's not true he looked he couldn't see it maybe way off in the distance but no it's not in that picture film or video it's not a fact we don't think that you'll see it in a movie

Olympus

#Youtube

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sylverstorms · 3 years

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Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume –which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

#mother miranda x oc #mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #creative writing #commission #thank you so much :')

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windhamsrotunda · 3 years

Text

Roman Reigns - You Look Even Better Than The Photos (FULL PART)

KEY WORD(S) - R/N MEANS READER'S NAME LIKE YOUR NAME {Y/N}.

Pairing(s): Roman Reigns x Female Reader!

Category: SMUT / NSFW

Summary / Theme: Roman is frustrated tonight, but the head of the table will get his frustration changed quick when he sees his girlfriend in the middle of the night.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Smut! | Angst! | Aggressive Dom! | 17+ READERS ONLY!

Word Count: 4,000k+

Tagging: @ringer04 @lghockey @saccreigns @ziasaph @ava-valerie @bayley-no-friends @blueberrycane21 @hungmanhorsecarriage @demonqueen29 @papireigns-05 @kingswitchblade @writtingrose @junglecassidy @riveliciousx @squirrel666 @enigmaticandunstable @flesheatinglette @kaileyjade and any others who wants to be tagged!

As he stepped into the luxurious shower of his bathroom, Roman cleansed himself with body wash. Scrubbing down those dead skin cells layered on his skin, the scent of strawberry and peppermint spewed the room. White fog sprays the whole bathroom, the temperature of the shower scolding hot. Roman’s fingertips stroked against his scalp, digging in deep roughly as the water from the pearly white shower head screamed down on him. A few minutes later spent in taking the shower head off the holder to wash himself down, Roman turned the knob to the shower off and grabbed a towel off the towel rack.

Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped his body like a grave digger wrapping a deceased human in soiled dirt. Shaking off the excess water from his hair, then he blow dried his masculine, black Samoan long hair. Setting the black blow dryer down, Roman stared at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, unrecognizable to see. He sprinted a hand through his hair quickly and got the remaining tangles out of his hair. Fingertips delicate like layers of daffodils overlapped over fields of fresh green grass. Eyebrows furrowed downward, he got dressed to head out to the real world.

Running out the door with keys in one hand grasped and phone in the other, the tribal chief headed towards his richened black Lamborghini car and got in. Turning the key to the ignition, he backed out of the driveway and put on GPS to go to his girlfriend’s house. Scuffing his face while driving, Roman glanced at his phone receiving a message from his girlfriend:

Reader’s Name {R/N}: ‘’You coming to my party?’’

Roman: ‘’Perhaps I will’’.

Focusing on driving after the little text he received, he thought about her. He did not know she was having a party at 9:30pm at night; Although he got backhanded by her text, he thought it was just going to be him and her alone. No, he was pissed. She should’ve told him she was going to invite friends over. Arriving at her house at about 9:45pm, Roman kept his cool. Not making a ferocious scene, his girlfriend opened the door to where the house was filled with busy activity like bees in a beehive. ‘’Hey babe,’’ she greeted with her drink in her hand, going in for a grasped hug. The head of the table clamped his arm around her, fingers dug into her back. ‘’You okay?’’ she winced a tiny bit at his fingers digging into her back.

‘’Keep our business on the low-low,’’ Roman whispered, taking her hand into his.

‘’What...?’’ His girlfriend said slowly, walking into the crowd of different people she invited over. Approximately 30 people in the house, the music overpowered their conversation.

‘’Let’s go into another room,’’ He suggested to his girlfriend.

‘’I want to hang out with my friends, though----’’ He cut her off abruptly.

‘’No, you’re staying with me whether you like it or not!’’ Roman boomed, his lips pressed together.

‘’I’m leaving.’’ She pushed her way through the tribal chief, he was left with a sour attitude. Crossing his arms pressed against his chest, Roman Reigns was not the man to mess around with tonight. He walked away from where he was standing on his own two feet and went around to find his cynical girlfriend.

‘’R/N!’’ He hollered through the buzzing music, his pupils large and filled with anger and hate. He now couldn’t find his girlfriend; his plans were ruined! A tall adult jock had bumped into Roman, spilling his drink onto his darkened clothing.

‘’Oops,’’ He sarcastically said, as he went on his way. He scowled, Roman gritted his teeth to attempt from violently throwing the jock to the ground viciously. He moved on to keep searching for his girlfriend R/N in the crowd of people at her huge house.

‘’Have you seen her?’’ Roman’s eyebrows furrowed; his face heated up with angriness. He was about to explode if she didn’t come announced.

‘’No man, what I am assuming is she probably went outside,’’ One of R/N’s friends told him, pointing with one finger towards the slider door.

‘’Thanks,’’ He scoffed, storming off to the white slider door, forcefully sliding it open and slamming it shut behind him. ‘’R/N!’’ his lungs shacked in his vocal cords; his eyes were an orange fire. Steam blowing off on the top of his head.

‘’What do you want?’’ She turned her body frame to face Roman, there, she was sitting on a wooden log with her legs crossed next to a blazing campfire.

‘’It’s you that I want to speak to!’’ He grunted, forcefully coming at her. ‘’They don’t call me the tribal chief for nothing,’’ Roman stated, as if he were giving a promo. R/N cocked her head up from her iPhone, setting it down.

‘’Listen, sweetheart. I am sorry----’’ He cut her off with a firm ‘’You better be sorry,’’ look. Aggressiveness and dominance in his whole complexion, his shoulders laid back, his mean pissed off look meant something to her. In order to calm the Samoan man down, she had to actively spend time with him, and him only.

She was shaken by his aggressive tone, ‘’P-Please, if there is anything I can do to make this better.’’ She stuttered, her facial expression a sudden change from content into complete horror.

Roman pulled something out of his pocket, a familiar-looking object that was once his girlfriend’s.

‘’Remember this?’’ He asked, sly smirk curled upon his lips. R/N looked down at the bulky necklace hesitantly, she mouthed the words:

‘’Yes, yes I do.’’

‘’SPEAK TO ME!’’ Boomed Roman, his eyes poured into the soul of his girl which caught the attention from the other people inside. ‘’No, don’t look at them, look at me.’’ A small whimper came from her, she felt deep down inside she was being taken control over. She stood there motionlessly, arms stiffly by her sides. Not wanting to make eye contact at the head of the table, she cried quietly so he couldn’t hear her. ‘'Come on,’’ He urged, tugging away at her motionless arm stuck by her side. R/N was in mixed emotions as of yet, she didn’t know how to express herself towards her boyfriend. She had the courage to finally say this:

‘’R-Roman... I don’t feel comfortable, it’s just that—I need to go.’’

He mimicked: ‘’I don’t feel comfortable. Why? Is it because I showed up unannounced and you decide to leave me after we didn’t spend time together in over 2 months? Is that what it is?’’ Before leaving, Roman realized his actions. How he affected her, she was left in tears. He needed to fix this or make this up to her. Being a heel was never an answer to solve for your problems. Especially his. The blazing campfire still lively, the heat pressed against Roman’s face from being so close to it, he had to sit down, think about what he did. Running a hand through his long, black hair, he had his arms clamped behind his back. Wanting the stormy rain that was about to arrive to take him alive. A huge lightning bolt struck across the gloomy sky; Roman wasn’t intimidated by this weather. All he wanted was R/N.

Back in the house, the party had seemed to die out. Besides, it was 11pm at night and it was storming. Everybody who attended her party had to scurry home to avoid from being caught by this hellions storm.

’Hey, you seem inconsolable. What happened?’’ R/N’s best friend asked in concern, stroking her shoulder.

‘’My boyfriend,’’ Her shallow breath vocalized as she fought back her choked up bottled tears.

‘’Oh, sweetie. Come here.’’ Her best friend pulled her into an embrace, telling her it would be okay and perhaps he will get over his hot-headedness. Roman, however, was still outside.

‘’Where is my boyfriend?’’ She asked out of nowhere, sensing he might be still outside, in which he was.

‘’He’s outside,’’ Her best friend explained, looking at the outside of the slider door. It was hard to see Roman outside, there was no glow in the orange, red fire. But her best friend knew for a fact he was outside. She scurried on her feet to open the slider door half open, she proclaimed:

‘’Roman! Come back inside!’’ He turned his head like a deer in the headlights, nodding in response. He got up from the log he was sitting upon and came back inside.

‘’I am so sorry...’’ R/N’s tears began to form in the creases of her e/c eyes, Roman’s hair was drenched from sitting in the pouring hard rain, almost shocked by a lightning bolt. He gave all his attention on her, but not her best friend. He wanted to be acknowledged. Walking up to her, he grazed his thumb across her jawline as her best friend watched.

‘’Leave,’’ he muttered, eyes on her best friend. She backed away and left the house. It was now him and her. Roman took notes mentally of his girlfriend, how her posture was, and how heavy she was breathing. Skipping breaths, she took a step closer to her boyfriend Roman. The terrifying, once called baby face, she first met when he was considered a ‘’good guy’’. He tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling, then eyes back on r/n.

‘’Roman....’’ She breathed; her eye contact was on point so she made sure he didn’t do anything hell-riding. She could feel his presence, how desiring he was not to say ‘’no’’ to.

He grabbed a chair from the empty person kitchen, and straddled the chair.

‘’Sit,’’ he firmly said, eyes furrowed this time. As she made her way to Roman, he lifted her body weight up and sat her on his lap. Legs stretched over at the end of the chair; r/n was surprised by a deepened kiss from her boyfriend Roman. He kissed her deeply, there they sat, in the chair the two of them comfortably. She straightened out her narrow spine to adjust in his lap, his fingertips touching her bare back. Her fixed gaze focused on the tribal chief; he could feel her heart beat rapidly pound in her chest. R/N was tensed up, he gave a question: ‘’Why are you so tense?’’

She blankly stared into his pupils, snapping a finger in front of her face, she unfocused on him and shook her head.

‘’I said, why are you so tense?’’ This time with more aggressive tone, he chuckled lightly at the reaction she gave him. ‘’Now that you’re acknowledging me, I say I am your tribal chief.’’ He brushed up against her, he rubbed the nape of her neck, earning a slight whimper from his girlfriend r/n.

‘’I-I am nervous,’’ she states, being completely honest with the head of the table rubbing the part of her neck where he touched her there. He laughed at her response; he crinkled his nose up.

‘’You’re telling me, I’m making you nervous?’’ He cooed, his hand wrapped around her hair now. ‘’What if the blinds are open...?’’ r/n panicked, wondering if her best friend will come back and find her straddled on Roman’s lap.

‘’I’ll make damn sure they’re not.’' He growled, getting impatient with her. ‘’After all, you’re in the hands at the head of the table now.’’ She nodded slowly, finally acknowledging what he was telling her. It’s like she was deeply under his spell. Roman shifted his body weight facing the front of the chair, with r/n still on his lap. He got up quickly, scaring her for a second like he was about to drop her on the hardwood floors. '’Chill out,’’ he growled deeply, rolling his eyes. Tension grew between r/n and Roman as she hugged his leg. ‘’Off,’’ he demanded.

‘’Yes, tribal chief.’’ She stammered, crawling on her hands and knees now away from her boyfriend. The 6’3 Samoan man followed her to where she was going, perhaps to the upstairs basement. He smirked, watching her crawl up the stairs in awe as her bottom swayed in front of him. He grew with desire, wanting her. His veins throbbed in his neck, his bare chest from where he removed his shirt off bellowed up and down. Roman’s shoulders slugged back, basically enjoying himself. His girlfriend finally got up off the floor from army-crawling, walking normally towards the upstairs basement where she stored her necklaces and jewelry and other things in there. He followed right behind her, then closing the door to the basement and flipping on the light without any effort.

‘’God why you have to do this to me, baby girl?’’ Roman fingers tapped on his leg impatiently, waiting for some slight approval. She was getting rid of her shyness, then she placed her phone on her big wooden dresser stored in the basement where there was nothing on it. She gave the ‘’one second’’ finger gesture to him, and put on: ‘’The Hills – The Weeknd Slowed and Reverbed’’

INTRO:

Your man on the road, he doin' promo

You said, "Keep our business on the low-low"

I'm just tryna get you out the friend zone

'Cause you look even better than the photos.

This was r/n and Roman’s song to dance to, he blinked slowly while she swayed back and forth in front of him. The song slowed speed wasn’t any ordinary slowed verbed song to dance to, but it was meant to be in a romanticization way. He growled, she turned the volume up to drain his groans and growls of frustration. He took it out on her by slamming her on the dresser, she winced in pain as he grabbed her neck softly.

‘’You’re going to be a good girl for the tribal chief, got it?’’ He firmly states, she nods in response, enjoying a little bit of pain produced in her body. She choked softly, crying out the words:

‘’Yes.’’

He lifted her up and set her down on the dresser top, he kissed her deeply enough to sweep her off her feet. Her garden was in heat, her face flushed bright red wanting the head of the table to take over her. Feeling extremely confident, she laid her shoulders down on the head of the surface of the dresser, body shifted upwards.

I only call you when it's half past five

The only time that I'll be by your side

She arches her head up, he kisses her neck gently, biting down earning a yelp from her. A bead of sweat pooled down the side of the face of Roman, his fingernails dug into both of r/n’s sides until she yelped more. Wincing at the pain again, he smacks her across the face.

‘’Who is your head of the table?’’ He asks her, smacking her again this time on the rim of her bottom before she could answer.

‘’Y-You.’’ She choked; teary eyes filled like a waterfall lasting for a lifetime.

His lips curled into a smirk, her legs stretched and wrapped around his torso, r/n’s hair fell upon his tattooed chest, strands of hair touching delicately at the peak of his nips. The song continued to play through the speaker of her phone, he made fiery love to her on a cold wooden dresser, he was rough and quick; Roman’s body weight sprawled on top of her, wildly thrusting in her treasured garden as she cried out. Her acrylic nails dug deep into his flesh of his back, giving one last thrust his collapsible lungs screamed out: ‘’R/N!’’, spilling and pulling out of her.

‘’Da-Damn.’’ He wheezes, a look of concern appears on the face of his girlfriend.

‘’You--- You okay?’’

‘’Now that I’ve got you to admire me, yes.’’ He chuckled darkly, breath all weakened out.

Attempting to stay in character, Roman’s chuckle switched over into a devious smirk. ‘’I’m not done with you, yet.’’

A look of surprise read all over the face of r/n, thinking mentally: ‘’Fucker.’’

She kissed him passionately, then pulling away to catch her breath. He twirled her hair with one finger,

‘’Pretty baby girl.’’ He spoke. She blushed in response, the dominant, Samoan man had her on her knees. He pushed her head towards his manhood, "I can see you're soaked for me? Huh?" He cooed once more, "You can release that anger out all on the chief anytime, baby girl."

R/n whined in response, like he was teasing her. Before diving her mouth onto his manhood, Roman reached down her garden, rewarding her by rubbing her folds softly.

"Mhhh!" He growled, yanking her head deeper by making her choke on him. "Good, that's it. Adknowledge me as your chief." She bobbed, her jaw getting sore from fucking him. "Ah-ah yeah...." Roman mouthed his girlfriend harder, releasing and pulling out again. His face looking like this:

"God." His breath all weary, the tribal chief spent hourless sex with his girlfriend r/n, rough and dominant until his body collapsed onto her.

"Yes! Yes!" R/n exclaimed, the four walls echoing throughout the basement while she's getting pounded. Flesh hitting against flesh heard through the upstairs basement, Roman growled in her ear,

"You like when you're claimed by the chief!? HMM!?" He exclaimed back, slapping her rear end dominantly. Crying in response, she nodded.

"I-I love you----" Before finishing off her sentence, she passed out heavily in his arms. He strokes her hair with one hand, arm draped over the naked torso of his girlfriend r/n.

"That's how it's supposed to be," he whispered into his sleeping girlfriend's ear, leaving a hickey on her pale neck before getting changed and exiting her house. He left her a little note saying:

"Hope you had a fun time tonight. Love, Roman"

R/n woke up the next day, finding the note by her stomach. She picked it up, smiling softly to herself. "I'm the luckiest woman to be considered his girlfriend."

Roman was at home, he texted r/n:

Roman: Hey baby girl, I am sorry I gotten all dominant on you last night; it was to teach you a lesson and claim you're mine. You know, there will be consequences once you piss the head of the table off.

A buzz came from her phone, she read and text back.

R/n: No, it's okay honey. I love your dominant side; It's sexy as fuck on you anyway.

Roman: That's my girl.

A/N - Thank you for reading! Hoped you guys enjoyed!

#romanreignssmut #romanreigns #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #wwe #wwesmackdown #wweraw #wrestling fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wweimagine #headofthetable #tribalchief #universal champion #roman #reigns

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thebigbadbatswife · 3 years

Text

The Witching Hour - Chapter 1 - All Hallows’ Eve

Summary - When her friends dragged her to Gotham’s old cemetery for some Halloween ghost hunting fun, Y/N really didn’t think her life would end up changing like this.

Chapter Warnings - referenced/implied character death

Word Count - 3.3k

The cell phone on your nightstand buzzed incessantly as your friends continued to spam your messages. They had been doing so for the past hour or so. You were surprised that the damn thing hadn’t vibrated off of the nightstand yet. When it finally stopped, when you finally thought they had given up, you returned your attention to the document you had open on your laptop. Just as you were about to start typing again, your phone resumed its buzzing.

Huffing, you shut your laptop’s lid, placed it on the bed next to you, reached over and grabbed your phone off the nightstand. Over eighty messages both from your friends individually and within the group chat, begging you to come along with them to the old cemetery that sat outside of town. They wanted to go because it was Halloween and that meant it was the best time to go ghost hunting! And they wanted you to go along because of how you were usually drawn to this type of stuff. As well as how this type of stuff was also usually drawn to you.

Come on! For old time’s sake? Plus we’re going to have a much better chance at actually catching something if you come along!

The message was from your friend John, the ringleader of your group. The reason you and your friends had always gotten into trouble at school. Now he was trying to work his magic once again.

Only because I’m a meta with an uncomfortably close relationship with death…

As far as you knew, your powers were genetic instead of being caused by that arc reactor explosion that had given a lot of metas their powers. You were able to look past the “Veil”, as it was called, and see and interact with spirits on the other side. Not that you did so often or even liked to do. It creeped you out and you sometimes saw things that would certainly traumatize most people if they saw them. Not to mention the strain on your body and mind each time you did it.

Why the obsession with the old cemetery now?

It had been years since John had mentioned ghost hunting, let alone the old cemetery. Back during your last year of high school, it had been all John could talk about. He was convinced that it was where the “cool” ghosts would be hanging out. None of you had ever actually gone because your last year had passed surprisingly quickly and before you all knew it, you were all moving to different parts of the country for college. In all that time it had never been mentioned again. Until now.

Ha! She finally replies! I knew you wouldn’t leave us to scream into the void forever!

The next message was from Tom, your oldest friend. Unlike the others, you two had known each other since kindergarten. If anyone was capable of talking you into going, it was probably him.

It’s been years since all of us were in the same place at the same time! Not to mention it’s Halloween and a full moon! I don’t think it could be more perfect!

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.

You know you want to come! And don’t you dare lie!

He wasn’t wrong about that either. You were a little curious. The cemetery was on the outskirts of Gotham City. According to the internet, the cemetery had members of Gotham’s oldest families buried there. If you were to use your powers there to look past the Veil, there was a chance some of those people could still be hanging around. It would certainly be an unique opportunity to converse with them and, perhaps, attempt to help move on. Or maybe you would find inspiration for your next short ghost story. You certainly had been struggling with inspiration recently so maybe this was exactly what you needed.

Okay! Fine! I’ll come!

You scoffed as you hit ‘send’. Once again, Tom had talked you into joining them. A small part of you was convinced he was a meta with some sort of manipulation power.

That’s great! ‘Cause we’re already outside your house!

John replied, causing you to roll your eyes. Of course they were already outside. Why wouldn’t they be?

You locked your phone, got up from your bed and slipped your phone into your pocket. You grabbed your jacket from your wardrobe and made your way out of your bedroom and down the stairs. You grabbed your keys from the bowl on the table, near the front door.

“Y/N? Where are you going at this hour sweetheart?” your grandma called from the living room.

“I’m going to meet up with some old friends. I’ll be back soon!” you replied. You didn’t tell her where you guys were going since you knew she would most definitely disapprove.

“Stay safe!”

“Will do!”

After your parents’ death, your grandma had not only raised you, but helped you learn how to use your abilities so that, should you choose to, you’d be able to use them. Not that she would approve of you constantly using them. Looking through the Veil could sometimes draw the attention of extremely unwanted creatures that were looking for a route to the physical world. You knew how to defend yourself from them, but that didn’t mean you really wanted to get into that situation to begin with. If you were going to use your abilities tonight, you were going to have to be extremely careful.

The entire drive there, your friends excitedly talked about what they could potentially capture on either video or audio. John was driving, Tom sat in the passenger seat next to him and you were sitting in the back with Rebecca.

A couple of hours later and the car finally pulled up in front of the cemetery. John turned off the engine and you all got out. Since it was pretty much pitch black out here, you all got out your phones and turned on your flashlights.

Tall stone walls covered in moss and vines surrounded the cemetery and an old rusted iron gate stopped the car from going any further. Threaded through the bars of the gate was large rusted chain with an equally rusted padlock. Even if you guys had the key, you seriously doubted it would have worked anyway.

“Are you kidding me?” asked Tom, as he useless pulled against the chain. “This is so unfair!”

“Uh, maybe we could try to scale the walls or something?” Rebecca suggested as she walked over to where the vines seemed at their thickest. She gave them a gentle tug. “Looks like it might hold our weight, if we go up one by one.”

Tom shook his head. “And get covered in spiders? Yeah, no thanks!”

Rebecca frowned as she used her phone’s light to have a closer look at the vines. “I can’t see any spiders.”

“That’s because you’re not looking in the right spots,” he replied as he walked over to her. He shone his own light up at the vines.

While you walked over to them, to get a better look at what Tom was trying to show her, John shook his head and walked back toward the car.

“See all of those tiny turquoise dots shinning back at us?” he asked her as he pointed above where there were a lot of tiny turquoise dots sparkling in the light.

“Yeah, they’re like little drops of moisture right?”

“You would think, but they’re not! Those are the eyes of all those horrid little spiders!”

Rebecca squealed and immediately backed away from the wall. “Tom! Why the fuck would you tell me that! Fuck! There’s probably going to be so many of them inside the actual cemetery! And now I know how to spot them!”

“I don’t think that’s going to be much of an issue considering we can’t get in anyway,” you said as you gestured toward the very locked gate. This whole thing was starting to feel like a massive waste of time.

“Oh! But we can!” John announced as he strode on over to you three with a large pair of bolt cutters in hand. He also had a backpack slung over his shoulder. As he cut the chain, John explained how he had swung by here earlier to see if there was anything that would stop you lot from getting in. When he saw the chain, he had gone to the hardware store, that was located in the worst part of the city, and bought these. “Only place I could find that had bolt cutters big enough for a chain like this!”

“Aren’t we like breaking the law or something right now?” Rebecca asked just as the cutters snipped through the chain and it clanged against the gate.

“Probably,” John replied very nonchalantly. “But we’re pretty much committed at this point now. Besides, look at this place! No one’s been here in years! I seriously doubt we’re going to get caught.”

The iron gate creaked loudly as it was pushed open and you all headed inside. The others walked ahead while you trailed behind. The way they were talking, discussing who was buried here and therefor who they could potentially “contact”, made you feel like you had time-travelled back to high school.

When you all got to the centre of the cemetery, John took the backpack off and opened it. It was filled with all sorts of equipment that was used in modern day ghost hunting. Voice recorders, emf meters, even a couple of high end night vision cameras. Damn, he had really gone all out for this. After the gear had been handed out, John began to give everyone directions as to where they were off to investigate.

Tom and Rebecca were going to be investigating the southwest of the cemetery, which was the newest part, John was headed up to the north, where some mausoleums were shaded by an old willow tree and you:

“And Y/N, you get the oldest part of the cemetery which is toward the east!”

“Right, of course, send the meta to the creepiest part of this place,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Well, you said it, not me! Good luck and we’ll meet back here in a couple of hours,” John replied. With that, you all split up and went your separate ways.

The cemetery was vastly overgrown. Most of the headstones were buried beneath the long unruly grass, brambles and vines. Every now and then your flashlight would catch a glimpse of the grey stone underneath. You also caught more glimpses of those glowing spider eyes and were doing your best to ignore them. You really hated Tom sometimes.

Thanks to all of the plants, you could barely see the path. The only thing that indicated you were walking on one was every now and then you could feel a stone slab shift underneath your feet.

The further east you walked, the darker and darker the cemetery seemed to get. It also seemed to get creepier and creepier, which was strange to you because you never really found cemeteries creepy. Instead you had always found them peaceful. A lot of people found you weird for that. There was also the feeling that something was watching you. The uneasiness that came along with that feeling was enough to prevent you from using either your recorder or your abilities. If there really was something watching you, you got the feeling that the last thing you wanted to do was attract its attention. After all, who knew what truly lurked here? Especially on the other side.

You eventually reached a group of mausoleums. Much like the rest of the cemetery, they were covered in bramble, vines and other plantlife. They were tall and the parts of them you could see, you could tell were certainly made of far more expensive stone than the rest of the place. This wasn’t just the oldest part, this was also the richest part.

