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nanastea · 3 years

Text

for the sake of it

order: HI! I absolutely adore your blog and writing, and was hoping to get a small taro milk tea with mango jelly (add-ons egg pudding, this is my favorite irl too btw!) for my sweet boy megumi? And I'd like to request a fake dating au where it initially started out as a prank but it turned into something more? – @dumrus

pairing: fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

word count: 1,732

tags: fake dating au! idiots in love, little angst for a short while but gets a happy ending!

date: apr. 17, 2021

nana’s note: ahhh thank you so much @dumrus for being my first order!! i was so happy when i received this order and got super excited about writing it that i kind of got carried away and wrote a too long of an imagine (*꒦ິ³꒦ີ) and i'm not sure if i got the prank part correctly ヽ( T–T)ノi’m sorry about that! but i do hope you will enjoy this~ constructive feedback is appreciated!

previous order: notes for you

you’ve always been with megumi for as long as you can remember. you two met at jujutsu high when gojo had introduced the young megumi to you. the spikey dark haired boy had no interest in you nor did you in him. you both were young and had no idea what curses or cursed energy was so it was mostly training and training.

but due to the low attendance of students enrolled in the academy, there was only you and megumi so ultimately you guys had to rely on each other. but with the news of new first years coming to the academy, you and megumi hadn’t been expecting to build new relationships. nobara kugisaki and itadori yuuji were the new first years and students that you two had to work with.

they were a handful, especially yuuji who became the vessel of the king of curses, ryomen sukuna. the first few weeks of getting to know the new students, it was quite awkward and naturally you and megumi stuck together. that isn’t unnoticed by kugisaki nor yuuji.

“are you and y/n dating?” yuuji had asked one day. the four of you had been training when the two boys had gone to get drinks from the vending machines. megumi glanced at the pink haired boy as he pressed a button on the machine.

“no.” he simply replied. “are you interested in her?”

“no, no.” the former waved his hands. “i just thought so because you guys are always together.”

“we aren’t dating.” you two had said. on the other hand, kugisaki had asked you the same question.

“hah?” she drew out in disbelief. “there is no way. you guys are always together! you don’t even have a speck of feelings for him?” you pick at the edges of your sweater and shrug. did you even think of megumi that way? well, he may appear cold, but he has his ways of concern. like when he catches you before you fell down those stairs one day, or when he brings you your favorite snacks when you’re not well, or taking care of you when you’re ill…

the next thing you knew, your face had flushed and burned red.

“you do!” kugisaki pointed out and laughed out loud. you could die. you hid your head in the palms of your hands and cringed. this can’t be.

“what’s so funny, kugisaki?” yuuji’s voice says. the voice suddenly made you shoot your head up knowing if the pink haired boy was there, then an all too familiar spikey haired boy would be back too. your eyes effortlessly fall onto megumi’s who looks back in concern.

“you’re red. are you alright?” he asked. if your face could feel any hotter, it could.

“she’s fine! she just overdid training!” kugisaki lied through her teeth whilst attempting to hold back her laughter and patting your back.

“well, you can sit this one out until you feel better.” megumi offers and you nod dumbly. you just dug your own grave. with your feelings now surfaced, you can’t do anything except keep your newfound feelings locked tightly in your heart. megumi doesn’t need to know about them. however, that’s beginning to get difficult when you’ve gotten yourself in situations where megumi was always there to catch you before you fell.

“you’ve really been out of it, y/n. are you sure you’re okay?” he had asked. you had just bumped your head against the wall when you found megumi walking down the opposite side of the hall and you had abruptly turned around to avoid him, but ended up hitting your head on the wall.

“i’m fine.” you shake your head, holding the cool ice pack against your head.

“i don’t think so, you’ve been spacing out a lot lately and i’m worried about you.” the words fall so effortlessly from his lips and you clench your eyes closed, feeling how your heart begins to race erratically.

“i’m fine, megumi. really.” you assured, looking up at him and giving him your best grin. megumi does not believe you, but he lets you be and withdraws back in the chair.

“what about you? how are you holding up on training with kugisaki?” you ask this time to settle your nerves. a small groan leaves the other’s lips and you can’t help but chuckle.

“that bad huh?”

“it’s not that.” megumi starts. “she always tries to find a way to ask if you and i are dating. clearly, we’re not but she’s persistent. it’s worse because itadori is also asking.” your heart clenches a little at his words, but you swallow it down to the pit of your stomach. is it really that bad?

“i mean we can just say that we are dating, but we actually aren’t. like you know, fake dating. kind of?” the boy looks at you with a small tilt of his head.

“why?” you begin to get anxious and clear your throat, looking behind him to prepare what to say next.

“w-well it’s going to get awkward between us if they keep asking, right? i mean they’ll probably stop pestering us?” you reason hopefully. megumi is silent and you’re beginning to regret your offer.

“i-i mean it’s only a thought, it’s not that we have to follow–”

“no. i think that’ll be a good idea. they’ll definitely stop asking.” he nods. “let’s do it.”

“y-yeah.” and when you guys told kugisaki and yuuji that you two were ‘dating,’ they had sighed in relief claiming that they ‘knew it’ and you two were ‘just hiding it.’ you chuckled awkwardly and nodded along.

fortunately, the plan did work and kugisaki and yuuji had stopped bothering you guys about your relationship. on the other hand, you can’t help but notice the tense awkwardness between you and megumi whenever you two were alone together. maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all.

you’re in kugisaki’s room for another of your group to get together to down all kinds of junk food and watch corny horror movies. after getting tired of movies, you’re all on the bed and chatting away–more like kugisaki and yuuji are chatting your ears off. and you’re not sure how the conversation was directed at you and megumi’s relationship. if you even want to call it that.

“what do you mean?” you looked at the orange head skeptically.

“kiss! i meant kiss! have you guys even kissed yet?” the question hangs in the air and you can feel the spiked boy behind you tense, shuffling his legs. you avoid the prying eyes and clear your throat. what the hell were you guys going to respond to that? the silent response makes nobara and itadori’s jaws drop.

“no way!” they both exclaim, gasping and covering their mouths ever so dramatically.

“you guys dated this long and you haven’t even kissed once?” itadori inquired, brows raised in shock. you utter something that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“what was that, y/n?”

“we weren’t even dating in the first place.” silence consumes the room before it erupts into sounds of gasps and an uproar of shouts.

“what?!”

“no way! why did you lie?!” kugisaki voiced offensively.

“you guys were so insistent that we were dating, but we really weren’t. so, we just pretended to date so you guys would stop asking.” you say. kugisaki and yuuji don’t say anything and their eyes glance at megumi who seems to find a strange liking in picking at the edges of his sweatpants. the two glance at each other and settle back onto the bed.

“we didn’t mean to have forced anything on you two.” kugisaki said, gentle and a little guilty because it seemed like the two of you were on the brink of something that she did not want to happen. you weren’t able to respond when you feel megumi shuffle behind you and off the bed.

“i’m tired. i’m just. gonna go sleep.” megumi muttered, hand rubbing his neck and eyes refusing to meet anyone’s. he cleared his throat and shuffled out of the room. the room is silent again. two pairs of eyes fall on your slumped frame and when itadori opens his mouth to say something, he’s cut off with yours.

“i’m tired too. i’ll see you guys tomorrow.” and you, too, leave the room without another word. the following days have been the hardest for you. you were foolishly hooked up on your feelings for the spiky haired boy which caused you to fall countless times while training with kugisaki. she knew what got you so up in the clouds and felt guilty for what she put you two through.

“i think you should try confessing just to get it off your chest.” she told you. “trust me, it’ll be awkward at first, but you guys will forget it later. probably even look back and laugh about it.” you take her words into consideration and nod defeatedly.

“yeah, i guess.” was everything going to go back to normal once you do confess? would you guys really look back and laugh about it as part of your silly adolescent life? a heavy sigh leaves your lips.