You approached a few of the mausoleums and managed to clear away some of the plants covering the name plates. The majority of the names had been erased due to the elements, but not all of them. The names that were still readable were also names you recognised. Kane, Elliot, Crowne. Three of the First Families of Gotham.

You were about to approach another when you saw something large and black move, out of the corner of your eye. You spun around and shone your flashlight in the direction of the shadow, but there was nothing there.

“Hello?” you called out, which was probably a terrible idea, but it was the only thing you could think of doing. “Who’s there?” You waited for a reply, but no reply came.

Was your nerves making you see things? It couldn’t be a spirit; you weren’t using your powers. Unless… Throughout your life you had heard of non metas who had “seen” things in their peripheral vision. Sometimes they were spirits that had briefly broken through the Veil, other times it really was just people imagining things. Until now you had never experienced it before and you hated how impossible it was to tell which one it was.

Turning on your phone’s screen, you looked at the time. You still had an hour before you had to head back to meet back up with the others. Turning the screen off again, you looked back in the direction you had seen the shadow move toward. Did you follow? It sounded like an awful idea, but the only other thing you could do was head back early and then wait around for everyone else, and that sounded incredibly boring.

‘ Okay, guess I’m doing this then,’ you thought as you began to head down the path, in the direction the shadow had gone.

You had previously thought that there was no way this cemetery could be anymore overgrown than it already was. This new part you were now walking through proved you wrong. Extremely wrong.

Branches hanging low off of trees and thorns from the brambles tugged at your clothing as you passed them. You had to keep an extra careful eye out on where you were stepping so that you didn’t trip over and injure yourself. There were more mausoleums, but you could barely make their shapes out through all of the greenery.

As you walked, that feeling that something was watching you increased tenfold and you found yourself constantly glancing back. Each time you looked you were met with the same result. There was nothing there.

‘ It’s just my overactive imagination ,’ you told yourself, but that did nothing to soothe your growing fear. What if the thing you had seen had been an actual person? And not a good person at that. This was Gotham after all and for some reason Halloween was when most, if not all, the psychopaths suddenly came out to play. Were you about to become another notch in some serial killer’s knife hilt? Oh, you really hoped not. That was not how you wanted to go.

Before your mind could lead you down a dark path of all the vivid ways you could be brutally murdered right now, the path came to an end. At the end of it sat a lone mausoleum. This one didn’t look nearly as old as the others nor was it as covered in plants like the rest. As you walked over to it you saw one of the large iron doors had fallen off its hinges and now laid on the ground.

Cautiously, you approached the entrance. When you were close enough, you shone your light on the name plate. The name ‘Wayne’ was engraved on to it. You got a feeling that that was somehow important, but you really didn’t know why. Nor why you were so drawn to it. Almost as if you were now on autopilot, you stepped inside the mausoleum.

The first two names you saw were Martha and Thomas Wayne. Even years after their deaths, you knew the names well. Before their untimely deaths they had been trying to use their fortune to help the city and its more vulnerable citizens.

The next name you saw, you didn’t recognise. Jason Peter Todd. You were shocked when you saw his death date. “Fuck, you were barely sixteen years old,” you whispered. That was... that was not fair at all.

The last name was Bruce Wayne. It stood out to you a lot more than the others had. Almost as if it was…. Glowing? What? That made no sense. Okay, you were definitely just seeing things now. To prove that to yourself, you turned your flashlight off. The name continued to glow, in fact now it was a hell of a lot brighter.

“What the fuck?”

You peered closer to see if there was any small lights or something similar causing it to glow, but there wasn’t anything. The name was actually glowing! Freaked out, you took a picture of it (without the flash of course), and sent it to Tom. A few agonising minutes passed before he finally replied.

Why are you sending me a completely black photo?

What? You checked the picture you had sent and, yeah, the name was definitely visible.

Can’t you see the glowing name?

If Tom couldn’t see it, then what did that mean?

What are you on about? There’s nothing there. Are you okay?

Was this somehow related to your powers? Is that why Tom wasn’t able to see it? If that was the case, and with each passing second it seemed to be, then he or the others couldn’t help.

Yeah, I’m fine. Nevermind.

Sighing, you checked the time before you shut off you phone and slipped it into your pocket. Thirty minutes before you had to head back. You were on your own. If this was related to your powers then what exactly did you do with it? Your grandma had never mentioned anything like this before, so you had no clue. You still felt uneasy and this new discovery had done nothing to help so you really didn’t want to peer through the Veil, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Would anything happen if you reached out and touched it? You sometimes got flashes of memories or feelings when you touched some items. Maybe this could be the same? You supposed the only way to find out would be to touch the stone. Cautiously you reached out and pressed the palm of your hand against the cold stone.

Images flashed through your mind. Movie tickets, a pearl necklace, a gun. There was the sound of the gun firing, a child’s blood chilling scream and the loud wailing of police sirens. Then it was over and you were brought back to reality, with far more questions than you had previously started with.

Before you were able to question or make sense of what you had seen, your phone vibrated. Taking it out, you saw a text from John, as well as several others.

Are you nearly here?

We were supposed to meet up fifteen minutes ago. Where are you?

Did your phone die?

It did, didn’t it. Unless you’re currently doing one of your meta things?

So what had simply been mere seconds for you in reality had been forty five minutes for everyone else. Which wasn’t all that unusual for you, but could certainly make people that didn’t deal with it daily worry. With that in mind, you fingers flew across your keyboard as you typed out your reply.

Yeah, meta thing, sorry. I’m on my way back now.

You turned your flashlight back on and walked back to the entrance. Before leaving, you looked back to where the glowing of Bruce Wayne’s name was now slowly fading away. Whoever he had been, he was asking for your help. You were sure of it and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

#batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman #bruce wayne #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #metahuman!reader #the witching hour #my writing

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neonthewrite · 3 years

Text

Washed Up Winchesters 1

Introducing the Winchester brothers reimagined as tiny denizens of the Lilliput/Blefuscan continent! They're just as determined to fight monsters, though they've met a giant who's definitely not a monster. Jacob will get them the help they need (don't worry. Chase will definitely hear about this).

Co-written with @nightmares06.

Reading time ~10 minutes.

-1- ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( 4 ) ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) ( 8 )

Story Tag

~~~~~

This was probably the worst way his day could have gone.

It hadn't been so bad in the morning, when they first boarded the ship. An easy in and out job, according to Sam. Get in, make sure they correctly identified the monsters, get out. They'd make a real plan once they were sure of what they were fighting.

This? This was supposed to just be reconnaissance.

So much for that, Dean thought when he was tossed overboard, along with Sam and the bag of backup weapons, lovingly disguised as a bag of clothing that only occasionally rattled.

Hitting the water was like slamming into a cold, icy brick. The impact disoriented Dean and he lost sight of Sam as he immediately went under, dragged down by the weight of his duffel bag and jacket. With effort, he kicked free of the bag. It vanished into the dark waters.

This was turning into a terrible case from start to finish. Dean's favorite guns were in there, and he'd built most of them himself.

The thought of Sam sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor propelled Dean to kick weakly for the glassy ceiling above his head, the barrier that separated him from the open air. Lungs burning from trying to hold his breath, Dean had nearly despaired when a hand clamped around his wrist, dragging him into the open air with a huge gasp.

Eyes stinging from the salt water, Dean clung to the driftwood that Sam stuffed into his arms. His lungs heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

The ship, full of their enemies, was long gone, leaving the pair drifting on the open expanse of water, barely clinging to life after being tossed to their deaths.

~~~

Time and the ocean were kind to the stranded pair.

Sam had long lost track of the time, with only the glaring sun above to measure it by. Half of him was submerged in the waves, the other half clung to the driftwood.

After what felt like hours, his arms were weakening. Not knowing where to turn to head to the shore, both Winchesters were in danger of driving themselves further from land if they swam in a random direction.

The ship they had stowed away on had long since vanished on the horizon. Sam knew no rescue would come from them, but there was the possibility of a fishing trawler passing by and spotting the brothers in the waves. Any hope, no matter how small, was worth dwelling on.

Dean groaned, and Sam glanced his way. His older brother had taken the brunt of the impact when they were tossed overboard together, and was definitely feeling it.

“C’mon,” Sam rasped at Dean, his voice thick. Licking his lips, he tried to clear his throat. The salt water was doing them no favors, out here where there was no fresh water. “Just hang in there. I’m sure someone will be here in no time.”

False hope was better than no hope, in Sam’s estimation. He needed to keep his brother going until rescue came.

The sound of splashing in the distance drew Sam’s attention. He slapped Dean’s back, forcing him to look. “See? Someone found us!”

Dean blinked heavily, then squinted. “You sure that’s not just fish…?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sam scoffed. “Fish don’t move like that. In no time at all we’ll be back on solid ground!”

Then, relief crashed over him as he recognized that a person had found them. “See? Told ya,” he said tiredly, just barely hanging on to consciousness.

Dean only mumbled a reply, eyes half-lidded as he turned to look towards their savior. Out in the ocean, with nothing to compare to their approaching helper, for a moment it looked like their rescue would be by some regular teenager.

Losing his grip on the driftwood, Sam was too weak to avoid slipping into the waves.

~~~

It was an average day in Lilliput, as far as Jacob was concerned. Ever since he'd settled in the back pasture of the Lisongs' farm, a shaky routine had started up for him. After his morning ablutions, he would check at the edge of town to see if anyone needed anything from him. Sometimes, if he could get away with it, he would even tiptoe along the miniature avenues to explore the outskirts of the city.

Until someone scolded him and sent him on his way, at least. It wasn't safe for him to linger in the city, not with all the Lilliputians bustling about at all hours of the day. They always kept themselves busy.

He had lost track of how long exactly he'd been a permanent resident of the place. It was a simple lifestyle for him, no matter how fussed the little guys could get. He was used to it.

Some days, he preferred to explore the areas beyond the city and farther even than the farmland. Other little settlements dotted the countryside, and he avoided them, but still found more places to walk. For an entire country sized for miniature people, it had plenty of space for someone who definitely didn't fit in.

He found himself on the beach on a gloomy afternoon. The beach was the first place he'd seen in Lilliput. After washing up to shore with no clear idea of how he'd gotten there, he'd received the shock of his life.

The tiniest little person he'd ever seen had been chilling on him, hidden right under his hand. Things had only gotten weirder after that discovery.

Jacob stared out over the waves, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his jacket. The cold didn't bother him nearly as much as it could the smaller folk, but even he noticed a nip in the air. Concealed behind fog and distance he could faintly see Lilliput's neighbor island on half the horizon. He'd yet to visit the place.

The rest of the horizon was open sea, extending farther than anyone on Lilliput could even fathom. Even Jacob wasn't sure how far away he was from home.

The waves were choppy further out, but Jacob squinted. He had a natural advantage when it came to seeing a great distance from the shore--no Lilliputian would notice the splash of color against the waves, so very far away. Too far for any of their little boats to reach in any amount of time.

Holy shit!

With a sinking suspicion in his gut, Jacob waded out into the water, heedless of the tiny, crashing waves.

The shore was far behind him before he had to adjust his gait to account for the deeper waters. He wasn't the world's best swimmer by any means, but his height kept him above water even out past where most of the Lilliputians tended to bring their boats. Out here even he eventually ran the risk of stepping off the continental shelf.

Depending on what he found at the end of his frantic search, his plans to meet up with Chase might be postponed.

More than once, a particularly choppy wave would rise up and hide the small splash of color against the dark blue from his sight. He always had to pause so he could find it again, hoping whatever it was hadn't finally been pulled beneath the waves.

He'd wondered if he was making a fool of himself chasing after a simple piece of driftwood when he finally spotted it again and his heart sank. Not driftwood at all.

"Oh, no," he muttered to himself as he half-swam, half-walked further along. The ocean floor was evasive under his boots, but Jacob didn't lose his focus as he stretched out one arm, ready to lift a hand under the bedraggled shape of two miniature people clinging to each other and barely keeping above water.

Jacob winced as he lost his footing in the water at last, but he didn't have quite as much trouble staying afloat as the two little guys. While one of his hands reached out to the side to help him tread water, the other lurched forward just as one of them disappeared. He had to pray the movement of the water didn't steal the little guy away before he could reach him.

Relief welled up in him as he felt something small against his rising palm. He lifted it up further to scoop up the second little guy and his meager life preserver, and soon enough the water was rushing off of them and off his hand as he lifted them out.

One thing about Lilliputians that always stuck out to him was how feather light they were. Even weighed down with exhaustion and water, these guys were no different. To him, they were mere ounces on his palm.

He struggled for a moment with his free arm to push himself backwards through the water again, all while keeping his occupied hand above the waves. When he could actually stand again, he finally lowered them enough to check on them. He cupped both hands to try to keep them steady.

Please be alive, please be alive!

~~~

Dean, waking up slowly and desperately after seeing his brother slip beneath the water, found himself clinging to his driftwood as the water rushed off the edge of the surface that had risen beneath them, and blinked blearily in confusion, unable to place what had just happened.

Sam remained close by, only a few feet away on the same surface. His long locks of hair hung around his face and rippled in the remaining pools of water that remained after the torrent.

Struck with worry, Dean inched closer, grabbing Sam’s shoulder and rolling him so he was face-up. It was with relief that Dean saw that his younger brother’s chest rose and fell, breathing steadily. He had only dropped into unconsciousness from fatigue.

“Sammy,” Dean patted his shoulder, raising his head to look around at their surroundings to see just what had rescued them so far from shore.

It took a long moment of staring for just what Dean was seeing to sink in, and when it did, he bolted upright, scrambling back.

“Giant!”

Jacob’s eyes widened and he flinched back from the startled shout. While he balked from the sudden burst of flailing from the tiny little guy, he was too late to notice where he was going. Before Jacob could curl his fingers upward and keep the little guy safe, he tumbled backwards right off his hands. The frantic yells cut off with a small plop in the water.

“Shit!” One hand curled closer around the guy who had fallen beneath the waves moments ago. He held him closer to his chest and scanned the waves, where only a tiny splash could direct him to the one that had fallen.

This time, at least, it was easier to fish the little guy out of the water. Jacob’s free hand scooped under the small, flailing shape for a second time in so many minutes, and this time as he lifted him out, he kept his fingers curled loosely over him.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he murmured. “I gotcha. You and your buddy here are gonna be just fine!”

Dean was only able to keep up his struggles for several more seconds, finding that the fingers kept him secure from jumping out of the giant’s grip. The exhaustion was creeping up on him, trying to pull him down into blackness just like Sam had been claimed. It was only by sheer, dogged determination that he held it at bay.

One of the last weapons Dean had on him, one of the few that he’d kept on himself instead of in the trusty duffel bag that currently rested at the bottom of the ocean, was a silver knife. Both brothers were in the habit of squirreling away such weapons in order to be prepared for anything. It hadn’t done Dean much good on the ship, caught off guard and overpowered before he could react, but maybe having it would pay off now.

“I don’ know who you think you are, giant,” Dean slurred, struggling to stay upright as he brandished his knife in two hands, pointing it at Jacob’s chest. “But you better let us go! We’re on an important job, and we’re not going to give up!”

Jacob felt bad. This wasn't the first time he'd scared a Lilliputian before, and may not be the last, but he never enjoyed it. Even though the tiny struggles didn't last, he could feel the tension in the tiny body as the little guy glared up at him. The knife glinted at him, but he kept his focus on the little guy's face. "I can't just..." he started to protest. Then, he shook his head and turned with both the little guys in tow. Whatever they needed to say to him, they could do so from the safety of dry land. He wasn't about to leave them floundering out there, no matter that he hadn't asked permission to grab them up.

What little energy Dean had left was put into directing a glare up towards Jacob’s face, annoyed at being mostly ignored. Hours under the hot sun with no food or water had his mind partially in a delirium, and the casual way this giant had stopped paying him any mind smarted at Dean’s pride.

“Hey, I was talking to you,” Dean said in annoyance, jabbing Jacob’s hand several times with a pointed finger. “I’m the great Dean Winchester! You should listen to me, I hunt monsters for a living!”

With that, the remaining energy he had left fled, and he sagged to the side, falling unconscious.

#mywriting #collab #washed up winchesters #jacob andris #chase lisong #g/t #g/t handheld #gullivers travels fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #chase in lilliput au #sam winchester #dean winchester

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the19thduckpotato · 3 years

Text

@allmightluver I didn’t want to spam you and I figured a few others might enjoy this as well, so here is that fluffy dream snippet I promised to share. <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toshi made a soft noise in his sleep. The arm draped about Izuku tensed for a moment, as if trying to protect the boy. Then it fell away, no longer a hindrance. "Nnnu... wakeup....." Izuku slumped against Toshi's chest, sticky eyelids closing. One last dissatisfied grunt, and he lost the battle to sleep far quicker than he should have. Toshi unknowingly returned the grunt, but it was a pleased, almost victorious grunt. He shifted, Izuku's weight settling against him. Satisfied, his breathing evened out. Golden afternoon sun painted the wall over their heads.

. .. ... .... The child clutched his backpack, eyes wide and nervous. The roads didn't make sense here. They should have. They seemed almost familiar but each time he turned a corner, expecting to see home, the roads turned unfamiliar. Home felt farther and farther away the more corners he turned. Unsettling fear crept in. He just wanted to go home. He looked about for help, trying to quell his panic. Everything was glaringly, dishearteningly, unfairly devoid of people. The world loomed far too large and the child bit back a cry of terror. One more corner Surely someone is here. Please please His sneakers pounded the pavement as he rushed the next corner, as if hoping to catch the world in the act before it shifted on him again. However, he had also squeezed his eyes shut, scared that this new corner would also look unfamiliar. So he didn't notice the big kid until he thudded off of him. "The hell?" the big kid snarled. Behind him, two other big kids watched as the first grabbed the child by the front of his shirt and shook him. "Why doncha watch where you're going?!" I know you The child's blue eyes lit with fear, trying not to glance at his backpack. please don't please don't please please One of the other big kids yanked the backpack from the child's hands, ignoring (or enjoying) the whimper. "What's the lil nerd got?" "Comics!" the third remarked, barking laughter. He held up one. "Wondorous Woman?! That's a GIRL'S comic, you lil dweeb!" someone please "You don't need to read this crap!" PLEASE The third big boy gleefully tore the first page off, a messy diagonal rip. The child screamed angrily and swiped at him. "Oh HO, the lil nerd's got spice!" the first one sneered. "Let's show him what we think of that." He pulled one meaty fist back. someone please help me!

A small figure barreled out of nowhere and shoved the bully out of the way. A (very) young voice screeched angrily "YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE!!" A freckled face that couldn't be more than six years old scrunched up with anticipation of coming pain and righteous anger. The face flickered, as if reality was glitching, being replaced with an older, more tired version of itself. Eyes of thirteen years old glared out, far more subdued and cynical than they had any right to be. Jaw locked, arms up to guard his face. Daring the boys to come closer. Another, stronger flicker, and the small body grew taller, more muscular, green lightning flickering around. Standing as tall as his five foot six body would allow, broadened shoulders yelling a silent get lost, anger contained for fear of injuring the attacking children. One last flicker, a blurry form glitching into being. Six feet tall, eyes glowing powerfully. Blue(?) wings drooping heavily to the ground, a lion's growling half-roar cut off with a choked gasp as the apparition looked at his hands. A final, somehow loud flicker occurred, and the boy dropped to his knees, his form hovering indecisively between the ages of thirteen and eight. Whh-- wuuh....

"What the hell?!?" The first bully dropped the blond child and backed up, unsure how to react to this new threat. Beside him, his cohorts threw the backpack on the ground (spilling issues of Wondorous Woman everywhere) and bolted. The first bully, dismayed at being abandoned, pointed a finger at the blond--"next time, you lil punk. Freak," he added then quickly followed his friends. The child turned about, studying this new person-apparition with naked curiosity. One hand reached out--whether to help or just touch, he wasn't sure. He didn't seem scared but merely waited patiently for the newcomer to decide on a form.

The flickering boy's wide eyes turned to the outstretched hand, his own hand starting to reach out. The eyes focused on the face attached to the hand, suddenly becoming wider and more uncertain. Warped sounds of stressed whimpers carried through the air around him, and he pulled his hand back, wrapping his arms around his head protectively and curling into a ball, hiding from the world around him, until-- Quiet. A child of five years old peeked out from behind his arms and unfolded himself, looking up with soft round eyes at the curious blond sunburst.

A young Toshi gazed at an even younger Izuku I know you and the ten year old continued to hold out a helping hand, this time with a dazzling delighted grin. "HI there! I'm Toshinori! But you can call me Toshi if ya want. That was pretty cool what you did just now. You look really str--" He paused, remembering a moment ago the little kid had looked like some avenging angel, enveloped in crackling energy. But his hand didn't waver. "--SUPER strong! Plus Ultra Strong! How did you do that? Is it your Quirk? Is this your all the time shape or just what you're ok with right now? Sorry," he added with a sheepish grin, "I ask a lot of questions."

The small Izuku didn't speak, just made a soft noise, big eyes still staring. He took the outstretched hand in both of his, pulling himself up.

Toshi felt a warm glow within, his sheepish grin growing back to that brilliant delighted smile. I'm helping someone! At his feet, the torn Wondorous Woman comic fluttered and he blushed. "Oh no, hang on a sec--!"

Izuku reached down and picked up one of the issues that had spilled, opening it curiously.

"That's Wondorous Woman!" young Toshi exclaimed. "She's amazing and powerful and she can fly--i think--and she has this Quirk that makes an energy field that traps bad guys and make them tell the truth and--" He paused amid his fanboy gush and blushed more, twisting one bang nervously. "Well, -I- think she's cool," he mumbled almost defensively.

A pudgy little finger poked at a picture of Wonderous Woman, then a whole hand brushed over the smooth page. Izuku looked up at Toshi again and nodded, agreeing that she was cool. He wondered if the blond boy had ever heard of his favorite hero. "...All Might?"

Toshi's brow furrowed, as if almost remembering some lovely dream. Then he shrugged. "Never heard of them. That's an awesome name, though--did you make that up? All Might," he said, testing the name out and unconsciously posing, fists on hips and chest puffed out. "If I was a hero, that'd be a great name! But..." He laughed lightly and messed his own hair up. "I bet you'd make a great hero with that Quirk of yours!"

Izuku's face dropped, and he seemed to shrink into himself, mouth shut tight.

"You don't like talking about it? I'm sorry!" Toshi sat on the ground next to the little boy, then hugged his knees to his chest. "Is there something you do like?" The young blond smiled cheerfully.

Izuku's eyes flicked around nervously, still not talking. He mirrored Toshi's pose, sitting down and pulling his knees up. He held out the comic, offering it back if Toshi wanted it.

Toshi grinned again. "Go ahead, you can keep it--wait!" He dug into his backpack where a few issues remained. "Let me get you my favorite one--and it's not torn or dirty. Here!" He almost bounced in glee but instead contained himself. "This one is super important. This is when Wondorous Woman goes up against her arch nemesis--that's a super awful bad guy," he explained to the little boy.

Izuku leaned closer, interested.

"And he's kidnapped all her friends and hidden them away and he's fighting Wondorous Woman but making her think no one is coming to help." He remembered the first time he read this particular issue. Hiding under his blanket with a flashlight so as not to bother his roommate at the foster home. Scared of being caught and made fun of... but even more scared for Wondorous Woman. Whispering tiny words of encouragement to his favorite hero with each page turn, praying she wouldn't give in or give up. "And just when all hope seemed lost," he said in a dramatic voice. "Just when it looked like she was going to lose the fight, her friends showed up!" His eyes shone, whether with love for Wondorous Woman or for her faithful companions coming to her aid or both, it was hard to tell. "And they beat the arch nemesis and saved the day!" And everyone went home happy. Young Toshi ran a hand over the comic fondly then passed it to the little green haired kid. "Here!"

The small boy shook his head, pushing it back gently. "Noo... yours!"

"It's a thank you gift!" Toshi insisted. "Please take it."

"But..." He looked at the comic in his hands, brows wrinkling sadly. "S'your favorite... dun wanna take it away...."

"But it would make me happy sharing with you and maybe you'll like her, too!"

The boy made an uncertain face, cradling the comic to his chest. His face showed a hint of a flicker, and he breathed in sharply, reflexively clutching tighter.

Young Toshi smiled. "Thank you," he said.

Wide green eyes stared back, as if to ask what comes next? What now?

Toshi gathered the rest of his comics and put them in his backpack... then held that out to the kid as well. He quickly looked away before he could regret it, instead looking about for the kid's parents. "Do you want to go home now?" where is home?

Izuku took the heavy bag with a grunt of effort, eventually letting it rest on the ground. Okay, I'll carry it for you... it's kinda heavy though. He looked up at the question. "...What?"

"Home? Where you live? Your parents?" He tilted his head at the kid struggling and shouldered the backpack himself, then held out a hand to the little boy. "Wouldn't they be worried you're out alone?"

Izuku's eyebrows wrinkled more, genuinely confused. "Parents?" He wrinkled his nose, vague memories of green hair and soft noises floating through his memory, but not much taking shape. A...alone? Something cold and frightening started to scrape at his heart.

"They're big people that love you. They feed you when you're hungry and play with you when you're bored and take care of you when you're sick and--" Toshi's brow furrowed and he brushed his free hand over his eyes. Then he smiled sunnily down at the little kid. "I bet you have parents looking for you right now!"

Izuku shook his head, eyes sinking towards the ground. "No." He was sure without really knowing why.

"No? That can't be true! You have a great Qu--" His heart hurt to see the little kid he just met so sad. He knelt down, squeezing the small fingers twined with his. "--what I mean is, if you want, I can be uh--" a dad? Not old enough. Family? But they just met. Brother? Maaaaybe? "--we can stick together till we find someone, ok? How's that? Much nicer than being alone."

Izuku looked up wonderingly. Then down at the hand that held his. He stepped a little closer, leaning against Toshi in something like a hug. I like you.

Toshi was wide eyed for a startled moment. Then the biggest grin yet spread across his face. And some warm feeling glowed in his chest again, happy that the little kid felt safe around him. "C'mon," he said. "Lemme show you my favorite spot by the river and we can read all the comics!"

A small smile sprang to life on Izuku's face, then grew to a big grin. "Okay!!" He wrapped his arms around Toshi's neck, ready to be picked up.

"Oompf!!" The kid's weight, coupled with his backpack, made Toshi stagger and he wished for a moment that he was stronger. But the little kid's smile fueled his energy and Toshi proudly carried both kid and comics.

Little Izuku giggled, happily looking about from his new vantage point.

Toshi giggled too then wrinkled his nose as his bangs got caught in his mouth. He didn't want to put his little friend down. "Cou' you ge' my 'air?"

"Huh?" Izuku took a second to get it. "Oh, uh-huh." He pulled Toshi's bang out of his mouth and dropped it, wrinkling his nose and grinning. "Eeeeeeww."

Toshi laughed even harder, his heart swelling with joy. He jogged along the river bank, trying not to jostle the kid. "Yeah, eating hair isn't smart," he snickered. "Extra not my hair--it's loooong!"

Izuku took hold of the other bang, looking at it intently as he bounced along. "Shiny. Like it."

Toshi blinked as the bang's end got in his eyes. "Thanks. Could you hold it out of the way so I can see, please?"

Izuku held it up above Toshi's head, still gazing at it and rubbing the strands between his fingers, fixated on how gold it was in the sunlight.

The pair trotted merrily along, soon at Toshi's favorite tree. He knew he was supposed to put the kid down now but somehow, doing so felt like losing a part of himself. weird, huh? "Uhm," he said.

"Mm?" Izuku dropped the bang and started patting Toshi's head, smushing the floof.

Toshi scrunched his face happily. "Kid!" he said, squatting down and letting small feet touch the ground. "Thanks, I think?" He felt his hair, a bit messier than usual but smooshed with love.

Izuku sat down on the ground, looking up at Toshi. His gaze drifted up towards the tree branches, and he laid down on his back, staring up at them and smiling. One hand reached up as if to touch them.

Toshi flopped beside him, grinning. home? And the grin flickered to confusion for a moment. What? h o m e? He looked to the little kid he just met, the little kid who had saved him, and Toshi felt an overwhelming desire to protect this small person with his small but powerful smiles. He too reached one hand up toward the branches.

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bnha-mha-imagines · 4 years

Note

Soulmate au: Denki’s tattoo is covered up by Jirou and you both don’t know your soulmates. Jirou tried dating him but he rejects and says that he likes you.( prob why she did that) He still refuses even after seeing the fake mark lmao!!!!! I’m hating on Jirou rn

Denki Kaminari x Reader

AU’s: Soulmate tattoo au, college au

Words: 4074

Warnings: Manipulation, loss of friendship, angst on Jirou’s part, fluff on your part :) i didn’t know which character to follow and keep switching lolol

Summary: You and Jirou are best friends, but everything changes when Jirou realizes you and her crush, Kaminari, share soulmate tattoos. She tries her best to keep you apart…

A/N: Literally I haven’t STOPPED thinking of this request since it came in however long ago. I sat down and wrote it and lowkey didn’t realize how long it got haha. Lol why all the hate on Jirou my dude? XD

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You and Jirou have been best friends through thick and thin. From elementary school to U.A, you’ve been together to experience all of life’s biggest moments. You were there when Jirou nailed her first gig, you both took pictures together at all of your homecoming dances, and you’ve taken more road trips together than you’d care to count.

It was no surprise to either of your families when you decided to dorm together at the same university. Some friends find that when they become roommates that their living habits are incompatible; not you and Jirou. With everything you’ve been through together, you regarded her more of a sister than a friend.

Jirou trusted you with all of her insecurities, and you trusted her with all of your secret thoughts. You knew that soulmates existed, but never would you have thought you’d be lucky enough to organically find an additional best friend soulmate! You often joked with her about it: “What if we actually secretly have the same tattoo and we never knew?” You’d both laugh, knowing how ridiculous that would be.

Soulmate tattoos only develop after you’ve first interacted with your soulmate, and seeing as you and Jirou have known each other for most of your lives, you both knew that the joke held no weight. However, this did mean that the both of you had a very real chance of never meeting your soulmates or seeing your tattoos develop. It was a sad thought, but a reality that many people face. But you both were still young and in college, and you were hopeful that you had plenty of time.

Even if you did never find your one true soulmate, you knew you at least had a friend like Jirou who you could live your life with. There was no one else in the world you’d rather spend time with, and you knew if and when your actual soulmate came along that they’d have to learn to share.

Truthfully, you were more in love with the idea of soulmates than Jirou. Where you tended to hold what people would call ‘hopelessly romantic fantasies,’ Jirou considered herself a realist and didn’t mind the idea of finding love that wasn’t divinely ordained. It was a growing practice to date without tattoos, and over time the importance of them seemed to lose its touch. Still, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to give your prospective soulmate some time before you give up on it.

The universe, however, always was a lover of irony! Just your luck that Jirou was the one looking to date but you were always the one getting hit on. You knew it frustrated her, though she would never say. You knew, and while you did your best to hide it, you couldn’t help feeling excited each opportunity a tattoo might develop only to feel disappointed when it never showed. You were both luckless in love, but you were luckless together, and that made it a little better.

That was, until Jirou met some guy majoring in computer science named Denki Kaminari. You’ll never forget her face when she got home that night; she was all grins, and you couldn’t help but tease her about it. You were excited for her, you truly were! She had sat across from you on your bed while she told you all about how they had sat next to each other in a math class.

You watched her lips twitch up as she described how he cracked jokes at her throughout the class while she struggled to stifle laughs. Finally, she told you that they were going to hang out the following night, and you screamed while giggling as if you were little kids again.

You helped Jirou pick out the right outfit, sitting on your bed while she tried on clothes for you. You helped straighten her hair while she carefully drew on a thin line of eyeliner. And then, like a parent sending their daughter off, you waved her out the door in your sweatpants and slippers.

Eventually, one hang out turned into many, and Jirou confessed to you that they had become rather good friends. You remember feeling a little disappointed. “Only friends?” you had asked her while she nodded her head. But, she assured you that she was happy about just being friends with Kaminari. And with a warm smile, you believed her.

After a month, stories of the mysterious Denki Kaminari were no longer satisfying. “Jirou!” you practically pounced on her when she came home from her music theory class. “Take me to lunch with you! I wanna meet your friend!”

Jirou looked at you, and though her eyebrows furrowed slightly, she could find no excuse not to agree. Playing with her earlobe, she nodded her head. “Uh, sure! I’m leaving now, though, I just came to drop off my bag. Are you sure you're ready?”

Hopping away from her, you scrambled to throw on your shoes and fix your hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready!” you reassured her, grabbing your keys and your phone. Looping your elbow around hers, you grinned. “I can’t wait to meet your friend! You talk about him so much.”

Jirou nodded, walking with you across campus to the cafeteria she agreed to meet him at. As you walked, you asked her how her class was; you let her speak even though you had no idea what sort of musical things she was talking about.

Finally reaching the cafeteria, you followed Jirou in and scanned the tables, trying to pick out Kaminari based on the description Jirou had rehearsed to you all those times. “There,” you heard Jirou say before she stepped past you. You followed her quickly, peeking around her back to finally see with your own eyes who this famous friend was.

Your eyes caught his hair first; it was a golden yellow, a bright color that fit the wide grin on his face. Reaching the table, you couldn’t help but inhale sharply. The boy was devilishly handsome, and Jirou’s words had not done him enough justice.

“Hey Jirou!” Kaminari drew out his greeting, standing up to give her a sideways hug. You couldn’t help but chuckle as she got embarrassed and shoved him off her. You could tell that in the time they’ve known each other that they’ve gotten close. “Who’s this?” Kaminari was the one to bring you up, and you gasped.

“Oh! Right, sorry,” you apologized, smiling. “I’m (Y/n), Jirou’s friend. Sorry for intruding on your lunch, I hope you don’t mind!” You stuck your hand out to shake his, and when your skin touched you swear the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

He held your hand a little longer before letting it go, his smile meeting his eyes. “Not at all!” he said warmly. “Especially not someone as cute as you! Jirou, you should bring your friends along more often!” You laughed, a little bashful, before taking your seat. Jirou only rolled her eyes, choosing to sit across from you next to Kaminari.

“So you can hit on all of them? Yeah, gross, stay away,” Jirou spoke, causing both you and Kaminari to laugh.

“Ouch, didn’t know you were so protective of them,” Kaminari feigned hurt. “I’m not that bad, am I?” His eyes were teasing.

Jirou tched, smirking slightly. “Oh, you’re the worst.”

Before you could feel too awkward and left out, Kaminari turned back to you. “So (Y/n)! What’s your major?” You told him, and continued the conversation with a few questions of your own. You both got to know each other rather well, and after only a few minutes of talking you realized why Jirou liked hanging around with him so much.

You were talking so much that your throat was beginning to get dry. You didn’t notice how much time had gone by, talking with Kaminari was just so easy. Suddenly Jirou cut into the conversation. You had almost forgotten she was there. “(Y/n), don’t you have class starting soon?”

You blinked, and a quick glance at your phone had you scrambling to collect your things. “Crap, thanks Jirou!” you said, grabbing your bag from the floor. “Kaminari, it was lovely to meet you! We should all hang out again soon.”

Kaminari smiled, a look of amusement on his face as you quickly grabbed your keys and phone from the table. “Denki works fine. And totally! Before you go, take my number.” You exchanged contact information, too busy rushing to notice the look Jirou had on her face. Waving goodbye to both of them, you hurried to class.

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened the next day.

“JIROU!!!!” you screamed from the bathroom. Jirou practically fell out of her bed, reaching the bathroom just as you opened the door. Steam from your shower leaked out from the bathroom into your bedroom. You held a white towel around your body, your hair still coated in shampoo.

“What, what happened?!” Jirou asked, worried. You had a strange expression on your face, wide eyes and a slight flush to your cheeks. With a trembling hand, you lifted your arm to reveal a small design on your wrist. Jirou’s heart seemed to jolt violently as her eyes traced the tiny outline of a lightning bolt on your skin. “I-Is that…?” she couldn’t seem to finish the question.

“Yes!” you screamed again, laughing. Despite the wet towel covering your body, you gave Jirou a tight hug which she returned. Excitedly jumping together, you gushed for a few moments over the tattoo before Jirou forced you to finish your shower.

Once she heard the water go back on, Jirou let her face fall. It couldn’t be because you met Denki yesterday, was it? The universe would have to be cruel to pair you with the one person she’d managed to fall in love with. “No,” she reassured herself with a hushed voice. “(Y/n) had a class yesterday where they met tons of new people. With 50 people in there, it’s much more likely that they met their soulmate there.”

Jirou sat back down on her bed, reasoning with herself as she waited for you to finish showering. She rehearsed that same line over and over in her head so that she could tell you it when you got out again. You met them in your class. You met them in your class.

That night, Jirou was getting ready to leave. You watched as she threw on a hoodie and slid on the converse she had converted into slip ons. “Where are you off to?” you asked curiously. “Going to see Denki?” Jirou didn’t miss the way your voice raised with interest at his name.

With her back to you, you didn’t see the way she rolled her eyes. “No,” she said casually. “Just going to the music practice room again.” She peeked back to see you nod your head and reimmerse yourself into the Netflix show playing on your laptop. Releasing a small, relieved sigh, Jirou left before you could ask any more questions. It wasn’t that she liked lying to you, but she couldn’t help but feel irritated about how chummy you and Denki have gotten recently. The fact that you developed a soulmate tattoo didn’t help either. Besides, he had texted her specifically to come over, not you. She was excited for some alone time with him.

Walking down the familiar path to his dorm building, Jirou let the cool air calm her worries. Trying to reassure herself, she made her way up to Denki’s room and knocked on the door. She barely finished before the door swung open and he pulled her in. “Denki, what?!” Jirou cried, startled.

“Thank goodness you’re finally here, Jirou! You walk like a grandma!” Kaminari said jokingly as he closed the door.

Jirou snorted, her heart warming. Right now, it felt like it did before she introduced you to Denki. Just the two of them in his room, joking around. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” she said, taking a seat on the beanbag that she’s come to love. “So what’s with the urgent texting?” she prodded, a teasing smile forming on her face. “Forgot the notes in class again?”

Kaminari scoffed, crossing his arms with a smile. “No,” he said. “That was one time… okay maybe two. But, no, I texted you because of this!” Jirou felt her heart shatter before Denki even rolled up his sleeve all the way. No way. There was no way. But, the ink didn’t lie. There, on his wrist, was the same small lightning bolt that Jirou had seen that afternoon on your skin.

Jirou swallowed the heartbreak in her throat, keeping a calm face. “You got a soulmate tattoo?” she asked softly. Denki nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Can you believe it!? These are like… super rare now! I swear, I thought I was gonna go my whole life without ever meeting my soulmate. But look!” Jirou didn’t want to look. “That means they’re here on campus somewhere. I interacted with them! Can you believe it?”

Jirou could only manage to nod her head, but it seemed enough for Denki who was dominating the conversation.

“Jirou,” Denki said, his smile audible in his voice. “What do I do? I have no idea what to do!” Jirou’s heartbeat was pounding in her ears. She took a few seconds before she started to answer, willing the tears in her eyes to stay put.

“Well, Denki…” she started, and at the serious tone in her voice he quieted. “It’s not really popular anymore to have a soulmate.” The venom in her words was hidden perfectly, and he didn’t seem to pick up on it as he slowly spoke.

“What are you saying?” he asked, the excitement gradually dying in his voice.

Jirou couldn’t help the words coming from her mouth. “It’s out of fashion, Denki. People are going to think you’re shallow if you wave that around.” Seeing the pain spark in his eyes, Jirou swallowed. “Most people just ignore it and date whoever, you know?”

Denki was silent, tracing one finger over the mark on his wrist gently. “I mean,” Jirou continued, “you could keep it but… I really wouldn’t. Here, let me help you hide it.” Denki still didn’t say anything as Jirou began to dig the foundation out from her bag.

Bringing the chair closer to Denki’s, Jirou gingerly grabbed his hand and began to blot away the small tattoo. The concealer was slightly off color, but it was enough to do the trick. Satisfied with her work, she tried to calm the pounding of her heart. “S-See?” she spoke, breaking the silence. “Just like normal.”

“Yeah,” Denki mumbled finally. Jirou didn’t like seeing him this dejected, but she knew that it had to be done. She knew she could make him happy if he just… noticed her.

“I know what’ll cheer you up,” Jirou offered. Denki lifted his head slightly, eyes dull. “I’ll play a movie. You know… like old times!” Getting no yes or no from Denki, Jirou put a movie on while he sat on his couch. Turning off the lights, Jirou grabbed a blanket and plopped down next to him. As the movie played, she noticed how he kept glancing down at the covered tattoo on his wrist. With a dash of annoyance, Jirou curled up closer to him. He’ll forget about it, she knew. He’ll have her, and he’ll forget all about you before he ever got the chance to know you.

After that day, Jirou tried to keep you from Denki as best as she could. She was the only one who knew about both of your tattoos, so as long as neither of you found out, she should be able to get away with it. She’d ask you about different classmates to throw you off. “Did he have the mark?” “No…” “Maybe it was that other classmate then!” And for a while, this seemed to work… on the surface.

No doubt you were becoming exasperated about finding your soulmate. You retraced your steps many times, but still, you couldn’t find them! As for Denki, Jirou could tell that he was still thinking about his mark. He tried to be present whenever they hung out, but his mind always seemed to drift. The worst part was when you asked about one other. “When will I see Denki again?” “Is (Y/n) gonna be there?” Gosh, it was insufferable! You only met one time and it’s like you’re already in love!

Having enough of it, Jirou devised a plan. While you were out at class, she walked to your desk and borrowed one of your black sharpies. Carefully with the thin tip, Jirou traced out the delicate shape of a lightning bolt on her wrist. You flaunted it around enough where she had a pretty good mental image of it.

Satisfied with her work, Jirou capped the pen and rubbed at it to make sure it was set in place. Reaching for her phone, Jirou texted Denki. We need to talk. I’ll be over in 5 minutes. She was already halfway to his place when he finally replied with a simple ‘okay.’ Knocking on his door, Jirou invited herself in the instant it opened.

“Are you okay?” Denki asked, concerned. Jirou said nothing, only walking to the center of the room before turning to face him.

“Denki,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t reveal it sooner but… I was worried about ruining our friendship.” Silently, she raised her wrist to reveal the forged tattoo. Denki watched, eyes widening as they landed on the small lightning bolt.

He went to speak but Jirou quickly cut him off. “I know I told you to cover yours up but honestly… I was dumb. I was scared. But I’m not scared anymore and I’m ready to be with you. We’re soulmates, Denki…” Jirou smiled nervously. “We’re meant to be together!”

Denki was speechless, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ahh, wow, Jirou,” he said finally, an awkward chuckle falling from his lips. “I-I… I don’t know what to say.” Jirou felt her nerves wrack through her.

“You don’t have to say anything. We can just… continue like we were! We were practically dating anyways…” At this, Denki seemed to jump, startled. Jirou’s mouth went dry.

“W-Woah woah woah,” Denki defended himself quickly, waving his hands in front of him. “We weren’t dating before… b-besides, Jirou. I’m flattered, really but… I… I already have a date with (Y/n) in a bit.”

Jirou stopped breathing for a moment. “W-What?” Jirou had forgotten that you both exchanged numbers… did that mean you both had started to hang out without her? Wait… no. He didn’t know about your tattoo, there was no way. “Can’t you cancel? Denki, look at my wrist!”

Denki sighed, the nervous smile falling from his face. “Jirou, look. Weren’t you the one who said that soulmates didn’t mean anything anymore? Well… maybe you’re right. The truth is, you’re a good friend! But, soulmate or not, we just don’t… have chemistry like that. I’m sorry. Please don’t make this worse than it has to be.”

Jirou couldn’t move. Her brain seemed to stop firing completely at his words. After a moment of waiting for a response, Denki sighed. “I’m sorry. But, uh… I actually have to go meet (Y/n) so…” he checked his watch. “I don’t wanna rush you, so just lock the door before you leave? ...text me later. We can talk more later if you need.”

And then, just like that, he was gone through the door. Jirou’s hands fell limp at her sides, staring where Denki once stood. She felt her knees buckle before she hit the ground, a silent sob rippling through her. Angrily, she scrubbed raw at her wrist, only barely smudging the ink. Her phone buzzed tauntingly, your name lighting up her screen like salt to the wound. Vision blurred with tears, she blocked your call.

“Aww man, Jirou!” you hissed under your breath at the sound of her voicemail, pulling the phone from your ear. With a sigh, you set the phone on your lap, your legs swinging gently off the bench. Right now, you could have used a word or two or encouragement from your friend.

Sure, you knew you hadn’t told her about the date yet, but were you really at fault? Jirou had grown oddly distant recently, and you barely had a chance to speak to her these days. She was always running off to the practice room, though you had a feeling she may have been lying a few times about it.

At first she’d been happy to help you find your soulmate, helping you pick out which guy to investigate. But once you ran out of classmates, she seemed to abandon the search all together! You could only think of one other person… the boy who you were currently waiting to meet on the campus bench.

You and Denki had been texting ever since you exchanged numbers, though this was going to be the first time you saw each other since your first meeting. It seemed rude to hang out together without Jirou, but by now your curiosity had overcome your sensitivity. All you had to do was look at his wrist. You just had to know…

“(Y/n)?” you heard a voice call your name, and you looked up to see none other than Denki Kaminari walking towards you. He seemed a little on edge, but one flash of your smile and he seemed to relax completely.

“Denki! Hey! Good to see you again,” you chirped, standing up to give him a hug. Though this was technically only your second meeting, you felt as though you practically knew him already from all of your late night conversations.

His arms hung around you for a little longer than an ordinary hug would have lasted, but you liked the way it felt nonetheless. Pulling away, your smile softens a bit. “So…” you start slowly, your voice adopting a tone of apology. “This may seem a little strange or old-fashioned…but I think it’s worth a shot.”

You watched Denki’s expression carefully, his eyes willing you to continue. You bashfully played with your thumbs. “Do you… do you think I could see your wrist?” You watched his eyes widen, and immediately fear you overstepped a boundary.

“A-Ah,” you stutter, quickly back-tracking. “I swear I’m not a weirdo, it’s just--!! Here, look.” Without a question, you push up your sleeve and offer your wrist to him, revealing the small thunderbolt tattoo.

Denki’s breath hitches, and you observe his reaction carefully. “No way,” he mutters breathily. “Thats--”

“A soulmate tattoo, I know,” you laughed softly, already beginning to drop your wrist. “They’re rare, but I got lucky! Well, not too lucky. I can’t find them anywhere! That’s why I, you know...” Denki didn’t move, and you were beginning to suspect he didn’t have what you were looking for.

“Sorry for making it weird. I didn’t mean to lead you on, it’s just that… I need to find them. I’m sorry, maybe I should--”

“No, wait!” Denki cut you off, catching your wrist as you turned to leave. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as he turns your wrist over to stare at your mark again. After a moment, he wordlessly turns over his own wrist, and with a few hard scrubs… reveals his own hidden tattoo.

You feel a mix of emotion at the sight, gently taking his wrist in both of your trembling hands. “I-It is you…” you gasp. “But you covered it up.” Hearing your voice droop slightly, Denki takes your hands in his own.

“I didn’t want to,” Denki explained quickly. “I think we’ve both been misled.”

You paused a moment before realization dawned on you. “D-Do you mean that… that Jirou?” Denki nodded, taking you into another tight hug.

Face pressed into his chest, you allow yourself to be washed over by his warmth. He smelled like lemongrass and lavender, and the feeling of his lips pressing against your hair filled you with an indescribable tenderness.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he said, a choked laugh sounding from his chest. “I found you, (Y/n). I found you.”

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caprina-mints · 4 years

Note

Could we maybe get a scenario where EJ is in heat and doing the dirty with his s/o if that’s fine ówò

So This Became a Oneshot Because I accidentally made it a bit too Long! But I Hope everyone Enjoys This Though! : )

Type : SMUT

Word Count : 4208

E.J's HEAT

As Usual it's like any other Day at the Mansion being part of this bizarre family is really one heck of a ride. You never know what could happen like anything could happen. Anything.

You're fresh meat. You just joined the family two months ago and getting used to everyone and their behavior was a real pain in the ass.

But surprisingly you clicked well with Toby and E.J the two both have a unique and striking personality but the one that intrigued you the most was Jack.

He gives off a cold and mysterious vibe and you just can't help but to have your curious eyes gleaming at him. You two got along well and he told you a little bit of everything when it came to the human anatomy.

He's a bit over protective of you maybe it's because he sees you as a trusted friend? Well during those 2 months You and Him became a little Mushy together and a week earlier he has been acting extremely weird.

Like, He'd growl if another male creep came near you or even talked to you. He's around you all the time and the only place you're actually alone is your bedroom.

He kept tugging and nudging you just to get his attention and whenever you give him any form of physical touch he'd purr and lean onto you .

He's become very clingy and from the looks of it. It wasn't good judging from the looks the creeps were giving you.

They knew something You don't. Today you were sent on a Job which is unusual because you never get sent out alone but you are now.

Fortunately the Job was easier than expected so you went back to the mansion early.

You barely even touched the door and a Body was sent flying out knocking you along with it.

Groaning you sat back to see who it was and it was none other than the resident smile kid, Jeff.

" What the fuck? " You groaned standing up and brushing your clothes off of the remaining dirt.

" Y/n!... You're fucking back!? " Jeff sounded nervous and bothered seeing you and his expression and tone made it so obvious it offended you.

" Yeah? What's wrong with it? You think I'd never come back because of a tiny Job? " You threw a sharp glare his way and he didn't seem to give a reaction to your attempt on intimidating him .

" You gotta go. Now! ASAP! " Jeff tried shoving you back into the forest and you were dragged on the way.

" Hey! Let me go! What gives!? " You grumbled trying to pry his hand away from your wrist.

But your action was cut short when you heard a loud Yell which sounded more like an animalistic Growl come from inside the mansion.

" What the fuck? What's going on Jeff?! " You asked in panic and at the corner of your eye you could see Jeff Visibly Swallow.

It was definitely serious.

" Did you guys summon a Demon or something!? To get revenge on slenderman? " You jumped to your own assumptions because if he isn't giving you an answer you're going to make your own assumptions .

" No why on earth would we do that? Ok I would! But our Demon Boy is Going In Heat which means He's basically A Cageless Feral Beast on the Loose! " Jeff explained as he continued to drag you deeper into the forest but his pace had increasing by every passing second.

" What does it have to do with me!? " You yelled looking back at the doors of the mansion which were now pounding violently.

" Are you Dumb? Isn't it obvious? He's a demon. He's in heat. If Demons are in Heat they look for a Mate to Fuck and You're unfortunate enough to Have E.J see you as a potential Mate " Jeff explained and you were actually quite shocked by his statement... That's the most well executed Explanation you heard him say.