“speak of the devil.” she grinned and nodded her head to which you followed and looked behind you. it’s megumi. he has a hand in his pocket and the other is rubbing the back of his neck and his eyes are looking to the side.

“may i speak to you, y/n?”

“o-oh. yeah, sure.” you two leave the area and head to the vending machines where you two get your respective drinks for you and your friends. that is until megumi stands to his full height and faces you, making you look at him confused.

“megumi?” you hear him clear his throat and breath out.

“i, uh, i’ve really thought about it over the time we have been apart, and,” he swallows. “i really like you, y/n. i know it’s still awkward between us because of what happened, but i needed to tell you this.” you’re stunned, shocked at what you heard. you couldn’t even process what he said when he started to doubt his words and begin to take them back.

“n-no!” you abruptly say, shaking your head. you swallow whatever was left of you and say those four words of reciprocation, albeit stumbled over them.

“i like you too, megumi.”

if you enjoyed, reblogs are welcomed! ෆ(´ . .̫ . `)ෆ what can i get for you?

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#nana.orders #n.taro milk tea #n.small drinks #n.fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi imagine #megumi fluff #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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xoxo-nikki-xoxo · 4 years

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First time

Jacob Black × female reader

Prompt number 44: "Are you sure? Once I start I-I don't know if I can stop "

Warning: Smut at the end.

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“Y/n.... “ he mumbles softly waiting for you to come back into your room. You where currently in your bathroom trying to rack threw your brain. You want, no you needed this is so perfect. Its Jacob fucking Black if you weren’t perfect you would die. Did you shave yourself? Everywhere like you remind yourself to? Put perfume and deodorant on? It was just 6 months ago he told you have you where his imprint. Soulmate was I think the word he used to compare it too. But its so different i’m only 18 and i’m about to comment myself to him. To our future together... If I mess up he-

“I can hear your heart rate pick up I- uh-” He chokes on the last part of the sentence

“o great... i’m hideous aren’t I? I was trying to make sure tonight went absolutely perfe-”

“You are perfect, I choked because of how beautiful you are to me” Jacob cuts you off. He approach’s you wrapping his arms around your waist, one hand going up to your cheek to push hair out of your face. “I wish you could see yourself threw my eyes sometimes..You would understand then just how much i love you, just how much you mean to me, just how perfect you are for me.” He leans in pressing his lips gently against yours.

“Are you sure you want to do this tonight...?” Your question is barely above a whisper

“Of course I want you... You have no clue just how much i love you... even if we’ve only been together for 6 months that’s 26 weeks, 183 days, and 4380 hours I've been either with you or thinking about you... I know it sounds a little cheesy but I want you today, tomorrow, next week.. I want you for the rest of my life..” Jacob says, his foreheads resting on top of yours as you gaze into his eyes. You smile when he starts saying how hes always gonna want to have you.

“Keep talking to me like that Jacob you just might have me forever” You say as you kiss him. All those fears you had are out the window. He washed away your fears and you where happy to have him. “Let’s move this party to the my bed huh?” You say smiling as you push him gently to the exit of your bathroom that attached to your bedroom. He smiles into the kiss deciding to pick you up and carry you the rest of the way. He lays you down taking his shirt off before he crawls up on her kissing her.

“Are you sure you want this? Once I start I-I don’t know if i can stop” Jacob stumbles on his words as he look down in your eyes.

“ Yes i’m sure, just be gentle with me please..”You reply, his eye soften up as he watches you. He kiss you again being gentle like you asked him to be.

“ Ill always be gentle for you my love” Jacob says kissing you, his lips traveling down your jaw to your neck. It his favorite part of your body, your neck. Just something about the way you giggle when he kisses your sweet spot melts his heart. He runs his hand up the sides of you body he sits up and so do you. He pulls your shirt up and off of you. He smiles admiring your upper body.

“You beautiful so beautiful..” He whispers more to himself than to you. Smiling you reach behind yourself to take your bra off.

“ I want you Jacob... All of you” You tell him getting enough courage to push him down on his back. You get up straddling his lap kissing him like your life depends on it. His hands go to your hips as you continue your make out session. Your hips rock against his growing bulge. It causes you to giggle the more and more you feel him getting harder.

“ Don’t tease me... It’s like torture when you do.” He says

“ Well lets hurry this up” You joke with him you sit up more so you can shimmy off your bottoms of your PJ shorts.

“Slow down wild cat. I want to make this special for you... Sense you know its your first time.” Jacob says watching as you undress yourself. He’s slowly losing control though... But he reminds himself about how it is about you and not him.

After some more foreplay your in missionary position. Hes gazing into your eyes hand caressing his face.

“ Its going to hurt at first okay.. But soon it wont hurt anymore, and hopefully I can even make it pleasurable for you” Jacob says as he starts prepping your face with kisses. As he is doing this he is slowly pushing into you. His girth stretching you out like you’ve never been before. This pain causes you to bite your lip in an attempt to muffle your moans

“ No one told me you would be so big..” you moaned as your nails dug into his shoulders. He was all the way in now, you could feel him in your stomach.

“And no one told me you would be so tight” he grunted out into your neck as he pulled out and went right back in. After about five good thrusts the pain started to fade away and it got pleasurable. Pleasurable enough you started to moan out his name as his hips rocked into you.

“I love you so much” He tells you as he moves his lips up to kiss you.

“Don’t stop, god your making me feel so good” You tell him as he picks his pace up. The feeling in your stomach starts to grow stronger as you are approaching your climax.

“Don’t hold back baby... I’m close too” Jacob tells you as his lips connect to your. He picks up one of your legs as he starts to pound his way into you. You moan again your back arching as you cling onto Jacob.

Before you know it though your orgasm hits you. It rocks threw your body as soon after your realize you feel him cum too. Jacobs pulling out after a few seconds. His breathing heavy as he turns his head to look at you. You look at him too smiling as you roll to your side to cuddle into his side. Sleep slowly taken over you as you enjoy his warmth and the sweet nothings he is whispering to you.

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If you wanted to be added to my tag list just send in an ask and ill add you.

#twilight #wolf pack twilight #jacob black #jacob black imagine #jacob black one shot #jacob black fluff #Jacob black smut

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Snowdrifts ch.4 (spicyhoney)

Summary: It's Edge's first day as a stay-at-home child caregiver. It'll be fine, he has a plan! How much trouble can one little baby be?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

“All right, child, we need to come to an understanding,” Edge said firmly, hands on his hips. He was standing over Snow, who was in her highchair, sucking vigorously on her fingers and looking up at him with wide eye lights. They were alone in the Swap brothers’ kitchen in the late morning, all the others having consumed breakfast and gone off to the respective jobs or job searches as the case may be. Blue made a hearty breakfast of eggs and sausages, and if grape jelly wasn’t Edge’s preferred seasoning for sunny side up yolks, he certainly wasn’t about to start his tenure here by complaining about the food.

Tomorrow he would get up earlier to make breakfast, Edge told himself. He’d been here for two nights now, he needed to begin adjusting to his new sleep schedule and stop lying about in bed. Today he would be implementing some changes and as former Captain of the Snowdin guard, it was up to him to maintain order. He could do this and now was the time to begin.

“Today I start on my duties as your caretaker and also homemaker,” Edge announced to his audience of one. “I am going to wash the breakfast dishes now. You,” he pointed a finger at Snow and she tried to focus on the sharpened tip, her large eye lights crossing, “will remain there until I am finished. You have your cereal and toys, keep yourself busy and I will be finished soon."

With that, Edge gave her a last nod and turned towards the sink. Before he could even stick his hands into the soapy water, Snow let out a wail.

He hunched down as if struck by a blow and turned back towards her. “No,” he said sternly. “I can’t carry you all day, I have chores to do. You have food and toys, you can entertain yourself.”

Unfortunately, Snow was not at all receptive to his perfectly sound reasoning. Large tears were rolling down her plump cheekbones and she batted away the little bowl of cereal. It fell off the tray to the floor, scattering tiny ‘o’s across the linoleum. Both her upraised arms reached for him as she bawled loudly and Edge, who once walked home on a broken ankle without so much as limping to keep the weakness concealed, folded like a paper sack in a rainstorm.

He pulled the tray loose, scattering more cereal bits, and swept her into his arms, patting her back as he crooned, “All right, shhhh, it’s all right, little one. It’s all right.”

The tears dried up with suspicious ease and soon Snow was chortling happily again. Any move towards putting her in the chair made those joyful sounds melt away and Edge was forced to settle her into his lap as he sat on the floor to clean up the newest mess. Between the two of them, they picked up most of the fallen cereal with entirely too much of it ending up in Snow’s mouth before he could stop her.

“I suppose we should be grateful Blue keeps his floor clean,” Edge sighed.

“Brzzt,” Snow replied as she chewed happily on another filched floor treat.

It became an endless cycle. He would attempt to set her down, the child would cry, and Edge would cave and quickly pick her back up. The dishes sat in the sink untouched, the dregs of jelly and eggs drying into crusts while Edge could do nothing to prevent it.

It was hours later when Snow finally started drooping, her little sockets growing heavy. Edge sat with her in the recliner and rocked her to sleep, and then with the same care one might use while handling a volatile soufflé, Edge eased her into her little pillow pile and sighed in relief. If she kept true to her schedule, she’d sleep for at least an hour and that would give him enough time to wash the dishes, perhaps fold yesterday’s laundry and—

The front door flew open hard enough to crash into the other wall as Stretch came in, dusted with snow and his cheekbones flushed bright orange from the cold as he sang out, “lunchtime! what’s shakin’, bacon, got anything cookin’, good lookin’?””

He’d barely finished his verbal abuse of pork products and cookery before Snow began to wail.

“I just got her to sleep! Why would you—!“ Edge realized he was wailing at nearly the same volume as the baby and shut his mouth with a hard click, gritting his teeth until he tasted dust.

“whoopsie, sorry, sugar butt!” Stretch only laughed and Edge reminded himself that dusting was not considered a suitable punishment in Underswap, even for a crime so heinous as this one. Stretch kicked off his shoes and walked over to scoop her up, snuggling her until her cries dimmed down into tired hiccoughs. “didn’t mean to bust in on naptime.” He cocked a brow bone at Edge, who only slumped down and glared back. “must’ve been a rough morning sitting on the sofa the whole time, huh? lazing around ain’t exactly your modus operandi.”

“Lazing!” Edge sputtered. He shot to his feet and managed to lower his voice just in time as Stretch hissed a warning. “I have not been sitting on the sofa! I have been trying to get some housework done, but Snow keeps crying if I’m not holding her! I’ve yet to do the morning dishes, there’s laundry waiting to be folded. I’d planned to make lunch for you all and all I have to offer is you floor cereal!” He took a deep breath, ashamed of how close it sounded to a sob and swung away from Stretch, facing the wall and admitting to the blank drywall, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“woah, hang on,” Stretch said behind him. “pull back on the reins for a sec. edge, this is your first day at this, okay? bet you didn’t learn all your puzzles in one day.”

“Puzzles are complex tools that take weeks of planning, she is one child!”

“kids are plenty complex, edgelord, until you figure out how they work.” He sidled up next to Edge and slung an arm around his shoulders, giving him a gentle shake. “you know, letting her cry a bit isn’t gonna hurt her. if she’s clean and fed, she can take sitting on the floor for a little while.”

“No,” Edge said decisively. “I will not allow her to think her cries are going unheard, she’s not sobbing into a void in my presence.” When he turned to look at Stretch, he saw the other skeleton was giving him a strange little smile. “What?”

He only shook his head, sighing out, “oh, you got it bad already.”

“Got it? Got what, I can’t be sick,” Edge said, and already panic was starting to swell. “If I’m sick, I’ve been holding the baby all day, she could be ill as well!”

“nah, edgelord, calm down,” Stretch chuckled, “it ain’t contagious, well, not like that, and even if it was, it wouldn’t hurt anybody.” That crooked little smile widened. “think we’re all developing a serious case of superfluous adoptive parentalitis.”

It took entirely too long for Edge’s weary mind to puzzle that out and when he did, he could only sigh in exasperation. “You aren’t helping.”

“never said i was, but don’t you worry, edgelord, i got tricks up my sleeves that amateur houdinis only wish they knew. hang on.”

He went into the other room, still cradling the drowsy baby, and came back with Edge’s scarf, embarrassingly wrinkled from its overstay in the dryer. Edge watched in confusion as Stretch knotted the ends together, then tied it across Edge’s chest into a sort of sling.

“okay, snowflake, in we go.” Deftly, he slipped the baby into the scarf before Edge could protest. He nearly panicked, expecting the baby to come crashing out to the floor. Instead, her little bottom settled snugly into the pocket it created, her short legs spread on either side of his ribcage. She snuggled in contently, yawning widely as she cuddled in against his sternum, and drifted almost immediately to sleep.

“see?” Stretch said softly. “she doesn’t want your arms, she only wants to be close, and now your hands are free. well, kinda, she’ll probably keep ‘em pretty full one way or another.” He smiled wryly, tucking his own hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “i’d tell you to let the housework go, but i’m pretty sure i’d be wasting my breath.”

“Other houseparents manage,” Edge said, firmly, “I will, too!”

“oh yeah?” Stretch countered, “other houseparents manage with no help at all, huh. how many other houseparents do you know?”

“I know enough.”

Stretch crossed his arms over his chest. “name three.”

Edge floundered, unprepared for the sudden quiz, “Um...the Cleavers, the Cunninghams—"

“from tv doesn’t count.”

Years of experience taught Edge when it was time to abandon a strategy. “That doesn’t matter. Other households don’t matter. I will manage this!”

“uh huh.” Edge was too startled to flinch when Stretch reached up and gently took hold of his face with both hands, his slim fingers still chilly from the cold outdoors. “remember what i said about not slapping away any helping hands.”

“You did help,” Edge admitted grudgingly. He tugged the scarf a little more securely around Snow. The baby didn’t stir, only slept on peacefully. “This was a good idea.”

“gonna help more, too,” Stretch said cheerily, dropping his hands and pitching his voice low, “you head over to the breakfast dishes and i’ll get lunch on track, yeah?”

“But—”

“i didn’t starve before you got here, edgelord, i can make sandwiches.”

It was the truth, Edge knew it was, and yet it still didn’t sit well. The bargain was that he would stay home instead of earning G, he should be able to do this, how could one tiny baby take up so much time and energy…that thought was abruptly derailed and Edge nearly jumped out of his clothes as Stretch gave him a little slap on the backside before strolling towards the kitchen. Retaliation wasn’t possible while he was holding the child, but Edge made a mental note to add this transgression to his tally as he followed after him.

The urge for any revenge reluctantly vanished when Stretch suddenly swung around and leaned in to drop a soft kiss on top of Snow’s skull. It was enough of a distraction that he couldn’t react when that quick kiss was transferred to his own mouth. Stretch didn’t linger to watch Edge gape at him, only headed to the refrigerator and began scrounging through it, leaning in to survey the contents.

“hmm, we got some leftover chicken, how about some chicken salad—eep!” Stretch whirled around on a yelp, rubbing his backside as he stared in disbelief at Edge, who was already making his way to the sink and the dishes.

“What was that?” Edge asked coolly. “Something about playing chicken?”

That sudden grin should have been worrisome, but Edge only felt a trill of anticipation as Stretch said with dark, deep intent, “oh, don’t you worry, honey, i can play. but first, lunch.”

Yes, lunch, that was in order. As Edge washed the dishes, the baby sleeping warmly against his chest and the plates clinking softly in the soapy water, he considered what sort of games Stretch might have in mind. Once he got a handle on this parenting strategy, he might switch his focus to the puzzle of Stretch. It would have to wait, for now, because when he began, Edge was certain it was a mystery that would require his full attention.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #drifters

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the-hidden-writer · 4 years

Text

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that leads up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Chapter 5: Permission

Leo Fitz loved football. It was his thing. He used to play in the local field with a bunch of other boys when he was little- that’s before he started to spend every free hour of every day engineering. So about eleven years old then. And since they’d retired he’d taken a huge step back from engineering and fallen back with his first love. Seriously, if anyone asked him a simple question about football he would probably ramble about it for at least two hours.