" Wow.. You sounded kinda uh... Less stupid when you said that " You commented which earned a groan of annoyance from the bleached Smile Child.

You two didn't manage to get far when the doors burst open and you could see. A Black figure heading your way at full speed and following behind that figure were Masky, hoodie, Toby, Ben , Helen and Even Puppeteer Seemed to be involved with the chase.

" Run! They couldn't Hold Him much Longer! " Ben yelled coming out from the mansion and Immediately You Bolted off with Jeff at Full speed never looking back.

You were actually terrified ... 1. if you stay You get Fucked By E.J who you have a hidden feeling for which is... Uh.. Kinda Great? But... 2. I heard Demons Eat their Partners After Sex and you definitely don't want to end up dead. It must be a fact because the one who told you about that was a demon... Jack himself.

" Mate! " You heard a rough growl from behind you his voice Echoing through the woods and when you looked back to take a peek boy were you scared shitless.

He was running on all fours his mask off and his teeth razor sharp, his claws extended and looked extra deadly and he has this domineering aura with him that made every cell of your body shout RUN. Behind him were the rest of the Boys Following Behind and even Puppeteer's strings couldn't hold him.

" Shit He's Catching up! " Jeff yelled and you couldn't help but give off a snarky comment.

" Ya Think!? " You snapped , Your feet were getting tired from running because you just got back from a fucking Mission. You didn't expect to be served a full course of Bullshit when you got back.

" Y/n! " Oh Lord the way he growled out your name made your knees weak and you stumbled on a rock but lucky for you Jeff wasn't being a prick and he pulled your weight back up while running .

" Don't Touch Her! " E.J's threatening Snarl was heard from behind and his Voice changed to something more vicious and ruthless.

" Jack! Stop Chasing Us! " You Cried out because your legs couldn't Take it Anymore, You were panting, sweaty and most of all Traumatized.

You once lived as a normal human who knows nothing about Demons and This World of killers. You were just dragged in unexpectedly and you can't take everything in one go! .

" Then Stop Fucking running from me! " You didn't expect him to reply and you felt relief wash over you.

" So you'll stop chasing us if we stop running? You'll Leave us alone? " You asked making sure you and him are on the same page.

You heard a loud audible growl before you heard his answer.

" Yes " It sounded forced judging by his tone and you were skeptical at first but Jeff had other plans and saw right through His.

" Don't listen to Him! I've lived with Him longer and obviously He's Lying! " Jeff stated and his words made the angry demon boy growl at Jeff, as if he was warning Him.

" Jeff. Don't Fucking Test Me! " He barked and that was enough to silence both of us.

" I can't take it anymore. Jeff even though you're an asshole you're gonna have to live on " You panted and Jeff Flashed you a questioning Look. You didn't bother to reply because it's time to face your fears.

You stopped on your tracks as you turned around Closing your eyes expecting the worst .

You felt sharp claws tug on your hips and your back was slammed on a nearby tree.

You heard growling , the type of growl a prey gives to a little bunny... Yeah it was that scary.

You forced your eyes to peek a look and you saw E.J's figure towering over yours baring his sharp teeth and his claws dug deeper on your flesh making you whimper.

" Why'd you run!? Especially with another man! You like others touching you Huh!?" He spat out angrily his face dangerously close to yours. He was using the same tone earlier and it made you weak.

" Why'd you chase us!? Of course it's a common instinct to run if you see something chasing you... Ready to eat you" You murmured the last part but E.J heard it loud and clear.

" I just wanted to be close to You But you ran away... You don't want to be with me that much? " He whimpered almost like a small dog who was abandoned by his owner.

He nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck your sweet smell intoxicating him but he knew he had to control himself.

His claws were no longer as sharp as they were before and you could hear him purring while rubbing himself on your form.

" Guilt Tripping me is a really old move E.J " You chuckled trying to pry him off you but he whined holding onto you even tighter.

Oh what the hell I'm going with it.

You placed your hand gently on his head petting his locks of brown hair, he started purring and leaned on your touch his hands going lower but the two of you were interrupted.

" Y/n! Get away from Him! " You heard the familiar voice of Jeff and this time Masky, hoodie and the rest were here.

You didn't get to react because Jack pulled you in his arms growling at the other males. Baring his teeth and almost hissing at them Jack took a few steps back with you.

" Stick your noses to your own fucking business! "

" Jack! She may be a potential mate but we can't have you fucking someone in the mansion just because of your heat. You may not even feel anything for-"

" She is MY mate, she is Mine to Keep and Mine to Love. I don't need your opinion to tell me what to Do! She'll be mine forever and I'll stay true to my words now fuck off! " Jack Snarled glaring at everyone else . The boys seemed to be communicating in a telepathic way because they just exchanged a few looks to one another before finally leaving.

" Y/n...last call if you don't want to just say so we'll help you" Hoodie called out and when you gave the slightest reaction to his question Jack Started whining and whimpering almost like he was physically hurt.

" Uh... I'll be Fine " You answered and Hoodie nodded walking off.

" So- Ah! " You squealed when you were thrown over his shoulder.

" Jack! Wait where are we going? " You asked when he started walking the opposite direction of where hoodie and the rest were heading.

".... I have a cottage around here whenever I'm having my heat... " He answered in a hushed tone .

You looked back at his features and you noticed how he kept realising puffs of breaths, His Face was oddly a different shade that usual and his hands were really fidgety.

" Jack if I'm heavy you can put me dow-"

" And let you run away again? you're not doing that you little Brat. Running away like that with another man. Oh you like teasing me don't you? " His tone was deep and taunting and you could feel his hand crawling its way up your ass.

You felt him squeeze your butt cheek making you gasp and groan when he smacked your ass.

" Jack stop! " You grumbled bit he didn't take that lightly.

" Oh? Resisting me too? " His hand trailed lower down to your pussy rubbing your pussy through the thin fabric of your leggings.

You bit back a moan closing your eyes , he didn't like it and started rubbing you at a rougher pace.

He didn't stop while maneuvering his way through the thick forest and by the time you two arrived at a small cottage you were soaked.

You survived that part by swallowing your voice and it seemed to have thrilled him even more taking it as a challenge.

Opening the door he closed it using his feet and immediately threw you on the couch were he towered over you glaring down at your form.

" Holding back your moans I see? You'll be screaming before you know it " He muttered his large hands gripping onto the fabric of your shirt and with ease he tore your shirt to shreds leaving you in your bra and the only piece of clothing you had now were your leggings.

Your heartbeat began to increase as you scooted away from him . He noticed that and grabbed your foot pulling you over in between his legs both of your legs spread and set on each of his sides and you could clearly feel his hardened cock from your position.

" Oops to Late to run away Now" He grinned using his claws to tear the fabric of your bra and before you knew it he attacked your lips in a hungry Kiss his hands groping your boobs, squeezing and pinching your nipples making you moan in the kiss.

He bit down on your lower lip just enough to tear the skin drawing out a small amount of blood before continuing down to your neck and collar bone his sharp teeth pricking your skin feeling him suck, kiss and nip your neck, your shoulder and collarbone.

You tried pushing him off but he had your hands under his grisly grip before licking and taking your cold buds in his warm mouth his tongue playing and swirling around your breast giving a subtle bite before sucking on your breast each Mounds having the same amount of attention and pleasure.

You arched your back moaning slowly giving into the pleasure he released your hands before shoving two of his fingers inside your mouth . You got the hint and welcomed his fingers inside your mouth sucking and coating his fingers with your saliva while continuing his unfinished worked with your breast.

After awhile he pulled his fingers away and faster than you could say 'I' your leggings along with your soaked panties were ripped and thrown to the floor gasping when the cold air hit your glistening pussy and the very same fingers you sucked on earlier came rubbing on your clit earning a loud shaky moan to tear away from your throat.

He looked so smug seeing how wet you were and he didn't waste another second and placed both of your legs on his shoulders his face dangerously close to your heated flower .

" J-jack Wa- Ahh~" You couldn't stop him when his long Black tongue came lapping on your juices.

His tongue draped over your pussy in a slow and agonizing way making you whine and glare up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

He chuckled at your needy state before his teeth came in contact with your inner thighs biting down on your flesh making you flinch and squeak.

He left a noticeable bite mark on your inner thighs before his teeth grazed on your other thigh doing the same thing while your slick covered pussy was needy for his attention.

" Jack please " You whined biting your bottom lip and hearing you plead for him to give you more aroused him further.

His tongue sneakily slid past your folds and into your squelching pussy , your moans shaky and desperate your hands flailed around to find something to hold on and subconsciously you held onto his brown messy locks raking your fingers through his hair as his tongue went in and out of your fleshy walls and your walls wet and needy welcomed him desperately sucking his tongue in.

You could feel him so deep inside of you it made you squirm and cry out his name in pleasure.

How long is his tongue!?.

Your hips bucked and rocked while he ate you out his tongue playing freely inside you but that was when another tongue rolled out of his mouth and another one.

" Oh shit Jack! " You screamed when he inserted another one while the shorter one lapped on your clit and teased your folds.

Your core lit up when both of his tongues came wiggling inside your walls only making your walls clench tightly around his tongues and when a bubbly and hot sensation built up inside you and was ready to release he pulled back his chin and mouth covered by your juices and slowly dropped down on his chest. He stared at you with a lascivious grin when you grumbles and whine for him to finish what he started.

" You were resisting and running away from me earlier... Look at you now... So wet and Needy for me... What do you want mate? " He purred as he pulled down his pants along with his boxers revealing his thick veiny cock which was bigger than you expected.

How's that supposed to fit?

As if he read your expression he gave you an answer.

" Oh it's gonna fit. I'll make sure you're taking every inch of me for making me go through all that trouble chasing you around like a mad Dog" He growled his figure growing bigger , his ears began to grow longer as well as his claws . Now you know that this is the demon Jack had been hiding.

" Answer me! " He spat at you his hand snaking to your throat slightly choking you and damn hell it sure did turn you on.

" Your Cock... Fuck me till I can't walk anymore " You choked out and that was enough for him to ram his whole length in not even going gentle at first. He didn't give you time to adjust because technically this isn't Jack anymore. He slid inside easily because of how wet you were to begin with .

" Oh- Shit Jack! " You couldn't even finish your sentence because you were choked up in your own moans.

He was going so fast, You felt his Knot and the very shape of his Cock mold inside your pussy. He hit the deepest part of you with every fast and rough thrust.

His speed was in human and it felt so good you almost forgot how to breathe being choked up and at the same time being a moaning mess from his roughness.

You heard his gruff groans and pants not even holding back a loud snarl he placed both of his hand right next to your head trying to steady himself as he pounded is inside you mercilessly and everytime he pumped himself in, your walls would gladly squeeze the life out of him.

An animalistic growl escaped his lips as he gritted his teeth, his claws digging and ripping into the cushion of the furniture and you heard something crack. Was it the couch or the wooden floor.

Tears began to pool at the corner of your eyes holding onto his neck for dear life your legs tightly wrapped around his torso , you couldn't keep up with how rough he is you began to feel dizzy.

Every time he snapped his back and rammed himself in he could reach the deepest depths he could .

Your toes curled arching your back while moaning in pleasure as you reached your high releasing your juices all over his cock. Your walls dangerously clenching his cock which led him to bite down on your shoulder finally releasing his thick seeds deep inside of you.

Panting while staying on that position he pulled himself out of your cum filled pussy that leaked out his seeds.

He sat back on the couch panting before his hand came down on his cock jerking himself while staring at you.

It didn't take him 5 seconds and he was already rock hard.

Oh wow.

He yanked you by your arm and you sunk down on your knees infront of him with his cock standing hard with all its glory.

This time he guided your hand on his shaft letting you stroke him.

Did he really think you're that innocent? Hah. Just watch.

At first your movements were shy and timid and you stuck your tongue out a little to give his tip a few kitten licks.

Looking down at you he saw such an adorable expression in your face. He didn't expect you to directly take his whole cock in your mouth in one go unexpectedly.

He was completely caught of guard his clawed hand pulled on your hair and a loud breathy moan was forced out of his throat staring at you with wide eyes.

" Fuck " He groaned out when you started bobbing your head up and down while occasionally pulling away with a pop before trailing your tongue from his base up to his tip.

The sight of you was really something he'd kill to see. Kneeling right there with an Innocent face while taking his cock like that. Shit he found it extremely hard to control himself around you.

It didn't help when you took him whole once again your hands going down to massage his balls while increasing your speed.

You were so pretty and so good with your tongue. He just had to have you right now and that's exactly what he did.

He stood up shoving your head down on the couch befire you felt him his cock enter you again .

Gasping in surprise you felt his clawed had dig into the skin of your hips and your pussy took him in so tight and so well it made the both of you moan in sync.

Shit how the fuck are you still this tight after he literally wrecked you earlier? .

He didn't much for awhile and it irritated you. You wanted him to fuck you already. You raised your hips but his grip on your flesh made it hard to do so.

" Fucking Move! " You groaned clutching onto the cushion of the couch.

" I'm fucking working on it you impatient little Mate" He pulled back only to push himself back in again.

It made you moan and shudder your knees shaking and your hands trembling as you held onto the seat of the couch when he started ramming himself in again and again .

Your pussy swallowing his cock deep inside you every time he did so. You sucked him inside your walls so well he was so close to releasing again.

You cried out and loud pants and mewls filled the room because you were still so fucking sensitive and you were still being fucked by him at such an animalistic way.

You felt his weight in your hips and he started going even faster. You were practically drooling while moaning out his name.

Your mind felt so mushy and you were slowly seeing stars.

You started moving your hips to meet his thrusts and every time you did he kept hitting that one spot that could make you scream .

You cursed under your breath and felt your walls hugging his cock even tighter. He looked down on you seeing you at such a vulnerable state under his mercy was really something. A growl rumbling at the back of his throat. You were squeezing onto his cock like you were ready to milk him dry.

His thrusts became shallow but soon he sped up almost immediately catching his breath while you made a lot more sinful sounds underneath him.

After a few more thrusts the two of you came at the same time your cum mixed with his and you could feel it leaking out of your hole because of how much was inside. Panting while trying to keep yourself from fainting he stayed at that position for awhile before leaning down to trail soft kisses on your bare back.

" ... after my heat you are obligated to Date me. If you say otherwise... I have my ways to get you around-"

" Oh my God Jack I love you too ok? No need to go that far " You grumbled and from you position you heard his chuckle and another kiss was planted on your back.

" I'm glad you do Y/n "

" Oh and... You're not gonna eat me right? " You asked cautiously and he was quiet for a few seconds before he burst out laughing.

" You seriously believed what I said? I was just Joking Little Mate "

" Tsk... Fuck you Jack "

" Oh I see that you're ready for another round"

By the Time you two were finally done you were cum soaked and sticky, the two of you hopped in the shower but it led to something more again.

#creepypasta #SMUT #Creepypasta smut #Creepypasta Oneshot #Eyeless Jack x Reader #Eyeless Jack Smut #Send in more asks Lovelies!💞#Heats #Eyeless Jack x s/o #Smutshot

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Mine

2. I’m fine, don’t I look fine?

Genre: Yoongi x OC

Warnings: anxiety/panic attack

Word Count: 2.6k

The world is closing in around me, my lungs straining as they try to work through the heavy gulps of air that I can’t quite seem to get enough of. Any thought of sleep has long checked out of my brain, my body taking over when my brain decidedly burned out.

My phone sits where I tossed it on my bed, the light from the constant flow of notifications being the only source of illumination in the hotel room as I cling to the curtains hanging from the window. Jaw clenched, hair a mess from all the times I’ve pondered just yanking it out, nostrils flared as I devour any hint of oxygen.

Fumbling hands push against the window until I manage to find the latch, a near-silent whimper escaping me as the cool London air floods the stuffy room. It doesn’t take long until I’m down on the floor, arms and legs pulled into my core head buried along with the rest of my mental capacity.

I can’t decide which is worse. Closing my eyes and falling into that black abyss, or rocketing back up to the window, drinking in the air even as my eyes take in the city before me, reminding me of just how small and helpless I am.

Everything, everything I have become and worked for scooped up in the palm of some man I’ve never met. There I am, right there. Falling from his hands like sand and he doesn’t even realize all that he’s holding.

The only hope I have left is that Min Yoongi has decided to create a castle with the remnants of me in his hands, and isn’t planning to wreck my tiny fortress with a well-timed stomp of his foot like some child on a playground. He must know, right? That while this may seem like some sort of trivial recess drama, it could end me? He will survive, because he’s loved the world over.

The world doesn’t know me well enough yet to even ascertain whether or not it loves me, but depending on what this stranger says about me will surely make up the world’s mind.

Like coming out of a deep sleep I begin to hear the constant vibrations of my phone on my bed. Someone is trying to call me. I don’t want to answer.

Moreover, I’m not sure I can answer.

Eventually the sounds fade out again. Laying there on the ground before the window, I stare up at the ceiling. Naturally my eyes drift to the smoke detector, its small blue light holding me hostage even as I cling to that unspoken beacon of reality. It’s something so starkly normal; so completely common that I find my airways begin to open up bit by bit.

The world is still spinning.

I am still breathing.

The sun will rise.

And Min Yoongi will have hell to pay.

🌙

What started as a gentle tap against my door quickly turns into an attempted breakin from the sounds of it. I jump up, forgetting where I am for a moment before I finally settle back down with a groan.

I would personally not recommend the Waldorf to anyone purely based on the quality of their floors on my back.

“Who is it?” I manage to croak out. The state of my throat serves as a reminder of my panic attack the night before. I wince, flipping around onto my stomach so I can stretch.

“It’s Sebastian you ungrateful little weirdo, now open up this door before I-”

I yank the door open, coming face to face with a red in the face Sebastian Stan. If I wasn’t currently fearing for my life I would have chuckled at the picture before me: Sebastian raging while doing his best to not crush the muffin he extends to me. He isn’t completely successful; there are imprints of his fingers on the base of my muffin, but I don’t mention it.

“Did you just call me an ‘ungrateful little weirdo’? T-that’s not very nice.” I curse myself for my stutter, but I can’t help it as the weight that dragged me down last night comes crashing into me all over again.

Sebastian closes the door behind him, looking around my hotel room like a bloodhound on a hunt. He lets out a triumphant shout when he comes across what he was looking for.

“This is quite the contraption. It allows people to communicate with you. All you have to do is press accept and then they can talk to you at all hours of the day and night.” Snatching my phone up from where I left it abandoned on the bed he hoists it up in the air. “Did you seriously ignore my calls all night? And everyone else’s?”

He takes a look at my lock screen, eyebrows furrowing when he sees that I haven’t even opened my phone since the night before. Slowly, he takes in the bed which is only a little wrinkled from where I laid on it. I hadn’t even had time to get beneath the covers before I shot out of my bed like a bolt of lightning. I can see the gears shifting in Sebastian’s head. It’s clear that I didn’t sleep in my bed last night. But if I didn’t sleep there then...

“Did you go somewhere last night?” His voice is quiet now, although I find that I prefer the yelling than I do the quiet.

“No.”

“No? Then why is your bed still made?” He looks at me, but I make myself busy by shoving the muffin into my mouth. I know my face probably is red and blotchy from the stress tears I shed the night before. Setting the muffin down on the table, I make my way to the bathroom. Maybe if I can wash my face, he won’t notice.

Sebastian follows me wordlessly. Quickly I reach for some facial scrub, turning the faucet on.

Sebastian turns it off. I glare, but remain with my eyes downward. I turn it back on.

He turns it off.

“This is fun,” I growl out, going to turn the faucet back on but finding his hand planted firmly atop it. “But I don’t quite get the point of this game.”

“Look at me.”

Sometimes, I really hate the fact that Sebastian has gotten to know me so well. I blame the crew of “Young Rising”, they were the ones who decided to cart us off to the middle of nowhere with no one to talk to except for each other and a few other actors or crew members that popped in and out.

Sebastian’s tone has lost its edge when he speaks again, and I can tell that he’s starting to regret his temper tantrum from earlier. “Cara, look at me.”

Too exhausted to play this little game any further, I raise my head. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, eyes still red and puffy, dried tear-tracks sticking to my cheeks. I look like a complete mess.

When I deem enough time has passed I reach for the faucet and throw it on, ripping open my facial bar. Sebastian stands there silent, connecting the dots.

“Happy?” I bite out, eyes shut tight against the suds. My friend doesn’t say anything. When I finally finish up, he hands me a towel.

Peaking my eyes open I find my friend leaning up against the counter with a faraway look in his eyes. When he notices my stare he comes back to life, silently opening his arms. I finish drying my face before tossing the towel aside and inching forward until Sebastian pulls me into his embrace.

There’s a part of me that thinks that now would probably be a good time to cry again, but I can’t find the tears. Instead I just rest my head against his chest, feeling like a crumbling husk.

“I didn’t realize, Car. That was uncalled for, my anger. I shouldn’t have called you, I- I should have just come over here-”

I shush him before he can get too far in his head. “Don’t worry about it,” I mumble against his chest.

“But, wait.” He moves so he can see my face. “Where did you sleep?”

I bite my lip, ignoring the way his eyes drift down to watch the action with more focus than required. “I’ll tell you one thing: these floors suck.”

Sebastian’s rolling laugh manages to bring a small smile to my face, although it serves as the final nail in my coffin when it suddenly stops, something dawning on his face.

“Oh yeah, Rhea wants to meet with us. Hurry and get ready.” I nod, already sure that our director will no doubt want to discuss the current situation. It doesn’t take long for me to throw some decent clothes on, Sebastian waiting outside my room.

“Ready?” He asks, significantly more chipper than just a few minutes ago.

“Yeah, ready.” Sebastian looks me over, smirking. “What?”

“You don’t have your phone, do you?”

I groan, heading back inside as Sebastian chuckles. “Do I really need it?” I already know the answer, though. Wincing as I assess the damage, that being twenty-six missed calls from several different people and double the amount of texts, I head back out.

“Ok, now let’s go.”

🌙

The small conference room on the second floor of the Waldorf is already filled to the brim with noise by the time I enter, Sebastian close behind me. All it takes is one look at me and the worried expression I masked a heartbeat too late for it to die down.

“How are you doing, sweetie?” Rhea, the director and evil genius behind “Young Rising” comes up to me and gives me a warm smile. I nod, trying my best to return the smile but failing greatly in the “warmth” division.

Sebastian pulls out a seat, plopping down beside me once I’ve taken my seat. The room is still too quiet, a stark construct in comparison with previous meetings where the volume level was at a near constant high.

“Alright everyone, let’s get started!” Rhea takes the lead, looking down at one of her many binders. “We’ve successfully finished shooting ‘Young Rising’, and now we are on to the next stage. Promotions.”

A groan goes around the table, the veterans in show business knowing full well what a nightmare that can be. I remain silent, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone here clearly knows what’s going on, right?

“Sebastian and Cara did a great job on the ‘Graham Norton Show’ last night, let’s give them a hand.” A scattered round of applause echoes around the room, pink blooming on my cheeks. “Last we checked, which was about fifteen minutes ago, one of your clips from the show on Youtube has already reached four million views. People are curious to know who you guys are.”

I look up at Rhea to see her already smiling at me. We both know why people are curious.

“Which clip was it?” Sebastian asks. I refrain from punching him. Rhea sighs, looking down at her notes.

“It was the clip where Cara was informed of her new fan.” People chuckle in the room even as I sink further down into my seat. “That’s mainly what I wanted to talk about in this meeting today. Stephen is going to talk to us a bit more about how we should handle promotions moving forward with this newfound knowledge and the possible advantages and disadvantages we’ll be facing.”

Stephen stands up, fixing his glasses. “Right, so just like Rhea said, I think that we really need to focus on the advantages we’ve just been given. So first, shoutout to Cara for being so likeable.” If I wasn’t trying to disappear before, I definitely am now. Sebastian notices and flicks my elbow. I glare at him, sitting up again. “Now more people that originally wouldn’t have given ‘Young Rising’ the time of day are becoming interested in the film. What their intentions are is uncertain, but we do know that we can use this attention to explain from a higher platform why we think this film is worth seeing.”

Stephen chatters on, going on and on about different techniques we can use to steer interview questions away from our love lives and tie our answers into the film. At some point he passes out an outline, which I’m grateful for. There’s no way I’m going to remember this when it’s finished.

“Now, we should address possible pitfalls as well as instructions for how we should carry ourselves during these promotions. Obviously, this is especially applicable for Cara and Sebastian.” Reaching below the table, Stephen comes up with a handful of envelopes of different shapes and sizes. “Just over the course of the past night, the hotel has delivered over twenty letters to us. They are almost all addressed to Cara. We haven’t read them, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they have something to do with Min Yoongi.” I can’t help but agree when I see one decked out with BTS themed stickers.

“So what are we going to do about all of this?” Sebastian asks.

“Well, there’s not a whole lot we can do except handle it with grace. People are unsure of whether or not they’re Cara’s fans now. That’s difficult to hear, but it’s true. They’re waiting to see how she reacts. While that’s entirely up to your discretion, I would advise you to talk with either me or your personal PR rep before showing your face on social media or in public. You need to be prepared for whatever comes your way. However, from a promotional standpoint, I’d say we should run with this. Use the people’s curiosity to drive them to the movie theater.”

I find myself nodding numbly along with the other people, mind finally quiet. It makes sense, and if we’re being honest, this really is a great opportunity. Yet, I can’t help but feel like nobody else sees this as I do.