“Knock knock!”

Oh, and another thing about football: he did not like getting interrupted.

He adjusted his position to sit up on the sofa. “If that’s anyone that’s not called Owen then come in!”

Of course, it was Owen who entered.

“Hi Mr Fitz-Simmons.” He greeted, somewhat meekly.

Fitz didn’t respond.

“Oh hey, you’re watching soccer. Can I join you?”

“Not if you call it soccer.” Fitz grumbled. Owen just laughed and sat next to him anyway.

If there was one thing that Fitz had learnt about Owen over the year of him dating Alya, it was that he could not shut up. And that was not an exaggeration. Fitz was pretty convinced that if the man went five minutes without saying something then he would quite possibly explode.

So it was unnerving to say the least when all he did was fidget next to him. He appeared to be concentrating on the screen, but when Fitz looked closely he could see that his eyes weren’t entirely focused.

He must’ve been deep in thought. Fitz didn’t even want to consider what the hell he was thinking about.

“So… you a big s- football guy then?” Owen asked eventually, making Fitz actually sigh in relief.

“Yes.” Was his short reply.

“Cool.”

Uncomfortable silence. Fitz felt like the other man was plotting something. He did not like it.

Owen took a deep breath. “Hey-”

“You do know I don’t like you, right?”

Letting out a choked sort of laugh, Owen hung his head and said quietly: “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’ve got no common sense,” Fitz continued, “and half the time I genuinely can’t tell if you’re faking your stupidity or not.

And I can never forgive you for taking my daughter away from me, Fitz doesn’t add.

“Look, I know you hate me.” Owen said, his voice still strangely quieter than usual.

It suddenly occurred to Fitz that Owen might be unwell. And even he, a cold-hearted miser according to Alya once, would feel guilty for insulting someone when they’re ill.

“Hate’s a strong word.” He told him. “I don’t hate you lad, but I think it would be crueler to lie and pretend to like you like Jemma does.”

Owen seemed to react at this, and Fitz wondered if he was really so dumb as to not realise that Jemma didn’t like him either.

“She doesn’t?” He asked, confirming Fitz’s theory.

And there was that guilty feeling again. “Well she definitely likes you more than I do. We love Alya with everything we have, and we only want the best for her. And whatever she says, I for one couldn’t care less if my daughter doesn’t end up with you. Now don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

Fitz realised a little too late that he’d phrased that wrong, and for once he actually hoped that Owen wouldn’t pick up on the subtext.

“I love her too, y’know.” Owen said dejectedly. “And I came here to ask you something. But I’m a little put off now if I’m honest…”

On-screen, it was half-time. Fitz tried to relay the fact that Owen was ill over and over in his head to stop himself from punching him.

“If answering your question will make you go away, then sure. Ask away.” He said, taking a sip of his tea.

Owen took a deep breath and looked Fitz in the eyes. Fitz noticed for the first time just how bright, green, and honest they were.

“Will you give me your blessing to marry your daughter?”

He did not do a spit take. That never happened. But it was funny, for a second Fitz could have sworn Owen just said…

“What?”

“You heard me.” Owen said, and suddenly Fitz realised why Owen had sounded off.

He’d been nervous- no, terrified of him. This entire time he’d been trying to muster as much confidence as he could. And the fact that he’d been scared meant that he respected him.

And Fitz didn’t know how to feel. He felt like he’d just been shot in the heart but the pain hadn’t registered yet.

He coughed. “W-Well, you’ve got nerve, I’ll tell you that.” He did not wipe the liquid off his chin, because he did not do a spit take. “After I just told you how much I don’t like you.”

Owen laughed, a bit more menacing this time. “I hope you know that I’ll propose to her whatever you say. It’s just that you three are so close that I thought I’d ask for your blessing.”

The implications started to sink in. “Wait, you’re being serious?”

This man, this hooligan, was asking to marry his little monkey. His princess. His universe. His Alya. The girl whose nappies he changed. The girl to whom he showed the stars. The girl who he tried to teach engineering to, but ended up taking after her mother and studying biology and becoming one of the leading experts in marine biology and was running an entire initiative to save the oceans.

The woman that had just turned thirty.

Ever since Owen, Alya had fought with him a lot more frequently. She would always defend him, telling her father that it was his fault that he didn’t just give him a chance to get to know him. Fitz didn’t change his stance. And maybe, Fitz thought, if he’d taken that chance, then he would be able to see Alya’s appeal in Owen. Her love for him hadn’t wavered, and any fights she’d had with Owen had all been resolved very quickly. Was it really only Fitz that felt so negatively towards him?

“Hey, um, before you answer let me say something.” Owen said.

“I know I’m reckless and stupid. I get that from my parents. But when I’m standing next to literally the smartest family on the planet, how can I not be? I think you think I’m ‘the worst’ (yes, I heard that) because of that, when in reality I’m just average. I was shocked when Alya loved me back, because she is the definition of a genius, and I’m just… me. I’m Owen. The guy nobody likes.”

Fitz listened on in silence, every word striking him as familiar.

...Deke.

“And I tried so hard to impress you,” Owen continued, “even though you guys already know everything. It’s impossible to impress you. The one thing that impresses me is the fact that Alya still likes me after so long. So yeah, I understand if you say no, but I love your daughter and I’m actually pretty good at fighting so I’m willing to die for her. I’ve been told that I can be pretty selfish, and I agree, but not when it comes to Alya. She’s my everything.”

Wordlessly, Fitz switched off the TV. Football could come later. He didn’t know when his eyes had started to well up, but he knew that his vision was now blurry. He had to swallow the lump in his throat.

“You have my blessing.”

Owen nearly jumped out of his seat. “Wait, really?!”

Fitz’s breathing was shaky, and he held his head in his hands. “Yes.” He said, his voice muffled. “Now go before I change my mind.”

It was comical how quickly Owen raced out of the room.

Jemma walked in moments later.

“Darling what’s wrong? What did you say to Owen this time?”

“I told him to bugger off.” Fitz said, looking up to face his confused wife.

“Really? Is that-”

“Jemma.” He interrupted, his voice breaking. “He asked for my blessing.”

Jemma’s face went through a whirlwind of emotions in a tiny amount of time like a silent movie.

“O-Oh.” She said finally. “Did you..?”

“Yeah.” Said Fitz. “But Jemma, he sounded just like Deke.”

Both of them flinched at the name.

He sighed. “Is it bad that the main thing I remember was that I couldn’t stand him?”

“Yes, it is.” Jemma said, moving to sit next to her husband and rub his back soothingly. She was beginning to get choked up herself. “I remember that he was lovely. His memory is what lets me tolerate Owen.”

She wiped away the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

“I think you need to start at least tolerating him now, too.”

Fitz did the same for his wife.

“Yeah, I guess I’m gonna have to now.”

#agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#aos spoilers #fitzsimmons #fitzsimmons fam #leo fitz #jemma simmons #owen shaw #alya fitzsimmons #deke shaw #fanfic #an odd family tree

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0lshadyl0 · 4 years

Note

Can I request a yandere Aizawa with a fem s/o whose quirk is exchanging her own life to revive someone from death? Reader have been friends with Aizawa since they were kids, they love eachother but never confessed until Aizawa died in battle. Kisses him and finally confesses then- ill let you decide what happens next 😉 I love your works btw gives out like a classy style~

of course sweety, btw I really want to know what kind of classy style I give

No time left, Aizawa Shouta x Reader

warnings: death

word count: 1935

You knew it, that is his end, Aizawa, your childhood friend, which you knew from the moment you were aware, with whom you grew up supporting him at every moment of his life to the point where your heart only started beating for the love you had towards him but that you kept secret since it was dangerous to enter into a relationship with him ... because it was dangerous, especially right now, for this precise reason

Shouta had been following in the footsteps of a dangerous organization that worked under government support to do the dirty work of them, creating massacres, disappearing people, among other horrible crimes that ended in the death of many, heroes, villains and civilians, all equally

Recently Eraserhead discovered that this organization called "the elite legion" had begun to arrive in Japan to commit its heinous criminal acts, he knew he should do something to prevent it

He thought to inform the authorities as to other heroes, but the government of Japan refused to help and forbid the heroes to act against this group, after all, they had special permission to act in the country, that permission it covered any kind of attacks, disasters, kidnappings, hacks, and even murders

Although the truth was that the elite legion had solved the problem of a dangerous international terrorist group acting in the country and as the government had signed agreements with them the legion could do whatever they wanted in the country, of course, in exchange they should help with all the dirty problems that the government had

And although Eraserhead didn't like at all that they could do what they wanted while they were passed by the law, he couldn't help but look away helplessly while taking refuge from his frustration in your arms, you were his only peace at that moment and in those moments when you two were together, curled up in the armchair while he was lost in his thoughts, you had to endure to not telling him how much you love him, after all, it was not the moment, although the truth If you started thinking a little, you had never found the moment and you had the feeling that you had no time left

The murders were more constant, thousands of lives were lost with each passing week and although there was more security on the streets, of course, everyone was afraid of being the next victim of the elite legion or as civilians believed, villains, people were more cautious about following the law

But when babies, children, teenagers and people with special, powerful or unstable quirks disappeared for the elite legion to wash their brains, train them and finally add them to their ranks of mercenary murderers, Eraserhead decided that it was enough, especially, for that the elite also decided to kidnap you, the most important woman in his life and that was something he was not going to let happen

You had a special ability that captured the interest of the elite legion after all your quirk allowed you to exchange your health for someone else's, scratches, cuts, bruises, serious injuries and ultimately, your own life for another

For that reason, they tried to take you and Eraserhead tried to stop him, but, amid his worry and fear of failing his goal and losing you forever he didn't think logically in that battle Nor do I take into account that all those who were in the elite legion were people with quirks prodigies, with special training and little moral enough to kill whoever hinders in their mission

For that reason it didn't take them long to neutralize Shouta, after all, they were ten of the legion fully prepared to counter the hero, as if that wasn't enough, four of them were quirkless and armed with guns in if he erased his teammates' quirks, which he did, neglecting the four without quirk who took the opportunity to shoot the hero multiple times

This is how Aizawa ended up with more than ninety shots in his body, his lifeless corpse collapsed strongly on the ground accompanied by your agonized screams for losing your beloved without confessing your feelings while the elite legion laughed out loud because the situation seemed fun to themAt that moment the leader of the group and the one that held you tightly, received a message, her smile disappeared so her face showed discomfort, she immediately released you and you quickly ran towards Aizawa's body, you knew what to do and you should do it fast before the elite legion prevented you from saving his life

One of them, the one with blue skin and three meters high, tried to prevent your task, but the leader prevented it, he saw her in the eyes looking for an answer to why she stopped him" she will use her quirk, if she dies we will have failed," said the big man

"New orders" was all the leader replied "we don't need her alive anymore" she whispered with some annoyance since the previous order specified that you were alive, well, she didn't care if you were alive or dead, she just wanted to finish her mission

"What do you mean by that?" The elite legion gathered around the leader to find out what the message was sayingIn the meantime you took advantage of the fact that they didn't pay attention to you to make the greatest sacrifice of love that someone can make for someone else, to give your life in exchange for that of your dear ShoutaYou activated your quirk and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips where you transmitted all your feelings at the same time that your life to him, little by little, the bullets left his body and his wounds healed while your own body was filled with holes and a terrible pain was beginning to consume you to the maximum point where your nervous system was already disconnected from your brain to not suffer more

Shouta slowly opened his eyes, when he could stop seeing blurry he saw your beautiful face adorned with a sweet smile from which a little blood came out, that made him aware and tried to hold him close to him, Aizawa was scared, you looked terribly slaughtered and although he didn't want to admit it, you didn't look like you were going to survive"But what happened!?, How could they do this to you ... it was not supposed ... quiet, everything will be fine, just resist a little" he was scared and for the first time in a long time his mind was blank, he had no idea what to do and time was not in his favor

"Shouta... I am very sorry not to tell you this... before" everything around you began to look black, your quirk took effect, there was no time left to live, this was your end "No, please no, give me more time, you'll be fine, I promise, just resist" he didn't want you to say goodbye, he didn't want to lose you, they had spent a lot of time together, you were too important in his life, you couldn't go, just like that, without him being able to do something to prevent your inevitable death, he understood that he was the one who was going to die but somehow it was you who had all the wounds, it was you who were dying right now

"I love you Shouta ..." was the last thing you said before you took your last breath, but you had done happily because you knew he would continue to be alive, you had the hope that he would continue to be a great hero saving many people and with luck, he would end the elite legionHe wanted to answer that he loved you too, but it was no use telling him to an inert body, yet he cried inconsolably as he hugged you and your blood stained his clothes, he regretted not telling you before how much he loved you and the fact of that he wanted to be with you, be your hero, be your boyfriend, your husband, the father of the future children that together would never have now, and grow old with you until death separated you two, he had many plans with you and now none was going to be fulfilled

Suddenly he heard some sobs from afar and saw a member of the legion crying while he was comforted by two of his companions and their leader, at that moment he remembered that he was still in danger, but he didn't care anymore, he didn't I wanted to fight or live in that moment"I'm sorry, I got a little excited, I'm sensitive to love scenes," said the young mercenary who was not over 17 years old, short, with effeminate body to be a man, and black hair with green at the end of his hair

"It was a truly beautiful scene, the drama, the feelings and the declaration of love was moving," said the leader, a young woman with brown hair and three eyes who was wiping tears from her weeping partner "but we did not come to see dramas, we are here for the now dead body ”he smiled cynically as he gave the order to attack" she is going to be the food of one of our members "

"You will have to pass over me before putting your dirty hands on Y/n" he prepared to defend you, he did not want to live, not in a world where you were not by his side, he had already lost someone before and now he had lost you, which was even worse because you were the love of his life, but he would not let those who killed you take your body, much less to be the food of some disgusting being of the legion of the elite

"Do not worry, we will make sure that you meet your beloved very soon, after all, we have orders to disappear you for conspiring against us even though everything we do is legal," said another legion member

“What a waste" said the blue man looking at you body "she gave her life to return yours and in the end, you will die anyway, she would have lasted longer with me, although of course, with some bruises, hickeys, and wounds, Y/n is a very nice name, perfect for her, she was very beautiful, with a nice sexy body, don't you think the same Eraserhead? ”said the blue man as he ran his tongue over his lips, making Aizawa understand what the mercenary would have done to you if he had the opportunity, this angered Aizawa in such a way that I only thought is to destroy all of that group and especially the blue subject

Again they engaged in another fight, this battle lasted a little longer than the previous one and although the hero gave his best, he was again outnumbered, and they played dirty by trying to attack your body so that he couldn't take care of himself cuz he was trying to protect what was left of you

In the end, the hero Eraserhead was never seen again, nor his closest friends and the other heroes who sought him got a clue of him, after all, it is very difficult to find one of the secret bases of the legion, where his the body and that of his beloved became food for one of the most dangerous members

#bnha #bnha scenarios #aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #shady safe

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slytherin-puffskein · 5 years

Text

First of, thank you so much ! I’m glad that you love Barnalau, and seeing how much you guys love this pairing only motivates me to write more !

As for the prompt, I decided to go with number 12, aka “Where did those bruises come from ?”. Hopefully, you will enjoy it !

Warnings: Angst. Like, a lot. As well as mentions of abuse.

“Where did those bruises come from... ?”