Like I’m looking at a door that either opens to another world or that just clanged shut and I’m on the wrong side, forever trapped.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard the latest news, Cara?” Stephen shakes me from my thoughts, and I nod. Of course I have. It’s been all I can think about since that first notification popped up on my phone last night.

“Yeah, are we actually going to do that?” Sebastian asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“I see no reason not to. I think it would be worse to turn down the invitation. And Cara speaks the language, which is an added bonus. We just wanted to clear it with you two first, but we’ve already spoken with a few people from Seoul. They’re more than happy to accomodate us, if we do decide to extend our promotional route. What do you two think?”

If I close my eyes the tweet from last night is still there, glaring up at me.

“‘Young Rising’ cast invited to film festival in Seoul - and BTS’ Suga already RSVPd”

You could hear a pin drop, it’s so quiet. Without opening my eyes I can already tell everyone is looking at me; awaiting my decision. I want to scream at them, tell them that I don’t know. I just wanted to act, I just wanted to be successful. And now that desire has twisted into some sick reality as I face the possibility that I will have to act through every social interaction for the foreseeable future.

Taking a shaky breath I gather my thoughts, reminding myself that if all else fails I can just give Min Yoongi a piece of my mind and then move to the mountains for the rest of my life, far enough that nobody can ever find me.

“I think we should go.”

Previous - Next

taglist is open! Lemme know! Also, these first few chapters are meant to set up who Cara is and what this entire crazy situation is. (I know that seems obvious but just if you’re wondering where the heck Yoongs is, I promise he’s coming.)

taglist: @taylorroe3 @eusticenatalie @agustneeds

#minyoongi #yoongi x oc #yoongi #yoongles #lil meow meow #bts #btsimagine #suga #sugaimagine #sugafanfic #sugafluff #yoongifluff

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phantomrose96 · 4 years

Text

Origin of a Non-Hero

Pro Hero Deku is not that tall of a man… In a simple white t-shirt and khakis, he’s not imposing at all. His 14 year old son, though much scrawnier in frame, is only an inch or two shorter than him.

Pro Hero Deku is not a cruel man. To the contrary, he cares too much, about all things at all times, about everyone and everything he can save if only it could come within his reach. The family counselor knows this. The counselor is surprised that, of all the world’s burdens Deku carries, it would be his family that slipped through his grasp.

Pro Hero Deku’s arms are gnarled and scarred, endlessly broken and re-broken in his youth from trying too much, and caring too much, and fighting too much for the sake of others. So why do they seem so awkward, so unpracticed, so unused to being wrapped in a hug around his son? Why was this boy the last thing for Pro Hero Deku’s arms to reach?

The counselor asks. The raw hurt of the session starts anew.

(This fic is long, heed the Read More)

...

11 people shared the same rigid wooden bench as Shikinori Midoriya. From the glances he stole, all 11 of them were handcuffed. An equal number of armed guards stood at the ready, crowding a waiting area meant to accommodate no more than 10 people. Shoulders rubbed shoulders. Sweat trickled from necks and hairlines. Dampness clung to skin and scales and fur and whatever other quirk-manifested coverings the 11 handcuffed men, and 11 guards, and Shiki bore.

A puttering fan spun in the corner, sad and wheezing and ineffective against the body heat of so many. Shiki kind of resented the fan for all the nothing it was accomplishing.

He leaned his weight into the sturdy bench arm to his left, opting to crush his guts into the furniture rather than lean on the man beside him, who was more knotted muscle and snake tattoos than he was man. Shiki looked again and concluded the man may even be more snake than man. Two sharp fangs stuck out from his mouth and tented his upper lip. His unmarked skin shimmered, a rippling repeated pattern of flesh-covered scales. His tongue shot out and licked the air, forked. Slit-pupiled eyes made momentary, awkward eye-contact with Shiki, and Shiki quickly pretended to be staring elsewhere.

The man seemed familiar. Some villain from some news headline. But Shiki couldn’t place a name, so he didn’t bother thinking about it more. He stared ahead, eyes drifting out of focus, hot. Uncomfortable and hot. Damp and stick-to-his-clothes-sweaty. Just…hot. Unnecessarily so. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. Maybe it wasn’t worth it. Maybe he’d been impulsive, and foolish, and should leave before he gets in any deeper.

The door beside Shiki creaked open. A wizened man with tiny, deep-set, watery eyes motioned him in. Shiki all but jumped to his feet. He tugged at the spots of his shirt that clung sweaty to his back, and he followed. The temperature dropped at least 20 degrees once he crossed the threshold into this new room. The door clicked shut behind Shiki. He startled, and felt a ripple of disquiet shiver down his spine, but Shiki chose not to dwell on it. He was more drawn to investigating the new room, which, he quickly discovered, came with its own kind of sensory-terrible-silence.

The waiting room had been terribly silent – chatterless and buffed with the sounds of breathing, wheezing, throat-clearing, shifting, shuffling, and the tinkering tangle of chains. This time it was an ambient buzz that blanketed the new room, thick and oppressive and syncopated, like a fly trapped in a jar. Shiki traced it to the fluorescent lights overhead. Under their pallor, the watery-eyed man looked half like death. He sat, and motioned for Shiki to sit too in the wooden chair directly across. A table separated them. On Shiki’s side, there was a set of iron cuffs drilled into the table-top, the sort where, if Shiki threaded his arms forward, he could be bolt-locked in place.

Shiki did not acknowledge the cuffs, and neither did the watery-eyed man. They made eye contact, and Shiki instantly understood: this man did not care about him. This man did not care about any of the other people in that waiting room. What gave it away was unclear – maybe the stiffness in his jaw, or the piercing deadness to his horrible ice-blue eyes, or the sterile too-large lab coat crumpling the man’s figure, or maybe none of that. Maybe it was pure human intuition, an instinct honed for survival, that one feels when encountering another human so bereft of empathy that it sticks along every individual neck-hair.

“Sit,” the man said. His tone was sharp, as though he’d been forced to repeat himself. That was somewhat true. He’d already motioned for Shiki to sit. Shiki had been too distracted by the cuffs on the table to comply. He was still distracted now, but he sat this time.

“I’m Dr. Matsuyama,” the man like death continued. He pulled a loose clipboard from the shelf just beneath his side of the table, and he dragged a slightly-trembling hand from his pocket, gray and liver-spotted, trailing an uncapped pen. His eyes became more like pits in this light, but Shiki could see a blue in them that was definitely inhuman. Which wasn’t saying much, since most of the population walked around in definitely inhuman ways. It was quirk-related, no doubt, but endlessly eerie to stare at.

There came a shuffle from the shadows, a shift in the back-left corner of the room that startled Shiki. He looked, and now locked eyes with a man dressed to the nines in an ill-fitting suit. The man pulled at his own lapel, straightening it, as though reading Shiki’s mind about the ill-fitting suit detail.

“Don’t mind Dr. Himura,” Matsuyama continued. “He’s leading the study, so he is observing. I’m conducting this session.” Matsuyama set pen to paper. “What is your name?”

“Shikinori Midoriya,” Shiki answered. “I go by Shiki, among friends.”

“Is there a reason for that?” Matsuyama’s voice had a papery tremble to it, like air whistling through the slit of a barely-cracked window. Listening to it was uncomfortable. Shiki could feel it like a shortness of breath in his own throat.

“Just preference.”

Matsuyama wrote something down.

“How old are you?”

“22.”

“Your quirk?”

“Gravity nullification.” Shiki raised his hands up, palms spread toward Matsuyama. “I can negate the gravity of anything I touch with my fingers, palms, or pads of my toes. Basically any part of my body that has this ridged skin.” He wiggled his wide-spread fingers. The weird fluorescent lighting threw the ridges into stark contrast, valleys of blackness ribbing his fingers, engulfed like Matsuyama’s eyes. “The quirk works on any sized object, but the time limit is shorter for bigger objects.”

Matsuyama let the silence linger as he wrote. His writings filled several lines this time, as Shiki had little else to do than watch the trail of the pen.

“Is your quirk patrilineal, matrilineal, or both?”

“Matrilineal.”

“How does it influence or impede your daily life?”

“It doesn’t much, really. I don’t need it. I don’t really use it. It’s forgettable.”

“What are the negatives to living with your quirk?”

Shiki shrugged. “None much, really, since I don’t use it.”

“Then what brings you here?”

“I mean, just that. I don’t need it. Does it have to be deeper than that?”

Matsuyama wrote. And he wrote for longer than before. Silence draped them again, and it amplified the buzzing from the lights. It was hot again, Shiki realized with agitation. His seat placed him right below the lights, a veritable stage light, targeting him to bake. His neck prickled with sweat. Buzzing. Like a fly in the jar. Fly in a jar, fly in a jar, that flies against the walls each which way and can’t get out, because there is no out, because the jar is sealed, and being unyielding to gravity is no help when the walls close on every side.

“…here?”

“Huh?” There’d been a question. Shiki had zoned out for--

“Did anyone offer you money to come here?”

“Not beyond the 1,500 yen per day,” Shiki responded, collecting himself. “You know, that you guys offered, that 1,500 yen, to cover transport and lunch. But nothing else. No.”

“Did anyone blackmail you to come here?”

“No.”

“Are there any extenuating circumstances to explain why you’re here?”

“None.”

Matsuyama stopped writing. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of Shiki’s neck, lost somewhere between his shoulder blades. He shifted, and rolled his shoulders a little, and edged his hands away from the wrist restraints on the table.

“Do you have any thoughts of self-harm?”

“No.”

“A history of violence?”

“No.”

“Do you consider yourself to be a danger to yourself or others?”

“No.”

“Any history of drug abuse?”

“No.”

“Alcoholism?”

“No.”

“Anxiety or depression?”

Shiki faltered. “I saw a therapist for a bit, a while ago, back when I was a teenager. But it wasn’t anything, like, extreme. You know? Just, stuff.”

“And how do you define ‘stuff’?”

“It—he was a family therapist. My parents are divorced so like, you know, I was a kid – well, a teenager – but that’s still a kid. I mean we saw the therapist when I was a teenager, but my parents divorced when I was 10 before I was a teenager so – the therapist – he was just for, you know, typical stuff. Typical divorced kid stuff.”

Matsuyama wrote, and wrote more, and at length, Shiki said nothing.

“How’s your relationship with your mother?”

“Fine.”

“How does she feel about your participation in this?”

“I dunno, really. I mentioned it to her like once but like, a while ago, before I decided on whether I wanted to do it but like… I dunno. That shouldn’t matter, right? I’m an adult.”

“How’s your relationship with your father?”

“You know, fine.”

“And how does he feel about your participation in this?”

“Like I said, does it matter?” Shiki pressed. He leaned forward, because he could feel his shirt sticking again in back. Under his arms, too. He was grateful for the dark color of his clothing, since Shiki knew from a glance to frumpy Himura that the harsh lighting was unforgiving on sweat stains.

“Is he against it?”

“He doesn’t know about it. Like, he’s busy. And I’m an adult. And it’s not like it’s his quirk or anything since I inherited it from my mom, and it’s my body so I think I should be the one who gets the final say in whether I do this or not don’t you think so?”

Matsuyama left the challenge unmet. It rung through the room around them and petered out to silence. Just an echo left dancing in Shiki’s head. Matsuyama wrote. He only wrote, and Shiki’s heart beat in his own ears.

“My job is to make sure you are of sound mind… uncoerced… unhindered by any self-destructive motivations...” Matsuyama’s pen did not break pace while he spoke, like an automaton. Like a puppet. Endlessly forward, unholy eyes shuffling along line by line. “The Quirk Ethics Board is strict. Dr. Himura has spent the better part of five years at odds with them to get this study off the ground. Be grateful to him, and be patient with me.” And his horrible eyes flickered up, pinning Shiki to the spot. “I can disqualify you, if I think you’re lying to me. So please, some patience, and some cooperation.”

Shiki’s whole body flushed with a shiver, and he realized that perhaps Himura was not the man he should be suspecting of a mind reading quirk.

He leaned back in his spotlight chair, and took a few deep breaths, and wondered how heated his cheeks were. Embarrassment always spiked a blush in them, and Shiki was ashamed to have let his composure slip.

“Your father… wouldn’t you like to tell him, first? There’s no reversing this. We encourage everyone who comes through this room to inform all family, all loved-ones first.”

“No. I don’t want to tell him. Because I know it’ll make him cry. And if I lose my nerve, and back out, I’ll probably never have this opportunity again. I need this decision to be my own.”

Shiki averted his eyes, away from Matsuyama, glancing left and finding himself staring back. A mirror spanned the length of the left wall. A few feet worth of cinderblock stretched from the floor-up, and the ceiling-down, meeting at a mirror that lobbed Shiki’s own reflection back at him. Freckles and green eyes and tousled chestnut hair and cheeks heated with shame and embarrassment.

A one-way mirror. Shiki wondered if there was anyone standing on the other side of it, watching, judging.

The silence lingered, heavier, denser somehow. It took Shiki a few moments to process what had changed.

The scratch of Matsuyama’s pen had vanished. He was not writing. He was staring, instead, at Shiki. Plain to see in the mirror. Waiting for Shiki to face him again. Reluctantly, Shiki looked.

“Your father… is a busy man, you said. He must be very very busy… Shikinori Midoriya.” Matsuyama shuffled his papers into place, and set the clipboard down on the interrogation desk. “If your name, and your appearance, and the leagues and leagues of advertisements, and news headlines, and television specials I see every day paint an accurate picture of who, I suspect, your father is.”

Shiki breathed out, jaw clenched, feeling that familiar dread settle in. He heard a noise from Himura, like a tiny pip, a single note of recognition that Shiki had become well attuned to: that sound of someone putting the dots together, the look in their eyes as they roved over Shiki’s face, as though suddenly giddy to understand his freckles and green eyes and curly hair.

“Midoriya?” Himura leaned forward, pushing himself off the back wall and shuffling a bit forward. His eyes were wide and probing, mutedly eager. “Oh I see – yeah – I see it – you look just like him – but – pardon my interruption, son, but – why would you ever consider participating – here in my study – why I can’t dream of – I don’t think I could be responsible for -“

“Don’t,” Shiki shot back. He braced his back against the chair once more, letting the wave of dread pass. “Don’t… Don’t finish what you’re going to say.”

“The boy is right, Himura,” Matsuyama said, and he did not look at his colleague. “This is my interview. And you are only here to observe. You are out of line.”

“R-right,” Himura breathed, flushing red, yet still clearly riding out his confusion, his giddiness. He pulled a small kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the sweat along his receding hairline. “My apologies, M-Mr. Midoriya.”

“Just call me Shiki…”

“Yes, Shiki, we should get back on track,” Matsuyama proceeded. He picked his clipboard up once more and flipped another page. Shiki tried counting the number of sheets that wrapped spiral-like over top. More than he had realized – 10 or maybe 12 pages thick, at this point. Matsuyama’s pen tip tapped to paper once more. “I want to be clear: you are entitled to have your own reason for following through with this. But you may not hide it from me and expect to participate. I am the deciding factor here. Do not lie.”

With that, Shiki felt the last of the vigor in his spine drain away. He slumped forward some, and avoided eye contact with Matsuyama, and Himura, and his own reflection in the mirror which he resented so strongly at this very moment.

“So tell me, boy,” Matsuyama paused to pull in a rattling breath, “why do you want us to erase your quirk?”

“It’s complicated,” Shiki muttered.

“I’m quite good at complicated,” Matsuyama countered.

“It’s… My dad… You figured it out already, right? Izuku Midoriya… He’s the #1 Hero.” The words felt plastic, leaving Shiki’s throat. Artificial. Manufactured. A thing repeated en-masse by television hosts and podcasts and commercials and fan events and—

Shiki breathed.

“He wasn’t always. …Well, duh, I guess, of course… That sounds obvious to say but I mean it as – as in that – back when I was born, Dad was the #361 Hero. At least in the one ranking suite that stretched all the way to the top 500 heroes. Most ranking organizations only did top-250 at best. And the National Rankings only do top-75. He was a still a sidekick then. So was my mom. She didn’t even appear in the top 500. And I think being pregnant with me, and me being born, and taking care of me – I think that set her back even more.”

Shiki leaned forward, elbows set to the table, eyes boring deep into the scratched and stained wood. There were deeper gouges near the sharp corners of the arm restraints.

“When I was old enough to start remembering things is around when I got my quirk, because most of my oldest memories are of my mom playing gravity games with me in our apartment. She’d make my toys float and I’d make them float too and she’d bop them, like with her head, bop them all around and I thought that was the funniest thing. I used to think everyone could cancel gravity because that was so much of my world, just me and my mom.”

Ochaco Midoriya was just barely 23, and her hair had grown long enough to wear in a bun every day. Her off-the-shoulder white shirt spelled out URAVITY in bubble letters across the front. A short release. Only 100 shirts sold, half of them to friends and family. Her son Shiki lay on the carpet, small pudgy hands grabbing at fistfuls of air above him, reaching for her, his footy-jammied feet kicking. His fingers were ridged. He’d have her quirk someday. She pulled out the stuffed frog from behind her back (FROPPY logo emblazoned on the tummy) and papped it gently forward. Into the air. Where it hung and spun, lazily adrift. Shiki let out a shriek of joy. Ochaco smiled, and cupped Shiki’s hands in hers, and kissed them.

“My dad… um… he was out most of the day, almost the whole day, on weekdays at least, when I was young. And I was proud of him for that especially when I got old enough to understand what heroes and villains were because like, that was my dad, out there every single day putting in more effort than anyone else, you know? It never even seemed that weird, to like, that I didn’t have him around. I had Mom, and Dad was a hero.”

The little leaguers were all 5 or 6 years old, adorned in fluorescent pinnies and tiny little soccer cleats. They ran the way little kids run – with too much force in every stilted step, no grace, all fierce concentration, feet slamming heavy into grass and balled fists swinging. The ball came above their knees, and they kicked by running into it full-force.

Tatsuya bodied the ball into the opposing goal, and he was met with a chorus of applause from his mother and father on the sidelines. It was the first time Shikinori Midoriya noticed – Tatsuya had a dad. He looked, and saw so many dads. And it was strange. Weren’t they heroes? Weren’t they busy?

Ochaco stood alone. She waved a big wide sweeping wave when she noticed Shiki looking. She whistled for him. The ball knocked into Shiki. He forgot to wave back.

“I remember… Most of my memories of him, from when I was little, were on weekends. But not always, I mean not all weekends. He patrolled through weekends too. But if we got a weekend off, then we’d do some activity with him. Me, Mom, all of us together. It was my favorite. But weekdays, I never saw him. He left before I woke up and came home after I was in bed. I stayed up sometimes, in secret, to listen for him at the door. But a lot of nights I fell asleep first, or some nights he never even came home. I actually, I think I started to see him more on television, from news reporters, than I did in person…”

A head-to-toe child’s onesie which was a flannel plushy mock-up of Pro Hero Deku’s uniform. Shiki wore it, bunny ears and all, sitting in his mother’s lap in front of the television. Ochaco sat with her back against the couch, on the floor. The sun had set around them. The news had trickled on to its fourth recap of Deku’s apartment arson rescue.

~”A civilian recording that is SURE to capture a nation’s heart! As Pro Hero Deku emerges from the blazing building with three tenants, mother father and child, slung across his back – look – there! Oh what a winning smile that boy’s got, hasn’t he? Saving people with a smile! It makes me nostalgic for the age of All Might, to our viewers old enough to remember the Symbol of Peace before his retirement. Maybe Deku is someone who can spark that hope back into the new generation, what do you think, folks?”~

“15 more minutes, Shikinori, then it’s time for bed,” Ochaco told Shiki, bouncing him on her leg.

“But I wanna stay up for Dad! I wanna tell him we watched him on the news!” Shiki pointed a stubby finger to the freeze-frame of his father on the television, all tousled hair and sweat, bearing the weight of three others on his back, a veritable Atlas, smiling. Smiling smiling. Shiki gave the same smile as his dad, beaming at his mom.

“You’ll see him tomorrow; you can tell him then.”

The smile dropped from Shiki’s face. He looked forward to the television again. “I’m not gonna see him tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Tuesday and I don’t ever see Dad on Tuesday.”

~”I hear we’ve got an interview with a civilian who was on-site during the disaster. We’re cutting to him now!”~

“…30 more minutes, okay then, Honey?” Ochaco said. “We’ll wait up 30 more minutes for Dad.”

Shiki’s hand twitched. His eyes were locked on the shackles, and slowly, experimentally, he rested his wrists in the cuffs. Could the table hold him down with his quirk?

“And by the time I was 7, he broke into the top-100 heroes. Within another three years, he was top-50. Newspapers called it mind-blowing to see someone like that jump the ranks so quickly. He blew past Ground Zero and Ice Razer, who you know are like, #2 and #3 now. It was crazy. Like, he got way more attention for how quickly he was jumping than for his actual rank. The papers said he was working inhuman hours. That even heroes with time quirks and clone quirks couldn’t be as everywhere as he was… I have clippings saved. Or I did. I might have gotten rid of them when Mom and Dad divorced.”

Shiki clinked his wrists against the shackles, metal wrist watch ringing hollow against the cuffs.

“Which is, that was something I found out on my 10th birthday. They didn’t mean for me to know but I was staying up past my bed time to play the new Hero Smash game they got me – the one Dad was finally in -- and I heard them arguing just a bit too loud about something, and them arguing was kinda common at that point, so I paused the game to listen and… yeah… divorce… It was, you know, a pretty tame divorce, I think. Like, I can’t really complain about it, compared to some of the stuff other kids go through. Cuz Mom and Dad still acted friendly and tried to settle things on good terms but, you know, it showed. I’d go into Mom’s room and hold her, some nights, when I heard her crying. And she’d sob and say ‘I still love him’ and I never knew what to say back, but, I’m –that’s, anyway. Anyway.”

Ochaco Midoriya, 32 years old. She kept the last name. It would be easier, in terms of legal hassle, and it would be easier on her son, who she had full custody of.

Her empty bed had been the norm for years, now. Deku had gotten into the habit of working through the nights, stealing naps on his cot at the agency. But now it was the cold reminder, the knowledge, that he wasn’t ever coming back to this bed that stole Ochaco’s breath and made it short. Made her heart squeeze. Forced noises past her lips that she tried to keep in.

“Mom?” Shiki’s eyes, wide with concern, at the side of her bed. He held his hands together, ridged fingers, ridged palms, the little fingers she used to kiss.

He reached a hand out, and patted her shoulder, tip toes, leaning over the bed. He should be crying too.

Shiki pulled his hands back, rubbing at his wrists. His cheeks were flushed, embarrassment creeping through his system as his own words echoed back at him. Those things he’d rarely told anyone. “Am I… is this too much detail? I can dial it back. It’s just, um, I feel like the context is important for you to like… know why I’m—not write me off as—”

“This is fine, continue. If you say anything unnecessary, I can simply not write it down,” Matsuyama waved his free hand dismissively. The pen in his other hand danced, still, across the page.

Shiki cleared his throat. “Anyway, I lived with Mom after that. And when I was a little older she told me more about it and basically just. ‘He loves All Might more than he loves me,’ she said. Not the person, but the… idea. Like the concept of All Might. It’s who my Dad was so driven to be since the very beginning and… My mom couldn’t take being secondary anymore… And I realized then that, I was part of that too. I didn’t need saving, so I came second. My mom put her hero career on hold to raise me but he, um, he just couldn’t do that. Who he was as a person was so, unfixably tangled up in becoming that All Might in his mind that, he couldn’t sacrifice that. Not for me. Not for my mom.

“And when they finally divorced, and he moved out and into this just… terrible tiny unfurnished apartment, which I only saw twice – two years apart – and both times it looked the same. Nothing in there. Almost like no one was really living there. A futon and a closet and a rice cooker in the corner and boxes and All Might merch on the wall.”

Shiki was 11, sitting on a packed cardboard box against the red-brick wall of his dad’s apartment. Still-packed boxes lined most of the walls, like a misshapen and dull lego construction. Red brick, brown cardboard, All Might smiling from every wall. It was an apartment unlived-in, and that aspect was nearly unfathomable to Shiki. His dad had been moved out for over four months.

“Pretty great, huh?” Deku said, gloved finger pointing to the wall of All Mights. Deku’s smile was bright, his excitement genuine. “The one on the far left was a limited release from 50 years ago. One of my super-fans tracked it down for me and mailed it. Can you believe it?”

Shiki nodded. All the posters looked the same to him.

“But um, after the divorce is when he really skyrocketed. Everything before was child’s play. I was… dizzy. I was 11, and starting middle school, and had just lost my dad only to have him be everywhere but… not my dad. Not there for me. But everywhere, on billboards, in newspapers, on television. Kids at school would hear my last name and they’d ask ‘Midoriya – Like Izuku Midoriya? Like Deku?!’ and I’d have to just say yeah while they applauded or like, even smacked me on the back sometimes like I had any choice in that, and would ask questions about him that, I couldn’t answer, cuz he wasn’t my dad anymore. His fans in my class knew things about him that I didn’t. Sometimes little things like favorite color but sometimes big things, whole things from his childhood that I never heard about. They’d ask me things about him and that’s when I realized I didn’t know my dad at all.”

Shiki glanced up, and saw Himura look away in embarrassment.