Barnaby’s voice definitely has a worried tone, and that makes Lau immediately want to wince. That was exactly what he didn’t want: for Barnaby to worry over him. He swiftly moves away from his friend, smiling at him... but there is one thing to know about Laurent Dorian King: whenever he smiles, his eyes light up. They look as if they inhabit a thousand tiny fireworks, and it is the most beautiful sight... at least, to Barnaby, and a few students who secretly crush on him. This time, however, those fireworks aren’t present, and Barnaby could immediately figure out that this smile was fake.

“It’s nothing, Barny. Don’t you worry” Lau replied, still smiling. “Let’s say Mr.Whiskers wasn’t really kind to me this morning...”

Barnaby couldn’t help but frown. That... didn’t make any sense. How can a small cat give bruises that big !? They usually scratch people, no ? And Barnaby already saw how Lau’s arms would look like following an attack from that cat... whatever was on his arms right now, wasn’t from Mr.Whiskers. He took a step forward, as if to inspect his friend’s arms... but Lau huffed, moving away once again. Now, he was starting to regret the decision to not wear a thick sweater. Can’t he just walk around in a short sleeved shirt without getting any attention !? Man, they were only three days into the new school year, and Lau was already tired. He bit on his lip, playing with his badly done tie.

“Barnaby” he said in a stern voice. “I’m telling you, I’m fine. Now can you please leave me alone ?”

Ouch. That hurt. Lau could be just like fire sometimes: if you approach it too much, you get burned. Now, Barnaby definitely got burned, and he saw that it was useless to insist. He simply nodded, unsure.

“O... Okay...”

With that, Lau gave Barnaby a curt nod, and walked away. After all, classes were over for the rest of the morning, and the redhead had only one wish: being left alone.

* * *

Thank god, the dorm was empty. Rowan was probably studying, and as for the other Slytherins sharing it... well, they were visibly elsewhere, and that was just fine for Lau. Sighing heavily, he dropped his bag next to his bed, trying to forget his conversation with

( Where did those bruises come from... ? )

Barnaby. It’s not like he can tell him, right ? Lau was well aware that Barnaby had his own problems: abusive parents, downright terrible dad... he didn’t want to add to Barnaby’s list of worries. That was the last thing he wanted, frankly... so he had to deal with this on his own. He stepped in front of the mirror next to Rowan’s bed, and stared at his reflection. Ah, time changes... he can still remember his eleven year old self staring into this exact same mirror, and he recalls how terrified he was. After all, he was a Muggleborn. What if he wasn’t good enough for Hogwarts ? What if Dumbledore kicks him out ?

But despite all of these feelings, a stronger one would dominate them. The most powerful sensation ever.

Excitement.

He was thrilled to be part of Hogwarts, and to soon study about magic. His eyes were basically filled with sparkles.

But now, Lau was seeing in the mirror an entirely different boy. An older, tired boy, who wasn’t sure of what to do anymore. He slowly undid his tie and let it fall to the floor, then unbuttoned his shirt. It slid past his bony shoulders, then he took it off, revealing his body.

Thank god he was too poor to afford clothing his size and had to wear Stefen’s hand me downs. If he were to wear clothes his actual size... Barnaby would have had one more thing to worry about: how terribly skinny he was. Skin sticking to the bone, with little to no muscle, a huge contrast to the healthy young boy he was last year. And the bruises. Oh god, the bruises. They were everywhere.

( you deserve them )

He stared at his reflection, hugging himself, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He picked up his shirt and slid it back on, as well as his tie. He closed his eyes, trying to block all of the memories

( it’s your fault ! your fault ! )

coming back. He slowly headed to his bed. He needed a nap...

* * *

Laurent King never liked following rules.

So of course, he had to break them. As a crescent moon was slowly rising in the sky, the Slytherin quietly made his way out of the Common Room, walking on the tip of his toes. Luckily, he was fairly sneaky, and in only a few minutes he was at the Clocktower Courtyard, sitting on the edge of the fountain and admiring the sky and it’s stars. At least, the stars were here for him... the sky always follows you, no matter what. He closes his eyes as a soft breeze caresses his face, and he feels peaceful for a

( you will never be strong enough )

moment. Suddenly, though, he heard something. Footsteps. And as he turned around he saw none other than Barnaby Lee, in his pyjamas. Grey sweatpants, and a white tank top, showing off his muscly arms... they had their fair share of bruises too, however. Living with Mr.Lee wasn’t easy... Lau felt his chest tighten as he thought of that.

“B-Barnaby ? What are you doing here ?”

“I... I could ask you the same”

He looked wary, as if he was afraid that Lau might push him away like he did this morning... but he didn’t. Instead, he slowly stood up and stepped closer to his friend.

“I... needed fresh air” he confessed.

He was still wearing that shirt from earlier, and his bruised arms were in full display... something that Barnaby hated. If only he could take them away... if only he could have them instead.

“Me too” Barnaby said. “Or well... I was mostly looking for you... I know you often sneak out at night, so I figured...”

Barnaby Lee might forget a lot of things, but he never forgets anything about Laurent. Lau couldn’t hold back a smile. Once again, Barnaby was too caring... and it made his knees weak.

“Sometimes, I wonder what I did for you to be this caring...”

Barnaby could only smile, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“The only thing you did was being you. That was enough for me”

The words came out without him being really aware of it. Lau couldn’t help but blush, and he found himself extremely grateful that it was dark.

Without a word, Lau took Barnaby’s hand, and he guided him to the fountain. Barnaby could only hear the water gently lap against the edges as Lau removed his shirt, revealing his bruises. All of them.

“I... suppose you deserve to know...” he whispered. “You’re my best friend, after all”

That last sentence left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The air was cold. He hugged himself, trying to get some warmth.

“You know how my mom died from an illness... and how my dad isn’t a fan of how... how I am”

A sweet, nice boy who loves flowers. Barnaby couldn’t do anything but nod, but he feared he already knew where this is going. Lau kept staring at his feet, refusing to meet Barnaby’s worried gaze. Should he even keep going ? For a moment, he hesitated... but he decided to keep talking.

“With Stefen gone, he’s under a lot of pressure, and... and I guess he snapped this summer”

And he explained everything. How his father would blame him for his wife’s death, because as a kid Lau demanded too much attention. How Lau would scream and try to shield himself when his father would try and hit him, how starved he felt when Mr.King refused to serve him meals... and refused to let him cook some. As he talked about it, waves and waves of memories crashed through him, and he felt weak. A tear rolled down his cheek, and he hated it. He hated looking weak.

Basically, Charles King finally had his revenge on his son. Or well, he liked to see it as a revenge.

Laurent didn’t dare to look at Barnaby’s face, but if he did, he would have seen the pure shock and anger on his features. He was enraged, he felt disgusted at the idea that someone did this to his Lau... and he could only find one solution.

Wrap him into the tightest hug he could manage, burying his face in the crook of his neck and gently caressing his back. As this happened, Lau finally decided to cry, and he hugged Barnaby back.

“I was so scared... but I also felt like... I deserved it, you know ?” he whispered, trying to hold back sobs. “I mean, with Stefen gone, I’m the only son he has left... and I wasn’t living up to his expectations, and-”

“No” Barnaby immediately interrupted him.

He pulled away and grabbed Lau’s shoulders gently, making him look at him. For a moment, Lau feared he made a mistake. What if Barnaby reacts too badly ?

“You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of this. Your dad... he’s not allowed to do this to you ! He can’t !”

As he spoke, he pulled Lau back into a hug, petting his soft hair.

“You don’t deserve it... you don’t” he whispered. “You’re safe now. You’re in Hogwarts. You’re with me. I’ll protect you”

“I can protect myself” Lau replied.

His voice was sort of muffled, though, since his face was buried in Barnaby’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. The Slytherin smiled. Indeed, Lau can protect himself. He could kick every single Hogwarts student’s ass if he wanted to.

“I know you can, Lau... but let me do it anyway”

Silence.

Then Lau nodded. Barnaby hugged him tighter.

“Now let me bring you back to your dorm”

“Your dorm” Lau suddenly said.

He raised his head, looking at Barnaby. He was now bright red, almost the same colour as his hair.

“I... wanna sleep by your side. Please”

He won’t be able to handle another night alone. He needed Barnaby by his side.

And gently, Barnaby picked him up, carrying him as if he was a princess. Lau didn’t bother to protest, because he actually liked it. He pressed his face in the crook of Barnaby’s neck, smelling his honeysuckle scent... and he let Barnaby carry him.

( I love you )

Neither of them, however, dares to say it.

#lau king #barnaby lee #barnalau #barnaby x mc

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willow-of-hingashi · 5 years

Text

A New Town’s Light [RP]

(( Rating: PG ))

(( Genre: Slice of Life, Drama ))

(( Cast: Kikyo Hagane of @the-firetouched and Nobuyuki ‘Ichihiko’ Ienaka ))

Maple leafs rustled in the wind outside, pitter-pattering as they landed delicately upon the stone pathway. The sleeves of Nobuyuki's layered kimono were folded over his hands as he moved towards the entrance to the onsen, mail in tow. He shifted through it as he slipped off his zori in the genkan entrance, stopping in his tracks when he found one observed one scroll-holder that stood out. It wasn't unusual that he received the occasional scroll from the Far East, but this one bore the Ichimitsu Okiya's kamon; a stylized paper lantern inside a circle.

With tabi-covered feet, Nobuyuki shuffled into the ryokan's main foyer, halting when he opened the scroll to read over it. He only got halfway before he want to summon the resident shikomi. "Kikyo," he called as he rounded the corner where the door to her working quarters sat. ["Stop what you're doing for a while. I have a message here from the otou-san."] A long pause. ["He wants to speak with you. It's important."]

Kikyo was humming and scrubbing the wood floors before Nobu came around the corner. She sat up at once and, once he spoke in Hingan, she nearly jumped to her feet. Her first instinct is to smile, of course, but that falters as soon as she is given word that she wishes to be...spoken with. Even at a mere 17 summers, she knew that could be troublesome indeed! Or perhaps it is a good thing?

["O-of course, Ichihiko-sensei. What does he want to speak with one such as myself about...?"]

Finally, a small frown. Was she being rejected once again?

Unfurling the scroll on its jikugi, Nobuyuki kept his gaze on the Hingan characters before him. ["It's about your career,"] he replied. ["First, I need to explain some some things to you. Let's go into the ozashiki hall."] Quite expectant of Kikyo to follow, he started to make off.

With her carrying on, Nobuyuki continued. ["You're starting as a shikomi, and then a minarai. Your misedashi is your official debut as a maiko, where you will perform dances and serves clients. The shikomi period normally lasts a year and you spend a moon as a minarai. Your nameday changes things a bit, but. . ."] He drew a short breath. ["The otou-san wants you to start as a minarai before your nameday. You'll only spend a moon as a shikomi. There is a reason for this."]

Just before they entered the hall, Nobuyuki paused and turned to Kikyo. ["Do you know the process of who leads an okiya? You understand the need for an heir, right?"]

She quickly tries to store away her cleaning materials before dashing after Nobuyuki, following with her hands folded in front of her all polite and nice like. She tilts her head to his questioning.

["Of course, all great houses need heirs and I am sure okiya are no exception,"] she says brightly. Though it fails to dawn on her the reason for this questioning. ["But I am not sure how okiya decide this, no."]

She watches him carefully as they go. Does Otou-san mean to pick Ichihiko-sensei as his heir? Does that mean their training will be short? She is unsure how to feel! Luckily, she manages not to frown too much.

The shoji door to the ozashiki hall was slid open quietly. Nobuyuki allowed Kikyo to get inside and get comfortable before he continued. ["Well, in truth, Ichimitsu Okiya is not among the largest houses of Igarashi Hanamachi, but the geisha there do have many relations to more prestigious okiya. Masami Okiya and Umecho Okiya have bigger reputations in Nagoya."] The Hyur slid the door shut behind him and moved to take a seat. ["Because of this, finding an atotori is harder. Many geisha left Ichimitsu Okiya and even Masami and Umecho because of the Red Throat outbreak. Only a few among those became jimae geisha, or independent from their okiya."]

Upon one of the cushions, Nobuyuki lowered himself into a seiza. ["The otou-san of Ichimitsu Okiya is Mitsu-no-Ichinori. His surname is based on the okiya's name. It denotes that he was selected as atotori. . . however, that was long ago. The okiya needs another atotori."] His serious gaze landed on Kikyo. ["The otou-san wants to consider you for the next atotori."]

Kikyo listens quietly and with some intensity, as is her way. She slips in past Nobuyuki only after being given express permission via his gesture, and then sat upon a cushion with a seiza of her own. At least that was one thing she was well-practiced in: sitting in the proper way for long chunks of time for meditations. She trains her eyes on Nobu's collar to try and focus hard on what he was saying. And then...when he reaches the end...

She can't help her mouth from popping open in shock. She tries to recover from this quickly, covering it with her small hand.

["M-me? But this one is...I am just..."] She looks to the table and scrambles for a polite way to go about this question. Her fingers tighten against her work shift. ["I do not doubt the wisdom of the Otou-san of Ichimitsu Okiya, of course not. I simply..."] She looks then to Nobu. ["Why are you not considered, sensei, if it is not too rude to ask?"]

The only sign Nobuyuki gave of his reaction to being reminded he wouldn't be chosen was the purse of his lips. Not that he held any ill will towards the okiya father, as they had a cordial relationship. ["Likely the same reason other okiya turned me away,"] was his only answer. He wasn't looking forward to cluing at his heritage. ["It's nothing to worry about."] He gave Kikyo a polite smile. This was despite the clear fact most okiya picked an atotori later in a geisha's career, though it was plausible Kikyo was unaware. ["Ichimitsu Okiya is likely seeking a younger atotori because of the few number of geigi there."]

In a rare display of visible confusion, Nobuyuki's brows furrowed. Why a Koshu-based okiya would consider an ijin was beyond him. Not that he was against it! It was rather his surprise that the otou-san cast aside previous xenophobia. Luckily, Nobuyuki's expression didn't last long. He righted it to content neutrality. ["The otou-san wants to meet you in Kugane,"] he continued. ["As you likely learned, ijin aren't allowed anywhere outside of Kugane in Hingashi. The meeting, he looks to hold at the Shiokaze Hostelry. He's never been to Shishu so he'll likely have an entourage from the okiya with him."] Briefly, Nobuyuki's expression softened. ["Don't take this as a means to be too strict on yourself, alright? Certainly put on your best show, but don't see yourself as unworthy so soon. That's for the otou-san to decide."]

She fidgets with her hair, braiding the ends over and over again in a sight of girlish nervousness and dismay. As soon as she notices this, she squeezes her hands together upon her lap until her knuckles turn white. Well, whiter than they already are...

She has so many questions but knows it is rude to ask. If ijin cannot leave Kugane (a lesson she DID learn the hard way), how would she ever run an Okiya? Why did she interest the Otou-san? Why did other Okiya turn Nobu away? Her young mind is awash with curiosity, but she's long since learned the dangers of it. So she nods. Even so, she cannot help but notice some of Nobu's own confusion and perhaps...dismay? No? Was she imagining it? She frowns in turn.

["Of course, Ichihiko-sensei."] And after a moment, she can't help but add: ["My success will be your success, too. You will be teaching me. And in Doma, there is no greater honor one can bring but to bring success to those that reached their hand toward you."] A bit of an awkward phrasing in the Hingan dialect, but hopefully the point came across nonetheless. ["Maybe we will surprise everyone!"] she adds, in a more characteristic display of optimism!