“He’d been kidnapped, as a kid, had saved Ground Zero twice, took down a murderer with Ice Razer and Ingenium, had his mentor die during a rescue mission. I had to hear these things from people I didn’t know. And I felt just, selfish, every time I learned something new. Especially the things that happened after I was born. Because how do you sit and hear someone tell you a story about the time your dad saved their grandma from a collapsed bridge and just… how can you justify feeling resentful about that? How selfish do you have to be to think, ‘he should have been spending that night at home with me and my mom, and not saving your grandma.’ I hated it. I started to hate hearing about him.”

His hands were shaking now, slightly, Shiki realized. His breathing too came in too fast and too raspy. He set his wrists back in the open restraints, and breathed out.

“And just… by the time I was 12, Dad made Top 20. And then when I was 13, he was Top 10. …And I think at that point he really, truly didn’t feel like my dad anymore. Because he was just, some God to the world. Someone people fawned over by the millions and, just, that was better, actually. Because I could really just act like he wasn’t my dad, had nothing to do with me. Maybe I was at peace with that. I could do the 20-minute phone calls once a week and be courteous with him and answer questions about school and just, move on…”

Shiki walked the same street every day to school, the same route with the same turns, the same backpack slung over one shoulder. But the scenery changed. New advertisements. New billboards. New screens projecting, dancing, twirling, screening, screaming. Deku brand hand cream. Deku brand baby clothes. Deku brand clutch purses. Headlines with stills of Pro Hero Deku printed on the front page. Upcoming: interview with Pro Hero Deku! Everywhere. Growing like mushrooms. The likeness almost like the one in Shiki’s mirror every morning. The likeness of a man quickly fading from memory, quickly replaced by advertisements and stills over flesh and blood. Shiki felt eyes on him, every day, from people who saw the resemblance. Or maybe not. Maybe he imagined it. Maybe no one was looking at him at all.

The wrist restraints were cold.

“And I started to see Mom less and less, around that time. I was old enough to take care of myself mostly so she, she took up patrolling again. Started rising the ranks quickly too… Mostly because the tabloids loved her, and circulated her name as much as they could, as the ex-wife of Deku… They said horrible things that I—still I—even thinking about them just. Vile horrible things about her and Dad, and why Dad left her, and why she left Dad, and ‘Deku fans’ piling on her calling her trash and filth and whore and, insulted her for keeping his last name until, eventually, she did change it back and… I stopped reading those but… that’s how hero work works. Whatever gets your name out there, and gets you recognized, so that your rescues get camera time and screen time and … She at least got to make her own name, once she got recognized. Her own rescue efforts spoke for themselves. Saved over 75 people from the rubble of a collapsed building and, s-she broke top-100 that same year. I wanted to be happy for her. I wanted to… but the house was so empty.”

13 year old Shiki unlocked the front door. He flicked the lights, and they blazed through the pitch blackness beyond the foyer. There was a sterile cleanliness inside, the subtle sting of lemon in the back of his throat. Between his mom’s new notoriety and his dad’s hefty child support, they could afford a personal cleaner now. Twice a week. She must have come. The apartment was spotless.

Shiki turned on the television and rooted through the cabinet and emerged with a box of cereal. He didn’t bother with a bowl. He sat on the couch instead, scrolling his phone with one hand, grabbing fistfuls of cereal with the other. The news mentioned ‘Uravity’ and Shiki turned it up. He listened to the reporters until they spiraled into her failed marriage with Pro Hero Deku, and Shiki listened no further.

He focused on his phone instead, cereal crunching. Most of the forums he followed were Uravity forums. He paused on a particular cross-posting, shared by someone irate over the click-bait bottom-feeding publications that drew readership with manufactured drama. Shiki read the headline. ~”‘She took our son!’ Pro Hero Deku sobs in a raw tell-all about the woman who broke his heart and tore apart his family to launch her own career.”~

There was a boy pictured in the article. The boy wasn’t even Shiki.

“I was 13 still, and we were moving from the apartment into a nice house, because Mom’s salary and Dad’s child support were now more than enough for a proper place. A nice place. And I did most of the house cleaning and packing myself since Mom was now so so busy… And I found, in the attic, my old box of toys, the gravity ball toys the—the ones where—me and Mom used to bop them back and forth and I… think I just… I threw them away. And the old newspaper clippings I kept about Dad. Threw them all away. Never made it to the new house. I hated them. I hated them.”

Shiki pressed his back against the attic wall, suddenly short of breath, static suddenly in his legs and rippling down his spine. He slid down, slowly, streaking the layer of dust along the wall, just like his hands had streaked away the dust on the boxes, gray lint filling the ridges on his finger tips. He stared at the layer of yellowed newsprint, the top article boasting ~”No Longer Just A Side-Kick? ‘Deku’ Makes His Agency Debut!”~

It filled him with revulsion, with a choking hurt in the ways that modern news headlines didn’t. He had forgotten the feeling associated with these old headlines. That old forgotten excitement of knowing that news outlets had come to acknowledge his dad’s existence.

Not his dad anymore. Not his. Izuku Midoriya lived in newsprint now. The media owned him, had stolen him slowly. A superhuman. A god. Not a husband. Not a father. Not Shiki’s.

“He called on the phone once a week. Just once a week, to talk about nothing. Until I was 14, that is. Once I turned 14, suddenly Dad was eager to be on the phone with me. And he’d act like he was interested in talking to me about normal stuff, but it always came back to U.A. Always U.A. Asking if I wanted to. Asking if I’d thought about it. Asking if I had any questions that he or Mom could answer about the school.”

Shiki’s voice caught.

“…Still… still makes me angry. And he just didn’t realize. I realized he had no idea. At all. Whatsoever. That what he’d done was… might have been wrong. I realized and it blew my mind. That nothing he did was ever, ever malicious. He was, is, thought he was a good person. Working so hard to save everyone. Absolute strangers. As many, as much, as endlessly eternally as he could. And he… thought I idolized that. That I looked at him and Mom and wanted to… do them proud and follow in their footsteps. And I saw him through… his own eyes I guess… and he was the world’s hero and the next All Might and the rising Symbol of Peace and he didn’t think he’d abandoned me, or Mom, he thought he’d just left us to catch up… I think he talked my mom back into heroing. Because they stayed friends, or ‘friends’, whatever you call two people who get along great so long as they ignore all the hurt between them. And… he… wanted me to enroll in U.A… THAT… was when I finally snapped at him, and we got family counseling.”

Silently, Matsuyama set his pen down, and he slid across the table a box of tissues Shiki had not noticed him take out. And Shiki took one, shocked to pad it against the stream of tears he hadn’t noticed rolling down his cheek. He stole one more glance into the mirror, ashamed of the puffy-eyed and blotchy-cheeked reflection. His dad’s freckles. His mom’s chestnut hair. He was designed piece-meal from them. No part his own. No part himself. The buzzing, overhead. Fly in the jar. Uncaring of gravity. Eternally confined to the jar’s unseeable walls.

“I saw Dad in person, for the first time in 2 years, when we went to that counselor.” Shiki let out a strained laugh. “I had literally… misremembered things about him. I had remembered him being taller but, the media just loved to prop him up at certain angles that made him taller. In street clothes, in person, he almost didn’t look like Pro Hero Deku. …And even smaller, when he cried. Because he did cry, during counseling, like honestly cried. And he apologized. I’d never – I didn’t think I would ever get an apology from him. Or like I couldn’t ask for one, didn’t deserve one, because that would be selfish. But he owned up to it… Dad cared. Dad was sorry. Dad had no idea I was this hurt. Dad thought I idolized heroes too and that he was making me proud. And I thought it would work. I thought we would finally fix this all.”

The counselor asks. The raw hurt of the session starts anew.

“I was finally able to tell him just, how invisible I felt to him. How selfish it made me feel. He listened. He cared. He stopped shilling for U.A. I went into a normal high school, one without a hero track. And the first weekend of the school year, Mom, me, and him went to an aquarium, and dinner at a fancy restaurant, and a play in the evening. I don’t like plays but, I liked that play. A lot.”

Shiki crumpled the used tissue in his hand, and then hid it beneath the table. It was wet and tainted and felt unclean in his hand, but there was no garbage can in sight, and he had nothing else he could do with it.

“And that was when Dad slipped a rank, that next month. From #7 to #8. It shouldn’t have mattered so much but, it did. He’d never fallen rank before… No actually, even worse, he’d never even stayed the same rank from one ranking release to the next. He was always climbing. For almost 20 straight years, always climbing, and this was the first time, the very first time he… Dad didn’t mention it. I didn’t mention it. But in my mind I’ve always blamed this as the like, as the turning point, toward turning back down. In reality I don’t know that for sure. Maybe our whole family was just, always destined to slip back on old habits, right from the start. It’s not like he or Mom ever went back on any promises or anything. But more like… Dad slowly stopped proposing weekend activities, and so did Mom. Until it was just me putting in that effort, and I couldn’t be the cause of him falling rank anymore. I couldn’t be the bad guy.”

Shikinori Midoriya’s blood ran cold. Red. The name, the arrow, downward-pointing, -1. Red. Red where there had only ever been green. “#8” in red, which bore no value and no merit beyond the unsightly embarrassment of being below #7.

There were sharks in the water.

Shiki knew it would be only hours until the most predatory, the most inflammatory think-piece writers pounced. Until hero forums buckled under every single anonymous layperson’s expert opinion on where, and how, and why Deku had stumbled. Was his rescue count down? Was his collateral coefficient up? Were merch sales dropping? Had his new figurine bombed? Had a hostage died? Had he yelled at a reporter? Was it the joint rescue with his money-grubbing ex-wife? His incident resolution was abnormally low two Saturdays back. Why? Where had he been? What was he thinking?

Shiki read the theories. He told himself to stop, but the scroll loaded endlessly. Some fans honed in on that weekend – the aquarium trip – fascinated by the dip in resolved incidents, circling like vultures, pecking, tearing, probing. They found an Instagram post from a fan spotting Deku in the crowd of the hammerhead exhibit, and the link got passed around like an electric current.

Had this happened a month ago, a year ago, Shiki might have just watched it unfold disaffected. Shiki’s chest ached now. He hurt for the man his mind had reconciled as his father, for the man who mimicked the guppies and pressed against the glass in the aquatic tunnel, cheeks puffed and scarred hands flapping by his ears. Shiki ached for the genuine laughter from his mother, who still loved this man and his guppy imitation. He ached for the reminder of what his family was, and what it wasn’t, and what it was punished for even trying to be.

“His agency and Mom’s started collaborating a lot. They were good together. Like really good. The two of them together, I saw a new story almost every week. Maybe I was even a little jealous but… it wasn’t something I wanted to be a part of, anyway. So I was fine with that. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t – and don’t – want to be a hero.

“I just kind of… tried to figure myself out as a person, by myself, during high school. I kept a low profile. Joined a math club. Only really talked to a few people most days. Had like, two people I sort of saw as friends. I started going by my mom’s name, Uraraka. Never told people who my parents were. And I think that was for the best, because I was still in school – I was 17 – when Dad claimed the #1 spot. …and I swear I would have had to transfer schools if my classmates knew I was Deku’s kid.”

“Front Page” did not begin to describe the explosion, the eruption, the maelstrom of obsession that gripped an entire nation’s heart and soul when Pro Hero Deku unseated the previous #1. The new report came just days after Deku performed his 10,000th recorded civilian rescue. In honor, dedicated fans had gone and compiled every drop of video coverage that ever graced Deku’s career. It was chronological, starting with grainy film 20 years’ outdated of a still-scrawny U.A. sidekick pulling a man out of rubble, and progressed like a time-lapse from there. A rescue counter sat super-imposed on the bottom-right, documenting the rescues as Deku grew taller, broader, more confident, more practiced, faster and stronger and beaming – always beaming – with a smile to instill hope in an entire nation. The whole montage was two hours in length, and it skyrocketed to the #1 trending.

A half-dozen other videos followed in its wake: a clip of Deku shaking hands with the President who pinned a simple, proper, dignified medal to the front of his costume. A shaking, trembling, sobbing hug with the skeletal and spindly public figure of Toshinori Yagi – previously known as All Might – who teared up along with Deku on stage. Chants of “Symbol”. Chants of “Peace”. Chants, louder than all others, of “Deku”.

Everywhere. Everywhere. Replaying. Tagged. Suggested. Trending. Featured. A kiss with Uravity, tender and subtle and full of passion. A handshake with Shota Aizawa, his first teacher, his long-time peer. Endless interviews with rescued victims. Tear-jerkers. A man named Kota recalling how Deku, at 15, saved him from a certain violent death. A woman named Eri detailing how Deku had taken her in his arms and rescued her from the depths of Hell.

Thousands others followed. Spine-tingling recounts from voices, with breath and warmth and life, who wouldn’t be alive without Deku. They heaped their praises on a man so endlessly driven, forward forward forward, that he could save 10,000 people, and 10,000 more, and everyone, and everything he could touch.

Shiki skipped school the whole next week. Hardly anyone noticed.

“So I got away. Far away. I figured out college all by myself, and got accepted to my top choice 1,000 kilometers away from Tokyo, and it was perfect for me, because maybe then I could figure myself out for a bit, away from everything. Mom asked me to reconsider when I finally saw her in person four days after I’d accepted. She’d been on a sting mission for two straight weeks. They saved fifty people. It earned her her spot as the #15 Hero. My dad had saved twice as many people in that time. Not that I heard it from him. I heard it on the news. I didn’t speak to him again until after I graduated.”

Shiki breathed. “College… was good. It was far away enough that I stopped being afraid of people recognizing me at a glance. I made real friends. I had real relationships. Got to know my professors. Took up tutoring and loved it. I… did things on the weekends, like with friends, went places, saw things, I was happy. Genuinely happy. All these things I never realized I was missing as a kid because I never realized I could have an identity outside of being just… Deku’s reject son. I stopped fearing that and started to be me. I traveled during school breaks. Took some pottery classes. Just… breathed.” Shiki’s hands fidgeted. “At least… until I graduated. And I realized there was a whole cliff I was standing over that I was just avoiding. I didn’t have a job lined up. I tried. For absolute certain. I lost count around the 75 application mark. Nothing. My college friends moved away. My funds were drying up. …I moved back home.”

One duffle bag, slung across his right shoulder, was all Shikinori Midoriya brought home with him. This big house from his teenage years was empty. Endless untouched rooms. Pristine duvets across the beds in all 5 bedrooms, including master. Empty dressers. Empty drawers. Not so much as fingerprints on the front doorknob. Only his mom lived here now, and Shiki fought with the blooming certainty he felt in his gut that she spent almost no time here at all.

Uravity was now the #7 hero. Her merch sales were particularly popular with girls ages 5-12. The money she raked it was enough to put her parents up permanently in a beach house in Hawaii. Money would likely never be a worry for her for as long as she lived. She likely never sold this home because it simply wasn’t worth the hassle.

Shiki set his bag down in his old room, bigger and cleaner and newer and nicer than his college apartment, and so much more a cage than it had ever been before.

Fly in a jar.

“Moving home was… a rough choice. I thought a lot, before that, about just asking Mom and Dad for money. They could definitely afford it. But I couldn’t… be that again, the reject son, some unwanted parasite, pilfering money. I just needed enough stability to get back into the job hunt and get back on my feet. I told Mom that much. I didn’t tell Dad. Didn’t even tell him I’d moved back home but, he found out from Mom. He wanted to see me. Wanted to talk to me. I’d ignored all his calls in college… I decided to bite the bullet and just, go into his office and see him. Let him lay eyes on his failure son. Get it over with. I told him about college, and about my job hunt, and just needing enough time to get back on my feet. And you know what he said?”

Matsuyama glanced up. His pen still trailed. “What did he say?”

“’I could use another accountant at the agency, even a receptionist, if you don’t want to deal with crunching numbers. Given some time and training… I could even use another side kick.’” Shiki looked up, locking eyes with Matsuyama, and blinked away the tears blurring his vision. “Math… was my best subject in school. I want… to be a math teacher. I’ve been sending out a hundred applications for teaching positions. Dad doesn’t know that. Dad… is still living in this world where everything is heroes. And of course he is! He’s lived there his whole life! He never left it! And he’s still waiting for me to join. Waiting for me to change my mind. Like time is the only factor. That world stole my parents and he… and he still thinks that, things can be fine, he can get his way. He thinks, I’ll do what my mom did, and play catch up to him. That I’ll come into my own. That I’ll join him in his hero world. Him and Mom both. That I would want anything to do with heroes. He won’t believe otherwise.”

Shiki struck an open palm against his chest. “Well he’s not getting that. He’s NOT getting this quirk! Not now! Not ever! I’m GETTING RID OF IT. I want to be part of Dr. Himura’s Quirk-Erasure study because, until I’m fully stripped of my Quirk, my Dad and my Mom won’t get it. I know – all those guys out in the waiting room? I know they’re all villains. Probably this whole study is villains, yeah?! They’re all people who’ve been offered reduced sentences if they willingly give up their quirk in this study. Maybe you have a few normal people with dangerous quirks who want to be rid of it but me. My quirk. I stand out, I know, I get it. Because gravity control is cool. And it’s harmless. So why would I want to get rid of it, permanently? This is why. Because everything I’ve spouted off, it, all that probably sounds like some villain-origin-story, yeah?? ‘My hero father never loved me so now he will pay.’ No. No heroes and no villains I’m sick of all of them. This ends here. This ends with me! No more heroes, no more villains. No more POWERS in the Midoriya blood line! This is a non-origin story. This is the origin of me! This is the start of me taking back what heroes took from me!”

Shiki’s breath caught in his throat. He felt the tears wetting his cheeks and knew he had no power to stop them this time, not with the mangled tightness in his chest, not with the hurt bubbling long-repressed to the surface. So he wiped hastily at his eyes, and he stared down at the desk below him.

“I’ve thought this through. I know what I want. I’m not being coerced. I’m of a sound mind and body. I just… want a normal, happy, powerless life. I want to be normal. And I need this final leap, to prove to my family once and for all they can’t have me. I need this control. I need this trump card. I need this final, unchangeable, irreversible option to make them get it. That they can accept me quirkless… or they can not accept me at all.” Shiki lowered himself, and set his eyes to his lap. “Please… Please, I’m begging you.”

Matsuyama let the pen clink to the table. Shiki could not get an accurate count, but at least 40 pages had been flipped over the clipboard’s spiraled top. Matsuyama unfurled these pages, and steadied their alignment, and tucked the board beneath his arm. His chair scraped back with an unholy shriek, and he stood.

“Thank you. We will let you know in due time about your candidacy in the study.”

Matsuyama motioned for the door.

“Wait…” Shiki swallowed. His mouth had gone dry. His ears were ringing slightly. “Can’t you tell me now?”

“The decisions have not been made. How can I tell you now?”

“What about just me then? Y-yes or no?”

“You will be informed in due time.”

“When? How soon?”

Matsuyama motioned again.

“Yes or no? Please. Can you let me be part of this or not?”

“The next patient is coming in, Shiki. See yourself out.”

…

Inko Midoriya’s apartment was small, and it was stayed, and it was comfortable. Her son had offered her time and time again to move her into a nicer place, but she always declined. This apartment was where she’d raised her family. These walls had memories. This was her home.

It felt almost like a memory, just now. Out of the corner of Inko’s eye, seeing the young man with curly hair and green eyes seated at her kitchen table was achingly familiar, the ghost of family dinners with her son.

10 minutes had passed since Inko pulled the rack of cookies from the oven, a warm miasma of buttery sweetness, and laid them out to cool. She grabbed one now, quick touches, experimentally, until the heat didn’t quite burn her fingers, and placed it on a plate. She did the same with a second cookie, and carried them like a server to the table where she took the seat opposite Shiki. He watched her, and accepted the cookie with a quiet ‘thank you’, and merely stared at it. He let the warmth wash across his face.

“I’m happy to have you back around Tokyo, you know,” Inko said quietly. She looked down at her own cookie, smiling slightly, and picked it up. “Happy to have someone to bake for.”

“I’m happy to see you too, Grandma. It’s been a while.” Shiki bit into his cookie. It was warm, and soft, and achingly comforting. Shiki wasn’t used to the taste of homecooked anything. It squeezed something in his ribcage, made him hurt in a gentle way. “It’s delicious,” he whispered, and raised the heel of his palm to wipe the wetness there.

“You can… you know you can stay with me, Shiki. I’d be happy. I want you to. I know it’s not as big a place as Ochaco’s home, but, Izuku’s old room is still here. There’s still… You could still…”

Shiki shook his head. “If I stay with you, it’ll be so much harder to leave. I’m still job hunting. No guarantees I’ll end up anywhere near here.”

The silence spread between them. The warmth of Shiki’s cookie wafted away, sapping off, like steam curling from a lake.

“…You don’t want to end up living around here, do you, Shiki?”

“Not if I can help it,” Shiki answered.

Inko turned in her chair, and motioned her hand toward the rest of the cookies cooling on the rack. Quirk activated, she pulled them each closer, and let them each fall onto the empty plate that sat between her and Shiki. Still gooey, they seemed to melt into each other, taking form of those beneath them. Inko nudged the plate closer to Shiki, encouraging him to take another.

He did. He bit the cookie. Warm.

“…I’m sorry, Shiki, about the study. I know you had your heart set on it.”

Shiki shrugged. “Matsuyama said there weren’t enough slots. He said he needed to prioritize better candidates. People who would really benefit from losing their quirk.”

Silence, again.

“It wouldn’t have changed things, you know. If it makes you feel any better, Shiki. You having a quirk was never the problem."

Shiki paused mid-bite. The lump in his throat made it too hard to swallow.

“How do you deal with it, Grandma? You’ve been dealing with it so much longer, right? Because I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”

Inko gave him a small smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes. “You’re right, but… I don’t think I have a good answer for you, Shiki. It’s lonely here. I miss him. I’m afraid for him. But maybe I’m just, maybe I’ve just gotten used to it. It’s been like this ever since he enrolled in U.A. Since he was little. It was what made him happy. I’m his mother, and I’m supposed to set aside my own feelings for my child.” Inko nudged the cookies toward Shiki again. “But you, that burden should never have been on you. Especially not as a child. I’m sorry, Shiki, I’m so sorry.”

“So he’s… always been like this, is what you’re saying, yeah? It wasn’t—it’s not just me he doesn’t want—”

“No. Not you. Definitely not you, Shiki,” Inko insisted. “It’s who he is. Who he’s always been. …Who he’ll always be, I think. Even when he was 3 or 4 years old, so small he fit in my lap… He’s… so incredibly kind, and so incredibly driven, and it’s a combination that breaks a mother’s heart. Because it meant he was always sacrificing himself for others in danger. Doing what All Might would do. But All Might doesn’t have a family; he doesn’t have children. I wonder, sometimes, who All Might left behind, to become who he was. If that’s who we are.”

Shiki put his cookie down. His hands curled in, and he looked at them, ridged fingertips, ridged palms, obligated to use them heroically or not at all. Marks he never asked for.

“But why did he have to be All Might? Why him? Why us? Ice Razer and Creati have a daughter. They dote on her. They love her so much it’s embarrassing. I’ve met her, once, at a reunion thing that Mom and Dad had. And I was angry at her. How much she smiled. How you can just see how proud Ice Razer is, in his eyes, every time he looks at her. Ice Razer was on track to be the #1 hero, ahead of Dad, and he’s said publicly that he no longer cares about his ranking if it means being there for his family, because his dad never was. Dad didn’t… Dad never… He was putting in 120 hour weeks, at the time Ice Razer’s daughter was born, when I was sitting home waiting up for him, because old news headlines estimated that All Might put in 119 hour weeks in his prime, and Dad had to be that. Ice Razer visits his mother! When was the last time Dad came to see you, Grandma?”

Inko Midoriya responded with only a sad smile. “It’s been a while.”

“Ground Zero and Red Riot. Their adopted son, I’ve met him too. You wouldn’t think Ground Zero of all people would be any kind of good father but… he is… apparently… And that’s… fuck, you know what? That’s all I want to be. A good dad. That’s all! I want to teach math, and I want to fall in love with a girl, and marry her, and I want to be there. Just be there. For my kid. I want to spend every weekend with my family. I want to be around for every dinner. I want to help with homework. And I want no one – no villains and no heroes – to ever know my name. Is that too much, Grandma? Is it selfish of me to want that… and to want Mom and Dad to still love me too?”

Shiki’s voice cracked. He hadn’t meant for it to. He hadn’t meant for his composure to slip, or for those final words to come out. He hadn’t meant to open up that hollow ache in his chest, where that fear sat deep and rotten.

His next words were wet. “Is it too selfish of me to just want them to be proud of me?”

“Oh, oh Shiki…” Inko shoved her chair back. Hands extended, she rounded the table, and she wrapped her arms around Shiki. Kind hands, kind like Shiki was not used to. His vision blurred, and he pulled a hand up to wrap around Inko’s arm, and he leaned into her.

“I told him, Grandma…” he muttered, voice still wet. “…I told Dad that I got accepted to Matsuyama’s study. I told him I already went through with it.”

“What?”

Shiki shook his head. “I know it was wrong. I just… I hoped. I don’t know. I just wanted him, maybe, for once… I don’t know…”

“What did he say?”

Shiki shrugged, his movement muted under Inko’s hug. “I don’t know. I hung up. I just hung up.”

…

The beach air was cold, and it was briny. Wind curled off the lapping waves, spritzing All Might’s face with a spray of ocean water that was not wholly unpleasant. It reminded him of a time long-since passed.

The sound of footsteps met his ears. He did not turn, not immediately. All Might breathed in the ocean air a little longer.

“How… how have you been?” The voice – the man beside him – asked.

“Oh, you know. Same old same old. I’ve got this pesky ache in my knee that’s catching up to me. Recovery Girl recommends I start doing some swimming exercises. I’ve been considering it. It might suit these old bones.”

“Oh! I know a few gyms nearby with pool facilities. I-I can get you into them, you know, for free. I’m sure I could—”

All Might held a hand up. “What, do you think I don’t still have connections of my own, Young Midoriya?”

“S-sorry.”

All Might turned properly now, catching sight of Izuku Midoriya, a man so accomplished in the public eye looking familiarly helpless at his side. This beach held memories. Izuku was hardly recognizable from the first day All Might had brought him here for training, and in other ways, he looked exactly the same.

“You called me here to talk about Shikinori, right?” All Might continued. He stared back out at the sea, dark and getting darker. The sun has set 10 minutes prior. “You said he lost his quirk.”

Izuku remained quiet.

“He… had it taken away. He chose to do it, he said.”

“Why?”

Again, silence settled between them. All Might looked back, scanning Izuku’s face, taking in a look mangled with confusion and concern, unsettled and helpless. Not the beaming face on television. Not the endless smile to instill fear in the hearts of villains.

“…I think it was because of me,” Izuku finally answered.

Waves, lapping to shore. All Might found himself watching them again. “A quirkless life is not so bad. These past 30 years have been peaceful for me.”

Static settled in the air around them. Rolling ocean. Gentle wind.

All Might let out a small sigh. “What advice are you looking for, from me, Young Midoriya?”

“I… need to know if this is okay with you. If my plan is okay with you,” Izuku answered.

“As your concerned mentor, I’ve found I don’t like most of your plans,” All Might answered. “What is your plan?”

“Shikinori lost his quirk because of me… I wasn’t there for him. I wasn’t… I wasn’t a good father to him, I think. I was waiting for him to come to me but. I messed up. I need to go to him now. I can think of only one way I have to make it up to him.” Izuku looked up. Conflict pulled at his pained expression, and his fist curled. “Maybe, if I give him One for All, I can fix this.”

Another spritz of ocean spray hit the shore. All Might could feel the salt crystalizing on his face.

“I was right. I don’t like your plan.” All Might turned, and took a step toward Izuku, and laid a hand on his shoulder. “No. That’s my answer. No, I do not approve.”

Izuku seemed to buckle, just a little. He curled one hand in and rested it on All Might’s, still on his shoulder. The shadows of nightfall hid his eyes, but not his mouth, pained and strained at the corners. “Then what can I do to fix this?”

“Why do you think that giving Shikinori One for All would fix this in the first place? Do you really believe that his quirk is the root of the problem? Do you?”

Izuku’s hand trailed down. He shook his head, slowly. The words that came out were pained. “Ochaco and I… are back together again. We’re making this work. We’re… we’re putting the pieces of our family back together. We just need Shikinori. I just want him back with us…”

“…I told you this 20 years ago, Young Midoriya, and I’ll tell you it again. And it will hurt worse now to hear it, because you didn’t follow my advice the first time--”

“I thought I could do both.”

“—You cannot be the Symbol of Peace and have a family. There aren’t enough hours in a lifetime. …I left people behind—”

“I know.”

“—people I cared about. People who cared about me. I hurt them, and I knew I hurt them—”

“I know.”

“And that was my choice. I made that decision. Because protecting the peace of the whole world… that was more important to me than the people I hurt. I carry the burden of that decision every day. …I told you, 20 years ago, that you had to make that decision too.”

“I know, I just thought maybe, with both Ochaco and me—”

“And you did. You did make that decision. You’re the Symbol of Peace, and I’m proud of you for that, …and you’ll have to carry that same burden, too, of that decision you made.”

Izuku’s hand was curled around All Might’s sleeve now. He was smaller now than the man who first arrived at the beach, and so, so much smaller than the Symbol of Peace lauded in headlines across the nation. His shoulders trembled. Tears dripped down the curvature of his nose, lost to the briny sand below.

All Might continued. “This is one piece of advice I can give you… Stop saddling Shiki with that same burden… Don’t give him that weight to bear. Don’t trap him in the world of heroes. Let him go.”

Izuku pulled in a shuddering breath, and he steadied his shoulders.

“…I failed him, didn’t I, All Might…?”

Another lap of waves at the shore, forging eternally onward. There was an ache in All Might’s knees, a rattle to his old bones, a pain that never ceased throbbing in his side. He wondered how long ago it had been, exactly, since he first made this decision himself. How many pulls of the tide since he last saw his mother. How many moons since the earth had reclaimed her. How many breaths of wind had passed since the very last time she thought of him.

He wondered, not for the first time, if it had been selfish of him to trade her, and everyone else away for the protection of all the people he’d never known or loved.

All Might reached down, and he pulled Izuku into a hug. Come daylight, Izuku would have to smile again, on every television and every billboard and every broadcast and every rescue. For now, All Might figured, it was fine to let him cry.

“…Yes. I’m sorry. I’m to blame for this too. I pulled you down this path. But… yes. You failed him.”

All Might ran a hand over Izuku’s hair as his cries grew louder. All Might wondered if Izuku had ever held Shiki like this. He wouldn’t know. All Might wasn’t a father. All Might had no son. Whether that was selfish or selfless, he still did not know.

The wind picked up to a howl, and it swept into shore, and it drowned Izuku’s cries beneath it.

By tomorrow, Izuku would be smiling on the news.

By tomorrow, Shiki would be on a train to an interview far north in Akita.

By tomorrow, Inko would be alone again.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #mha #bnha fanfiction #long post #so ive been writing this fic since OCTOBER #its transcended all emotional relation to me and now simply IS #(i remember years ago the Read More function broke on mobile and i hope thats NOT the case now)#if so: my sincere apologies

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untaemedqueen · 4 years

Text

The Second

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Request: Hi there!So I'm making a request which involves domestic kook!Like koo and the reader are becoming parents for the second time however they're both scared because their first child was a preemie!I want the scenario to be fluff and angsty both like can you please add a scene where the two of them argue..? It could be when the reader tells koo about her pregnancy and he's taken aback because he's scared for our safety.So it's the first time he yells and the moment reader starts crying he regrets it

Warnings: Angsty and Fluffy

“Jeon Jisung!" Jeongguk yells as his son climbs on top of a chair in the practice room as the guys grab water as they take a break. Jisung turns around to hos daddy with a big smile making Jeongguk sigh shakily before smiling.

"You're going to hurt yourself, big boy!" Jeongguk says wiping his forehead with a towel before scooping his 2 year old son up into his arms.

"Daddy." Jisung whines clutching onto Jeongguk's neck making his heart melt. He didn't know how special fatherhood would be and how difficult, besides. Jisung was a surprise to Jeongguk and his wife Y/N but he was a welcome surprise even though the pregnancy wasn't without it's hardships.

"Can you believe that our Kook is a dad already? Before all of us?" Taehyung asks as he rubs his wife’s pregnant belly. Jeongguk smiles over at them before feeling a bit of jealousy burn at the back of his mind. He wishes your pregnancy was that easy, that you didn't have so many sleepless nights of crying and pain before having to give birth to Jisung early. Too early, Jisung was born at just 5 months in the womb, weighing just three pounds. Jeongguk looks away from Taehyung before petting the top of his sons head as Jisung wriggles to get comfy.

"Are you tired?" Jeongguk asks quietly angling his head to try and see his son's face. Jisung nods before letting out a loud whine.

"Okay, okay." Jeongguk says as Hoseok and Yoongi look up from the floor with a smile as Jisung clutches on to his dad.

"Are we done for the day? I should probably take Jisung home for bedtime. It's already 9 o'clock." Namjoon looks over at Sejin before nodding.

"Sure, Jisung needs his sleep to get big and strong." Jeongguk smiles before kissing his son's temple.

"Let's go see mommy." Jisung squeals happily before writhing around wanting to get down. Jeongguk puts him down before putting his hands on his sides as Jisung runs over to every member and hugging them. Jeongguk gathers his stuff along with Jisung's little school bag and his small Gucci sweater Taehyung bought him for his second birthday. Jisung begins to run to the door before Jeongguk whistles loudly.

"Yah. Jeon Jisung. Get over here and put your sweater on!" He chides his son, Jisung turns around slowly before pouting and shuffling his tiny feet over to his father.

"You don't want to get sick, do you baby?" Jeongguk asks crouching down with a groan. Jisung shakes his head making Jeongguk wrinkle his nose.

"See you tomorrow!" Jeongguk says with a wave as his son takes off running out the practice door making Jeongguk chuckle.

"Bye hyungs!" He yells before chasing his son.

Jeongguk enters the house with a sleeping Jisung in his arms. The house was quiet apart from you in the bathroom freaking out as you hold the fourth pregnancy test of today in your hands. You were pregnant and you knew Jeongguk would NOT be happy. After your pregnancy with Jisung, Jeongguk had decided that one child was enough. He almost lost both of you during your first pregnancy and he would not let that happen again. He felt blessed that you were safe and sound and so was his son. So as you hear the door of the large apartment slam your legs begin to quiver in nervousness.

Of course, it was difficult for you in your pregnancy but just knowing that Jisung would be safe made you calmer. Even if you didn't make it, you loved Jisung so much that if he was alive and well you would be fine with dying. You shove the fourth stick into the garbage before covering it with toilet paper. You hear Jeongguk's feet pad past your bedroom door as you sneak out of the bathroom and lay down in the bed. Your heart thumping loudly as adrenaline fills your veins. You wanted to cry and at the same time you wanted to laugh. You both were so careful during sex, how could this possibly happen? Now, birth control was not 100% effective but only in movies or books that you've read has it ever failed. You've never known it to fail any person you know, well, now besides you. You bite your nails as you throw the covers over yourself. Jeongguk closes Jisung's tiger striped decorated door quietly before walking over to your bedroom. He peaks in before giving you a large smile.

"My baby." He whispers happily, his voice velvet and cream as he walks towards the bed with his bunny-like smile. You give him a small smile making Jeongguk stop short. He tilts his head before sucking air in through his teeth.

"Did you have a bad day, babe?" He asks with a pout before stripping off his t-shirt and black tight sweats. You shake your head and he frowns deeply.

"Y/N." Jeongguk says cautiously before you fake a smile.

"I'm okay! Just tired! I cleaned the whole house today!" Jeongguk looks around before smirking.

"You are surely the best wife anyone could ever have." He jumps on the bed before hooking his hand under your hip and pulling you to him. You don't know how far along you are or what Jeongguk will say but now that you knew you were pregnant again, your womb felt full and that made you nervous. Did you look pregnant yet? Would Jeongguk feel a small bump? You pick at the skin on your bottom lip with your teeth as Jeongguk runs his fingers over your side.

"Jisung had a lot of fun with his uncles today and he got to come to dance practice, too." You smile at the thought of your son pretending to dance with the seven boys.

"I'm going to go wash up before bed. I have schedule tomorrow so I have to be up early." Jeongguk says before leaning in and kissing you gently. You kiss back before letting out a breath of relief as he stands up, his fingers tracing over your flat tummy without any tip off of anything different. Jeongguk is going to FREAK out, you should have the courage to tell him.

"Baby?" You ask as he starts to walk away. He stops short, his thigh muscles flexing as he turns back around.

"Hmm?" He hums confused, "When you're done washing up can we have a little chat?" You ask trying to hide your nervousness. Jeongguk smiles showing his dimple before entering the bathroom.

"Is something going on?" He calls out to you concerned as he grabs his face wash from the gold caddy on the wall next to the marble sink. You swallow before staring up at the ceiling.

"No... Well, kinda. Maybe?" You say confused. Jeongguk wrinkles his eyebrows as he stares at himself in the mirror. He turns the water on as he runs his fingers over his smooth skin.

"You know you can tell me anything, right babe?" He calls out to you. You put your hand on your flat stomach before closing your eyes. Your heart was beating quickly, the sound of it starting to fill your ears as your skin gets hotter. Jeongguk turns the water on before bending down to splash his face. His elbow hitting the face wash bottle sending it flying over the edge of the marble counter top and into the wastebasket on the side of the toilet.

“Aish.” He mumbles silently before bending down to retrieve it. “Why’s there so much toilet paper in the garbage?” He asks himself as he picks up the bottle and throwing the toilet paper into the toilet. He stares down in the garbage before backing up.

“No. No.” He mutters to himself as he kneels down on the heated floor. There were four pregnancy tests sitting in the garbage almost artistically stacked on top of each other.

“Babe?” You call to him nervously, you hear the ruffling of the garbage bag and you bolt out of bed.

Jeongguk picks the tests up with shaky hands before looking for the telltale lines. All four said pregnant. Jeongguk curses loudly before standing up, he would not almost lose you again. He couldn’t bear the weight of the world on his shoulders like that again. You were too precious to him and your son. You run into the bathroom as he clutches the tests in his hand.

“This what you want to talk about?” He asks quietly, you look at his scared cheek in the mirror as he swallows thickly. You want to cry, and run and scream but you have to be strong. You already love this baby and it wasn’t going anywhere even if you potentially could lose your life. Jeongguk throws the sticks into the trash violently before kicking the bucket over.

“Where’s your birth control? Hmm?” Jeongguk asks before rifling through your medicine cabinet. You swallow as he lets his rage out. You’ve seen Jeongguk destroy plenty of things when he’s angry, you just have to let it pass naturally. He grabs the thin piece of aluminum that holds your pills in place. His eyes narrow as he runs through all the days.

“You haven’t missed a day.” He says before throwing the birth control pills into the toilet. You bite your bottom lip as he walks past you into the master bedroom. You lean shakily on the door post as he paces across the room.

“How?” He asks putting is hands to his forehead. You open your mouth to talk but all that comes out is a squeak.

“Y/N, HOW?! HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN!?” He screams at the top of his lungs, the veins in his arms bulging out as he grips at his hair. You were the love of his life and you would not be going anywhere. Your eyes widen as he yells, your bite your bottom lip harder almost to the point of drawing blood.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, sometimes birth control doesn’t work one hundred percent of the time.” You murmur weakly making Jeongguk narrow his eyes at you.

“You didn’t mean for it? What will happen to our Jisung? Hmm? You’re going to keep it? What if you FUCKING DIE?! LIKE YOU ALMOST DIED WHEN YOU HAD OUR SON? I HAD TO WATCH YOU FUCKING ALMOST BLEED OUT ON THE DELIVERY TABLE AS HE CRIED AND CRIED.” This time your teeth sink into your lip as you taste iron in your mouth. You sniffle once before biting back a sob. You knew he would be against it but not like this. You could never have predicted this. You walk over to the bed and sit down as Jeongguk stares at you.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say?” He asks bitterly, you won’t open your mouth for fear of outwardly crying.

“Then I’ll talk. You’re my wife. I love you more than anything in this entire universe. I love my son more than anything but by no means am I willing to have an unborn life almost take your life, again. You think if you died would I have been able to love Jisung?” Your eyes snap up to Jeongguk’s as tears spill down the corners.

“Don’t you dare! Ever! Say you wouldn’t love him!” You screech standing up crying. Jeongguk looks taken aback before recovering himself.

“How could I love him if he murdered his mother? What if this baby kills you? How could I love them. WHY WOULD YOU GIVE BIRTH TO A MURDERER?!”

“STOP IT!” You scream loudly before running over to him and shoving him roughly.

“Yah!” He yells grabbing your wrists.

“Get rid of it. I don’t want it in our house! GET IT OUT!” He says pointing at your stomach.

“Get rid of that killer inside you.” You blanch at his harsh words before struggling to pull away from him.

“No.” You say simply before crossing your arms as his stance towers over you.

“No? So you would just die and leave me and Jisung by ourselves? You would be like that to your husband and son?” Jeongguk bends down to your height before taking in a breath.

“I love this baby just like I love you and our son!” You cry loudly putting your hands over your face as you trudge back towards the shared bed. Jeongguk swallows before watching you shuffle away. His heart breaking as his two year old son opens the bedroom door rubbing his eyes.

“Mommy?” Jisung whines rubbing his face. You wipe your face quickly as you sit on the bed and looking up at the bright light of the room to make yourself stop crying.

“I’m here, baby.” You say gently, your voice cracking slightly. Jeongguk’s legs get shaky as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. Jisung runs over to you with open arms and you embrace him quickly burying your face into his hair. Jeongguk sits down on the floor before replaying what he said. How the fuck could he say those things to you? How could he say he would never love his son? He begins to feel a balloon swell in his throat as his eyes burn. You were pregnant by no fault of your own and how harsh he has been towards you. He swallows as tears threaten to spill over. His knees come to his forehead as he hears you walk out of the room with your son in tow.

Jisung has finally gone back to sleep and you fear what’s to come when you step back into the bedroom. You close Jisung’s door quietly before tiptoeing down the hallway towards your room. Jeongguk’s sobs are the first thing you hear before his outward monologue of shame.

“How could you? How could you say those things to her? You stupid idiot.” He chides himself. You understand his heart, the fear he must be feeling. You would never want to be gone from this life if you could watch your Jisung grow up but while you were pregnant with him you made your peace with it. You walk back into the room before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Baby.” You call quietly to your husband. Jeongguk shakes his head childishly as he digs his head deeper into his lap.

“I’m sorry.” He cries quietly, you could almost her his bottom lip quivering as he talks.

“I’m not getting rid of this baby.” You say to him as you put your hand over your flat stomach. Jeongguk looks up before crying louder. His eyes wandering to your stomach, you had his child within you once more. He stands up before taking a deep breath and wiping his tear stained cheeks. He puts his hand on your thigh as he kneels in front of you.

“I love you. I’m just scared. I don’t think my heart could take it if something horrible happens to you again. I love you and our son. I shouldn’t have said such awful words to you.” You nod before running your fingers through his hair.

“I love you too. And, I love Jisung and this new baby.” Jeongguk swallows before putting his hand on your stomach. He clears his throat before putting his cheek to your thigh.

“You won’t lose me, it might be difficult but it was some of the happiest times I could remember. Being pregnant is a blessing, and especially since it wasn’t planned it makes it even more special. You shouldn’t have such horrible things to say about your own baby.” Jeongguk mentally smacks himself as he relives his temper tantrum.

“I’ll spend everyday thinking about how I can make up for the words I’ve said.” His long tattooed fingers caress your stomach before looking up at you. You look down at him incredulously.

“You’ve never said anything so mean to me. I hope you don’t really think those horrible things.” You say to him. Jeongguk sighs loudly before closing his eyes.

“Of course I don’t think those things. I was being horrible and nasty. I’m sorry.”

“No matter what hardships come and go, this is still your child and you have to love them like the moon loves the sun.” Jeongguk looks up at you before sniffling and wiping his face.

“I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. I’m so sorry.” Jeongguk stands up before laying on the bed and opening his arms. You press your lips together licking at the cut inside your mouth as you inch up the bed.

“I’m such a terrible person.” Jeongguk whispers as he wraps his arms around you. He buries his face into the crook of your neck before his fingers drift over your tummy.

“We’ll just take better care of you this time around, okay? I know you won’t give the baby up and I should never have said anything so evil.” You nod with relief as he squeezes you closely to him.

“I’ve never seen you so angry.” You whisper to him, Jeongguk takes in a sharp breath as his fingers rub comforting circles into your stomach.

“It was the first time in a long time, I thought you would leave me and this life we have. I love you so much that I can’t lose you. Thinking of you in pain and being hurt makes me angry.” He mumbles quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere. We are a perfect little family, we have no reason to worry yet. For all we know Jisung was a special case and this pregnancy can go swimmingly.” Jeongguk nods into your neck making you smirk.

“I love you and Jisung and Agi.” The word baby makes you smile.

“I know you do. Me too.” Jeongguk picks his head up before smiling at you.

“I’ll be the best husband and dad forever. Forgive me, please?” You know he’s sincere, you know he didn’t really mean the things he said while he was scared. You nod before feeling Jeongguk’s soft lips on yours. You smile into the kiss before Jeongguk moves down on the bed and lifts your pajama top kissing your flat stomach.

“Daddy won’t be mean to you ever again, I’m sorry Agi.” Jeongguk presses his cheek on your stomach before pulling out his phone. His phone begins to ring throughout the room as he flicks your belly button ring. You raise an eyebrow as Jeongguk hums gently in the large room.

“What’re you doing?” You whisper to your husband as he kisses your stomach.

“Hello?” You hear Jimin call through the phone.

“JIMIN-SSI!” Jeongguk yells loudly and you smack him on the shoulder before pointing towards Jisung’s room.

“Sorry.” He whispers to you.

“Jeongguk-ssi!” Jimin screams back.

“Put the camera on.” Jeongguk says before pushing the phone away from him. Jeongguk shows the phone to you and you smile and wave at Jimin. He waves back with a large smile.

“What’re you guys doing?” Jimin asks cutely as he stretches out on his bed.

“Laying in bed, thought I’d call you and tell you something.” Jeongguk says nonchalantly as he picks his head up off you. Jimin tilts his head confused. Jeongguk points the camera at your stomach.

“What’s wrong? Y/N feels sick? Or something?” You smirk at Jimin’s cluelessness.

“No.” Jeongguk says simply, Jimin rolls his eyes, “If you called me to play a guessing game, just hang up and go to bed.”

“But, it’s really exciting news.” Jeongguk says with a pout.

“So then just tell me, idiot.” Jimin whines. “Just look, okay?” Jeongguk asks with a laugh, Jimin gives a nod as Jeongguk bends down and kisses your stomach. Jimin opens his mouth before shaking his head and widening his eyes.

“What? One more time.” Jeongguk smirks before kissing it again.

“No fucking way.” Jimin mutters to himself. Jeongguk lays next to you putting his head on your shoulder.

“So what do you think? Uncle?” Jeongguk asks with a smile. Jimin stutters before throwing his body back.

“Again? Not one? But two?” He asks happily, you nod to him and he covers his face as he starts to cry. Jeongguk sighs happily, before rubbing your stomach.

“Are you that happy?” You ask Jeongguk’s best friend. Jimin wipes at his eyes with his sleeve.

“Yes!” He cries loudly, Jeongguk lowers the volume with a chuckle trying to be courteous to his son who he already has woken up tonight. You sigh happily, as you lay back comfortably.

“Y/N needs to sleep, she’s going to come with me tomorrow.” You look at Jeongguk surprised.

He winks at you, “Congratulations. I love you guys. I’m going to give you the biggest hug tomorrow Y/N. You have no idea.” You laugh before nodding.

“I will receive it with open arms.” Jimin laughs putting his head back before clapping happily.

“Love you guys. Goodnight.” Jimin says as you say your goodbyes. Jeongguk throws his phone on the side table before taking your face between his hands and kissing you hard.

“I’m going to work with you tomorrow?” You ask as Jeongguk pulls the covers up over your bodies before shutting off the light by the bed.

“Yeah, you’re coming to work and we’re going to surprise everyone with the good news.” Jeongguk pulls you closer to him in the darkness as he closes his eyes.

“I’m going to be a daddy again. And, I’ll work harder at being the best dad I can be. Thank you for making me a dad again, I’ll treasure this forever.” He kisses the top of your head as you close your eyes. No matter what would happen in this pregnancy, Jeongguk would be by your side one hundred percent of the way. You knew this and it warms your heart to know that no matter how Jeongguk expressed his fears he would always love his family more than anything.

#jeon jeongguk #angsty #fluff #one shot #bts #bts imagine #bts request #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk x you

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yikesimonfire · 3 years

Text

Misery Loves Company || Alfie & Mina

Timing: Last week. Location: Residential woods near Dark Score Lake Parties: @drowningisinevitable & @yikesimonfire Summary: Alfie and Mina have more in common than they realize, but it’s probably for the best. Content: internalized homophobia and mentions of domestic abuse

Ever since Bex showed her pretty little face, Alfie’s life had taken a sharp decline for the worse. It wasn’t her fault — he understood that on some level — but he needed someone to blame. These days, Alfie couldn’t stand being in his own home. Their laughter haunted him from the adjacent apartment, echoing incessantly at all hours; reminding him of how unimportant he truly was.

Eddie had gone years (their entire time as neighbors, in fact) without dating anyone. Suddenly, she was there all of the time. There was no longer any room for Alfie to be a part of Eddie's life. At least, that's what he managed to convince himself. The truth was that the lovebirds did try to include Alfie. It was he who shut them out, unable to bear being around them.

Alfie would never admit it, but he was heartbroken.

What good would it do to confess? What difference would it make? Absolutely none. He was in love with someone who, for reasons beyond their control, would never love him back. Alfie knew he would be forced to make peace with it eventually, but it was all so… sudden.

He'd taken it upon himself to evacuate his apartment as Bex and Eddie’s sickening coos seeped through the paper-thin walls; seeking comfort instead from the disheveled cabin he'd come to possess. It was an older building, unkempt throughout the span of his life — this life. Twenty-six or some odd years ago, the house was probably in its prime. But rot had since set into the wooden beams. The porch creaked, threatening to collapse under Alfie's weight as he traipsed the threshold.

By some miracle, the place still had electricity. The water pressure was almost nonexistent; not that Alfie had much of a need for it. However, in light of recent events, the bare minimum was no longer sufficient.

He intended to stay — at least more often.

With a hammer in hand, Alfie attempted to pry corroded nails from the patio’s dry-rotted boards. The metal fought against him, breaking under the pressure, and left fragments of the rusted nails tightly embedded in the wood. Great. First he can't stay at his own apartment without being reminded of his grief, and now he has to deal with this?!

"Mother fucker," Alfie grumbled, striking the porch with the hammer. "Can't I have one good thing for once? Just one!" The platform quivered beneath him, ignoring his plea, and Alfie collapsed onto his back in a pathetic heap. "Fine. Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore," he told the house. "I could set you on fire, you realize that, right? It'll look like an accident… I could probably collect the insurance payment." An idle threat to an inanimate object was pointless, but at least it made him feel a little better. The house wasn't insured, anyway.

The house was stuffy from disuse, but Mina found that she didn’t particularly mind. She opened up the windows. It would be fine. Her dad, when he first found the place, hadn’t signed the lease for her because he thought it was quaint or because it was modern. It was livable enough, it was close to a water source, and it would be a good base for the two of them when he returned to White Crest for them to set up shop. Well, now, at least, it was still livable enough.

Mina didn’t particularly care about livability. She was just looking for a place to sleep that didn’t remind her of Bex. The house was small and barren, save for a few clothes that she’d left and a tiny amory’s worth of weapons in the spare room. She had the windows open to allow fresh air to come in, and she was sitting at the small kitchen’s counter, sleeves rolled up while she was wrapping bandages around her arm. She encountered a chimera in the woods the night before, some wretched conglomeration of an actual wolf, a cockatrice, and a flederprey that had managed to get a few good hits in before she put it out of its misery. It hadn’t even been hard. She hadn’t even thought about it.

That was kind of the goal, these days. Mina just wanted to work and fight and run until exhaustion took her, sometimes in the middle of the night, crashing face first into a stream. She’d ruined a lot of clothes, recently.

The sound of cursing from the usually empty house next door startled Mina from what she was doing. She pulled her sleeves down and looked outside. It was a young man, about her age, that she’d seen a few times over the last two years. They’d waved but never really talked. He didn’t stay for long. She didn’t mind. She wasn’t overly good at socializing; it had been years since she’d practiced good neighbor etiquette.

But he seemed to be having a hard time. Sighing, Mina headed outside, walking the distance between their little houses. She made sure to make plenty of noise, so as not to startle him too bad when she called out, “Everything alright?”

Alfie hadn’t meant to attract attention from the neighbors. In fact, he didn’t even realize the young woman from the house over still lived there. The few times he’d been over recently, the other house seemed entirely vacant; not that it was any of his business. As the brush crunched underneath her feet, signaling her approach, Alfie bolted upright.

Nothing was alright, he wanted to state. But the girl was probably less concerned about his personal relationships than his assault on his porch.

“Oh, sure, sure,” Alfie lied with ease. “Just trying to fix the place up is all. It’s, uh… not going too well.” That was evident from the fact that he was trying to remove a board while he was sitting on it. He had no idea what he was doing.

A heavy sigh escaped him before he tossed the hammer to the side, maneuvering himself to sit on the edge of the porch. “Actually— that’s not true,” Alfie admitted. “I mean… it is true to an extent. Mostly, I’m just taking out my frustration on the woodwork.” Why did he just say that? She didn’t care. She couldn’t possibly care. Yet, here he was, unloading his baggage onto a complete stranger because he found himself without a single friend in the world that he felt he could air his grievances to.

“Everything’s shit,” he added with a shrug. After a moment, Alfie realized the weight of his words and offered her a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, that’s… probably not something I should have shared.” His hand reached behind him, nervously rubbing the back of his neck, as his eyes shifted to her own house. “I haven’t seen you around recently. Didn’t know you were still living there.”

“I see,” Mina said slowly, looking at the young man as he attempted to… she didn’t know what he was attempting, actually. Something with the porch. It didn’t seem to be working in his favor, more a cause of frustration than proper work. And then he got to the problem, and she nodded her head in understanding. “Ah, that makes more sense. Things are actually going quite poorly for me, too, but I’ve been going out most nights in an effort to try and exhaust myself into sleeping.”

That wasn’t what Mina wanted to say. At all. Frowning, she rocked on her heels a bit. That amount of open honesty wasn’t what she wanted to share with this guy that was practically a stranger, but she hadn’t been able to stop the words from tumbling from her lips in an uncharacteristic overshare.

“I’m sorry that it’s like that,” Mina said, trying to start again. She rubbed at her arms. “It’s okay. I mean, if you’d like to talk about it, I have no one to tell.” She followed his gaze, looking at the place that she couldn’t call home. Not now, not really. “I’ve been staying with some friends, actually. I got hurt pretty bad a couple of months ago-- fell off a cliff, I don’t recommend-- but.” She felt like she had to physically stop herself from saying too much. She cleared her throat. “I couldn’t stand to be there because it reminds me of someone I miss, and I don’t want to feel like a burden, so I decided I should stay here more often.”

Something was definitely wrong, Mina decided. She couldn’t stop blurting out the truth. “I apologize. Now, ah, I seem to be the one that’s oversharing,” she said, trying to laugh off the intense embarrassment that she felt.

Alfie raised his brows in concern as his pseudo-neighbor shared her own woes. Unfortunately, he understood the lack of sleep all too well at this point. A sad smile tugged at the corners of his lips as she continued. Interrupting her would have been rude. Instead, he nodded along, making minimal eye contact. His heart sank deeper into his stomach as the young woman explained why she’d returned to the little house in the woods. It was all too similar to his own reasoning for being here now.

But then she was apologizing and the emptiness he felt on behalf of both of them mixed with guilt. “No, no!” Alfie quickly interjected. “There’s no need to apologize, really. I, uh… I hate to hear that.” He wanted to assure her that he was going through something similar. That she wasn’t alone in her grief. That he understood how it must have felt that her entire world was falling apart because so was his. But he couldn’t bring himself to say any of it.

Instead, Alfie scooched over before gingerly patting the spot beside him. He wouldn’t have blamed her for not taking a seat, but at that moment, it seemed like the right thing to do.

“That’s why I’m here too,” he croaked feebly. “I mean — sort of.” Alfie cleared his throat; his eyes fixed on the ground. It was probably strange, but he felt obligated to share the source of his own misery with her now. “I live— I have an apartment downtown, but… I can’t stand being there anymore.” His brows knit together as a tight knot formed in his throat, threatening to choke him. Before he knew it, his nose stung and he let out a strangled sigh, preceding a sniffle. “Because I hear them, you know? Talking — laughing — and I just… That should be me.”

Alfie’s voice cracked and he forced a terse laugh. “Sorry… I sound ridiculous, don’t I? Unloading all of this while you’ve got your own things to worry about.” He hadn’t told anyone about this until now. “I’m glad you’re okay. I mean, y’know… after the whole cliff thing. That obviously doesn’t help what you’re going through now, but…” Say it, he mentally berated himself. Just say it already.

“You’re not alone,” he added finally.

“I usually don’t talk this much,” Mina said. “I seem to be having trouble with-- with my words.” The last time she’d gotten like this, she’d been young, and she’d lied about things to the point of being quite sick, and then she just overshared everything. It had been embarrassing and ridiculous, and she’d had to find new ways to get around the constantly spouting out the truth. She hoped that wasn’t happening now; it would just be the icing on top of the cake of how bad things were going.

She moved to sit beside him, lowering herself onto the porch gingerly. Mina was bruised all over, and it wasn’t broken bones, but she still ached. She ached in her chest, too. “It’s better out here. I’m not reminded of-- of everything.” Of good times and bad times and all the little moments in between. Of sitting by the pool, and doing homework in the kitchen, and falling asleep on the couch.

Breathing out a sigh, Mina shook her head. “You hardly sound ridiculous. That sounds-- sounds achingly familiar, wanting to be away from somewhere that you can’t stand.” She wondered who these people were that made the young man beside her so sad.

“Would you believe me if I said the cliff feels like a rather minor thing, all things considered? Which, now, that sounds ridiculous because the water would have killed me, and I can’t even drown but I was drowning.” Stop talking, Mina told herself, but she couldn’t. “But this just feels so much worse because I knew the cause of that pain, but now I’m in pain, and it’s so stupid, it’s utterly stupid because I didn’t think I could feel like this.” She cleared her throat. “Now that’s ridiculous,” she finished softly. “But thank you. I appreciate that.” Even if she was alone. Even if she was making herself alone.

“Yeah, me neither,” Alfie scoffed. For the most part, Alfie preferred to keep to himself. He was meticulously careful about what he said, how he said it, and who he said it to. Not even his family knew much about him. At least, not the developments over the past few years; more than half a decade now. The only two people that could contend this were Nell and Eddie. Even then, there was still a lot he couldn’t bring himself to tell them.

A deep frown etched into his features as he listened to the other speak. He might not have been aware of her situation, but it eerily mirrored his own. Alfie missed his friend — his best friend. He missed the sound of Eddie’s laugh when he said something stupid, whether intentional or not. He missed sitting beside him on the sofa and the feeling of their shoulders pressed together. He missed hearing the balcony door creak open. He missed Bucket. In retrospect, only a handful of days had gone by since Alfie started pulling away. Bex took everything from him in one fell swoop.

Alfie didn’t know what the girl sitting beside him had (and was) going through, but it wasn’t unreasonable for her to feel that falling off of a cliff wasn’t as crushing as her current situation. “Not ridiculous,” he spoke finally; his voice small. Her confession of not being able to drown didn’t even register — at least, not in the way she meant it. Alfie was all too familiar with death-by-water that the passing comment hardly struck him as odd. He wanted to comfort her. To let her get everything out. It helped to talk about things that upset you. Or, so he’d been told. But in the same regard, he wanted to selfishly do the same. Maybe he could do both…

“It fucking sucks,” Alfie emphatically stated as he threw his hands into the air before letting them drop back to his lap with a light thud. “To hurt so badly and know that there’s nothing you can do to make it any better. To not be able to bear being in your own home because everything reminds you of this person. Because you know you shouldn’t love him the way you—” There it was: the precise feeling Alfie tried so desperately to not put a name on.

Alfie swallowed the knot that formed in his throat. His shoulders drooped, eyes still staring at the ground, and he leaned forward with a sigh. “Not that— I don’t mean that I think you’re hurting because of some guy. I—” Slowly, Alfie dragged a palm down his face before he cupped his chin. “Projecting, I guess.”

“It-- Yes, yes,” Mina agreed because it did. It fucking sucked. “And it’s not like being out of the house helps. Being here is nice, but it’s a temporary solution.” The only thing that truly helped was moving, constantly moving, fighting and helping and protecting and moving until she couldn’t move anymore. She was so exhausted that it was weighing her down like lead, but even the exhaustion didn’t make it go away. The scrapes and bruises didn’t make it go away.

Mina looked at this guy, this young man that she’d only ever really talked to in passing, and she couldn’t help but think of what a pair they made. But of them so utterly dejected and hurt and unable to feel comfortable in their own homes, both of them aching.

Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, Mina shook her head and laughed, but there wasn’t any joy in it. “Not a guy, no, just a girl who I gave my heart to without realizing it.” And she hadn’t realized it because she hadn’t thought it was possible, really, to care about someone that much. She couldn’t. She couldn’t. But she could, apparently, and it just ached. “It just aches,” she said out loud. “And I don’t even blame her for it. I’m not mad, just… I’m not mad.” Being mad would be pointless, and it wouldn’t make this stop. Nothing would.

“Do you want to talk about this guy that you were trying to project onto me?” Mina asked, trying to keep her voice light but genuinely concerned. He seemed to need to talk, and she didn’t want to risk even more words spilling out without her wanting them to.

Alfie gave a knowing nod. As much relief he found here, there was just as much sadness. To a certain degree, he hated it here more. The weight of his self-proclaimed curse lived within those four walls behind him. At least back at his apartment he had means of distraction.

When she explained what her own pain was linked to, Alfie’s head turned slightly towards her. They were in the exact same boat. "Yeah," he muttered, an empathetic frown flashing across his features. "Me too." It wasn't Eddie's fault that he didn't reciprocate Alfie's feelings. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't care for him in the exact same way. Eddie cared — of course he did. He offered Alfie friendship without hesitation. And even when Alfie tried to keep himself at a distance, Eddie never relented. How could he possibly be mad about that? If anything, it only made Alfie love him more.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Alfie sighed. His feelings for Eddie were years in the making. Where was he supposed to start? The beginning? The first time they crossed paths as new neighbors? The first time Eddie dragged himself home from a shitty part-time job, pizza box in hand, and offered it to Alfie? The first time he crossed the boundary between their balconies and let himself into Alfie’s apartment? “He’s straight, for one thing. Not exactly fair of me to be as wrecked as I am, huh? I always knew that— that it would never work out.”

“I thought I’d made peace with it until he started seeing someone. A girl… obviously. Since… y’know… straight.” Alfie fumbled over his words, wringing his hands as he spoke. “Then, everything just sucked. I— I knew why it upset me pretty immediately. Not that I could tell him that. He’d probably resent me for it. And besides, it wouldn’t change anything.” Because he’s straight, Alfie almost reiterated. “So now I’m just some gay cliche; pining after my best friend.” Losing him because of it. He’d lose him either way. There was no winning.

“I’m rather of the mindset that nothing’s particularly fair,” Mina said, her voice dry. It wasn’t fair that she was unable to be comfortable in her own skin. It wasn’t fair that Bex felt like she had to go back to her parents when she wasn’t safe there. It wasn’t fair that Mina was stuck on her when Bex clearly didn’t feel the same. “It’s very hard to stop yourself from liking someone once you’ve started doing it, even if that was never the intention. Not like that, at least.”

Or maybe it was just that Mina couldn’t stop once she thought it was reciprocated. She’d been able to stop herself before, from caring about people. It hadn’t been hard; no one had ever cared about her. Not like that. And everytime she thought she might be genuinely attracted to one of the younger hunters that she and her dad had worked with, she reminded herself that she couldn’t and that they’d never feel that way about her. It helped when they confirmed these thoughts. They always did.

But Mina allowed herself to fall, hard and fast and reckless, and it had been wonderful, and it had been devastating, and, as soon as she came to terms with it, it had been hell. There’s nothing quite like seeing that the person who you’d do absolutely anything for already in a serious, public relationship with someone else.

“I don’t know much about cliches, unfortunately,” Mina said, “but, if it makes you feel any better, I’m in love--” in love, in love, in love, and even the thought of it ached in its sincerity because there was no lie, “-- with someone that moved on so fast I think it gave me actual whiplash.”

Alfie’s heart ached at her words. He tried desperately to not have feelings for Eddie, but they always crept back up at the most inconvenient times. It was never anything more than attraction, or so he thought. But as time went by and he opened himself up to the other man, it was impossible for Alfie to deny that he’d formed a crush on his neighbor. To hear that this feeling was not exclusive to him was almost comforting. At least, as comforting as two forlorn and pining people could be to each other.

“You were in a relationship, then?” Alfie asked, trying to maintain a steady voice. That seemed worse than what he was going through. No matter how much physical affection Eddie gave him, it never came with a label. Why would it? That was just how Eddie was; physical.

Alfie recalled the first time he met Bex and how quickly he assumed she’d spent time canoodling with Eddie on the couch. No matter how much he tried to push the idea aside and brush it off as something that Eddie usually did with friends, he couldn’t help feeling jealous that he wasn’t the only one to receive that sort of attention from him. The moment Bex showed up at Eddie’s doorstep with a gift, Alfie should have known that it would lead to something more than friendship.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that must feel,” Alfie stated. But he could. He did. All too well, in fact.

He thought about reaching out to give her a consoling pat on the shoulder. That’s what people did, right? Used physical touch to make someone feel better? Alfie didn’t know much about that. He usually just wanted to be left alone when he was upset. Maybe she shared this feeling, too. Instead, Alfie decided to ask more questions that might help. “Have you talked to her about it? I mean — that’s a dumb question, huh? I’m sure you have if you were in love.” Are in love, he remembered.

“We… didn’t really call it anything,” Mina said. And they hadn’t. I want you. They wanted each other. Bex had hurt someone for her. “I mean, we kissed and we spent a lot of time together, and I don’t know how to fall asleep without her around, but we never-- We didn’t call it a relationship.”

Bex was Mina’s best friend. She was one of the most important people in Mina’s life, and she’d worked her way into that position in a very, very short amount of time. It was terrifying, how much Mina cared about Bex. It was terrifying how much she’d do for her. Having a name for it didn’t make it any easier. Sometimes, it made it worse.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.” It hurts. It hurts. Mina said, “It hurts, but I don’t think I would trade it? I wouldn’t trade it, actually.” It was devastating, but there was a part of her that was in awe over the fact that she could feel something that she just hadn’t thought was possible for her entire life. It made the hurt worth it.

“Absolutely not,” Mina said. “She doesn’t-- We’re not really talking. About that. Any of that. I don’t know if I could, really, at this point. It’d probably just make this worse. That tends to be what I do, most of the time. Make things worse. It always feels like I make things worse.” She swallowed back words, all of them too much, just wanting to spill from her throat without her permission. She changed course instead. “I didn’t introduce myself. I never have, actually, despite how long it’s been. My name is Mina. Wilhelmina Fitzroy, actually, but that’s rather long, isn’t it? Just Mina is fine.”

“Oh,” Alfie said, pretending to understand how two people could kiss without “calling it anything”. It was normal, right? One night stands. Friends with benefits. Then again, he supposed those were labels. Maybe there was a label that applied here — not that it was any of his business. Just because he liked to assign words to things didn’t mean everyone else had to.

Whatever their relationship entailed, it baffled Alfie. Clearly, she was emotionally suffering. Why wouldn’t she want to trade that if she could? Given the chance, Alfie would have easily traded his feelings towards Eddie for a normal friendship with him. That’s what Eddie wanted, after all — for things to be normal between them. For his best friend to not disappear the second his girlfriend came around. If he could give Eddie that kind of friendship, he would; even if — especially if — it meant no longer having feelings for him.

Alfie frowned when she mentioned feeling that she had a knack for making things worse. Admittedly, he doubted that was true, but he couldn’t exactly tell her that she didn’t. He didn’t know her, aftall. So when she offered a proper introduction before he had a chance to find the appropriate thing to say, Alfie was grateful. “Mina,” he repeated as he flashed her a smile and extended his hand for her to shake. “Alfie,” he stated simply before elaborating. “Actually, if it makes you feel any better, my full name’s Alfonzo Ramirez. Just as much of a mouthful. But, uh… It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Mina.”

“She was my best friend,” Mina said quickly, the words coming out in a desperate attempt to try and explain. “And then she was more, and now she’s everything and nothing at all.” And that’s somehow what Bex had become. Because Mina would still do anything for her; that hadn’t changed. But Bex was unreachable. Even if they still talked sometimes. Even if she still acted like she cared, sometimes.

Did the explanation even help? Honestly, Mina didn’t know. It didn’t change anything. It wasn’t any sort of revelation that finding out that she was actually in love had been. It was just undeniable truth. She knew it to be true like she knew mathematical theory, like she knew most of Einuadi’s pieces by heart, like she knew the sting of cold iron slashing and burning through skin. She knew it intimately. It wasn’t a groundbreaking thing, to say the words out loud. It just made her sad.

“It’s nice to meet you, officially, Alfie,” Mina said, shaking his hand. It was warm, hot, even. She wondered if he had a fever, but he seemed alright. “I wish it was under better circumstances for both of us, though. “What about you and your friend?im sorry about the girlfriend, and all of that, but… I don’t think you should be so hard on yourself, for falling in love with him, or for feeling like you can’t be around him. If he’d resent you for your feelings, then I don’t know if he’s a good friend at all.”

Who knew a simple phrase like “she was my best friend” could hit Alfie so profoundly? Eddie might not have been anything more than that — his best friend — but the sentiment resonated more than Alfie wanted to admit. Would the same ring true for their friendship soon enough? Would Eddie somehow become “everything and nothing at all” for him? He didn’t want that. He wanted his best friend. No girlfriends. No boyfriends. He just wanted Eddie. Why couldn’t it be that simple?

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Alfie assured before releasing Mina’s hand and wiping his palm against his pant leg. He hadn’t realized how clammy he was until his skin came in contact with hers. With any luck, she didn’t notice — or if she had, he hoped she wasn’t completely repulsed by him now. The fact that she continued the conversation by asking him more about his situation was probably a good sign, right? “My friend,” he reiterated with a forced chuckle.

“It’s complicated.” Far more complicated than Alfie knew how to put into words. As it turned out, Eddie didn’t resent him for having feelings for him. It would have been easier if he did. No matter how hard Alfie tried to pretend that his relationship with Bex had little to no effect on him, he failed. Miserably. It didn’t take long at all for the other man to piece everything together; he read Alfie like a book. Eddie still wanted to be friends, that much was certain, but he needed it to work out with Bex. Whatever that meant. It would be good for him. It was what he wanted. So, Alfie had to accept it no matter how much it killed him.

“But, uh… thank you. It means a lot, really. It’s not that—” Alfie allowed himself to trail off, his shoulders drooping once again with a deep sigh. “He doesn’t resent me, though. I wish he did, but… He’s a really good guy. He doesn’t get enough credit for just how good he is, actually. In fact, I don’t think he even realizes it. I should have told him more, y’know? Before… before all of this. And from what I can tell, she’s a really nice girl.” As he spoke, Alfie’s eyes wandered further away from Mina, deciding that the tufts of grass, dirt, and leaves around the porch were somehow interesting. “He deserves someone good — someone like him. I was always shit to him, anyway.”

“Complicated is… familiar,” Mina murmured in response. Because things had never been not been complicated. There had never really been a moment when things had been going well. There had always been something. Warden ex-boyfriends, out of control werewolves, homicidal selkies, houses falling down, a mother that treated her daughter like prey. Nothing had ever been easy. And then it was gone, and all that was left was feelings and hurt and dreams that lingered and shifted themselves into nightmares. So Mina tried not to sleep much. She was always so tired.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she said quickly. Even if Mina didn’t know how to twist people’s thanks into favors, it was better to play it safe. “Please don’t. Thank me.” She glanced over at him, tired and as sad as she was, and she rubbed at her injured arm hidden under her sleeves. “I’m glad he doesn’t resent you, and that he’s kind and good, though I know that doesn’t lessen your pain. Trust me, I know.” She knew all too well. She knew what it was like to just want someone to be happy.

Alfie’s words were cutting, even if he didn’t realize it. Mina also thought that Bex deserved someone good. And the Youtube guy (Eddie, his name was Eddie) seemed good. He seemed kind. He was funny and probably really easy to be around, and he probably didn’t keep things from her. He was probably human. He could probably give Bex more than Mina ever could. “I--” Her voice was higher than she wanted it to be. She cleared her throat. “I get that. I do.” She did. She did. She did.

Eddie’s goodness did not, in fact, lessen Alfie’s pain, just as their conversation the day after the fateful karaoke night hadn’t. Everything was confusing. He’d never been more uncertain of anything in his life and he’d… well, he’d lived more lives than he cared to admit. He wondered if it was ever simple for him, but highly doubted that was the case.

On the other hand, Mina asking that he not thank her was also not something that Alfie was able to successfully process. “I mean it, though,” he continued with a gentle smile. “Talking with you… it’s been nice.” He hadn’t even been this forthright when it came to talking to his sister, Leah. She knew more specifics than Mina did, but until now he hadn’t allowed anyone to really know how the entire situation made him feel — Eddie didn’t even get an actual confession.

“It’s gonna get better, Mina. Things suck now, but it’ll get better. For both of us. I promise.”

Mina managed a small smile. “It has been nice. All the same, you shouldn’t thank me. It’s-- This has been nice for me, too, in a weird, kind of painful way. There’s nothing to thank, truly.” And maybe that was a bit more information than was needed, but still. It was true. Of course it was true. All she could manage was the truth.

Eyes widening at the promise, Mina stood up. “No. I release you from that promise. Don’t promise things like that.” There wasn’t much of a chance that things were going to get better than they already were. Not for her. She was stuck like this for the rest of her life. It was luck that she’d managed to do it once, fall in love. She didn’t want to do it again. She couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t.

“I hope… I hope it gets better for you, Alfie. I really do.” Mina gave him a sad smile. “But you shouldn’t make promises to people that can’t be kept. It’s dangerous. Especially around here.” Especially with people like me. “I-- It was really nice talking to you. I appreciate you talking with me.”

Alfie should have known better than to go around making idle promises to strangers in the woods, but here he was. As soon as Mina interjected, giving him a proper scolding all the same, Alfie’s eyes widened. Fae — she had to be. No one could grow up in the Ramirez family without learning how to keep themselves safe from all harm. Nevermind how disappointed his parents would have been if they knew, Leah would be upset enough for the both of them. The thought made him chuckle, although his timing wasn’t so appropriate.

“Sorry, sorry… I— mmm…” Alfie pursed his lips together as he carefully rose from the porch. The less he said the better, right? “I hope everything works out for you, then.” Were wishes a fae thing? Shit, he couldn’t remember. Even so, that couldn’t have counted as a wish, right? “Sorry,” he murmured again. Fae or not, she seemed alright in his book. Granted, his knowledge was far more limited than other studious members of his family. For all he knew, Mina would sneak into his cabin while he slept and turn him into a tree.

He almost reached out for a parting handshake but instead gave a timid wave goodbye. “Yeah, of course.” Anytime, Alfie stopped himself from saying. “It was, uh… a pleasure to meet you, Mina. Maybe I’ll see you around, neighbor.” Even now, while he was desperate to escape his life outside of these woods, the word didn’t sound quite right. He wouldn’t last the night in this cabin.

#c: mina #writing #wickedswriting #misery loves company #internalized homophobia tw #domestic abuse tw

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