Nobuyuki looked to Kikyo and gave a smile that reached his eyes. ["I am, of course, honored to be able to teach the possible atotori of Ichimitsu Okiya,"] he declared. ["Nonetheless, I'm happy to be teaching you in general. It is my pleasure to share the joys of gei with others. If the otou-san permits, I could be selected as your older brother. For a maiko, a relationship to her assigned older sibling is one that lasts forever. She does not stop seeking guidance from her older sibling, even when she becomes a geisha. Is it not exciting?"]

Firmly, Nobuyuki bowed his head in agreement. ["I have no doubts we will certainly surprise a number of those within the okiya. For my erikae, instead of kurosode, I wore a white kosode with embroidered hydrangeas. I wanted to be fashionable, to emanate the styles the tayuu were wearing that summer. I think it did surprise a number that attended, to sway away from such tradition. It is likely your chance to do the same. You'd be the okiya's first ijin maiko and their first ijin atotori, above all else."]

She listens dutifully, though her face brightens further as she sees him smile for real. She clasps her hands together before her chest. ["Oh, truly? An older brother? I have had only younger brothers all my life! I would be so excited for this! Yes!"] Her excitement can be heard in how her words become a little more sloppy in the Hingan dialect. Her eyes sparkle. Wow! The potential!

At the talk of clothes, she turns thoughtful. She did not have a lot of opinions or knowledge about fashion, other than finding the dresses of the geisha so beautiful and refined. ["That does sound most elegant,"] she says in agreement. ["I love many flowers. I love peach blossoms most of all...I know that geisha uphold the traditions of Hingashi. But many things are changing in the world, yes?"] A surprisingly insightful bit from the young woman, if a bit obvious to any learned person. ["There must be a way to be traditional and accepting of the future..."]

["Perhaps this is what the otou-san is looking for,"] Nobuyuki commented, his hands folding in his lap. ["Someone new, full of bright ideas for the okiya. Yes, I can see that."] He looked down to the scroll for a moment before rolling it up. ["We'll be meeting with the otou-san in a moon. As the one responsible for your training, I will cover our boat tickets across the Sirensong Sea. After the meeting, your shikomi period will come to an end and you will be minarai until you turn eighteen. You will join me for ozashiki and tea ceremonies, watching how I do things and speaking only when spoken to.]"

Placing the scroll back into the holder, Nobuyuki then tucked the holder up into his kosode sleeve. ["My career started somewhat outside of tradition,"] he replied. ["I was ten, not five, when I started training. It was because of my grandparents' jobs that I didn't enter an okiya at a 'typical' age."] He didn't clarify. It could have been for financial reasons, for all Kikyo knew. ["Now I'm following the newest trends of Hingan fashion and arts. The customs may stay the same, but the ijin have brought a lot of newfangled ideas. Maybe there's a new art form you will practice that others pick up?"]

Many emotions rattle through her at once. Excitement and worry; pride and fear. She nods seriously at the description of what is next to come. ["Of course, Ichihiko-sensei. I will make you proud,"] she says. ["I will be very quiet and refined, as taught!"]

To the rest of it, she tilts her head. She tries to copy his very fancy stance, sitting nicely with his sleeves and hands folded, but her sleeves are purposefully pinned up for cleaning purposes so she does her best, folding her hands in her lap and sitting up a little straighter. For Nobu's sake, her naivety comes in handy; she knows not what to ask about his grandparents' jobs other than perhaps to assume that money was a factor, which she certainly understood. She smiles brightly. ["Oh, like the kupos -- er, moogles! And the beautiful leather riding boots...oh...I do so like those....they seem so elegant...oh, and the paintings! I saw an ijin's painting at the market once...it was um...impressiony?"]

She means impressionist.

["What is your favorite ijin thing?"] she asks curiously, before she can stop herself.

Nobuyuki was used to sitting for long periods with his back straight, his position proper. Even his facial expressions were under control and refined, but the question about his favorite thing of ijin caught him off guard. However, he wasn't offended. In fact, he was pleasantly surprised. ["I might have to think a bit on that one,"] he admitted. ["Perhaps it is the people? Some are brash and loud and very strange, but. . . many are caring and it is very apparent they wear their heart on their sleeve. They are mindful of protecting people's face, even if their own is at risk sometimes. It's a bit endearing."] Namely, a certain Lominsan mercenary came to his mind, her kinky orange hair and freckled visage easy to envision. ["Selecting a thing is hard. . . maybe it's predictable of me, but I quite like foreign fashions. Eorzean cocktail dresses and patterned stockings and heeled boots are very lovely."]

Considerate of his own fashion, Nobuyuki raised a sleeve to his mouth. His kosode was a fall orange colored, decorated with yellow ginkgo leaves and seasonal autumn flowers. Granted, he was largely pulling up his sleeve to conceal his small smile. ["Ah. . . and I think you mean 'impressionist.'"]

#ffxiv rp #the-firetouched #kikyo hagane #nobuyuki ienaka #mateus rp #geisha #ffxiv #[ tales from the okiya ]

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the-lupine-sojourner · 5 years

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Takara’s Hero Academia, Season 2 Episode 2 [Eijiro Kirishima/OC] [Female!Aizawa/Hizashi]

Okay, so here we finally are. I feel like it’s been forever since I updated this story. Sorry!

Anyway, um, I do now have a Patreon, in case anyone wants to actually pay me to write or whatever. Seriously, though, don’t feel pressured to do anything with this. I am just seeing if anything will come out of this.

Moving on, I’ll do the taglist. @elite-guard-hardygal @dailyojiromashirao @souskena and @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 . I apologize for not having this up last night!! I thought I’d be able to sit down and get it done but then I ended up getting sidetracked and then it was midnight and--whoops. I might post what I did instead later. It’s kinda cool! Hardygal knows what it is, lol. XD

Okay, so lemme add the link for this series’ Masterlist!

Okay, now let’s get to the story! :)

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

By the time the final bell rang, I was exhausted.

I yawn and stand, gathering my things up before Eijiro grabs them and slips them into my backpack for me, and I blush a little. He was still distracting me! I thought I was going to try to pull myself together around him! Regardless, I smile.

“Thanks, but you really don’t have to keep doing this kind of thing for me…” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. Eijiro shrugs.

“I want to.” He replies and my blush goes a few shades darker.

“O-oh…” I mumble. “Okay.” Then, Ochaco opens the door.

“Uhh...why the heck are you all here!?” I look up and see the doorway packed with students.

“Do you students have some business with our class?” Tenya asks. No one replies. I shift awkwardly, shrinking back a little into my seat. The spotlight wasn’t something I was used to. If I had to guess, they’re here to scout out the class that’s fought villains...greeeaaaattt.

“Why are you blocking the doorway?” The class pervert asks. “I won’t let you hold us hostage!” I roll my eyes. Like he could do anything about it. Katsuki, backpack over his shoulder, stalks toward the door.

“They’re scouting out the competition, idiots.” He growls. “We’re the class that survived a real villain attack. They wanna see us with their own eyes.” I gulp, standing. If he was leaving, I should, too. I needed to find Mom and Dad, anyway. Eijiro takes my backpack and walks toward the door with me. I smile gratefully at him. “At least know you know what a future pro looks like.” Katsuki continued. I roll my eyes, the smile dropping.

“Katsuki, enough. We’re all striving to be heroes. Technically, that makes us all potential future pros. Stop.” I call, but it doesn’t make a difference.

“Now move it, extras!” Katsuki snaps as the crowd goes quiet.

“Katsuki!” I bark, hobbling over.

“You can’t just go around calling people extras just because you don’t know them!” Tenya interjects, his arms waving wildly in his emotional state. I open my mouth to add my own lecture, but then a voice rings out and I freeze.

“So this is Class 1-A.” It was Hitoshi! “I heard you guys were impressive, but you just seem like an ass.” He was talking to Katsuki as he made his way through the crowd as I crutch over.

“Shinso!” He never liked me calling him ‘Hitoshi’ in public. He smiles briefly at me, nodding subtly, then turns back to Katsuki.

“You know this clown?” Katsuki growls. I glare at him.

“Yeah. We went to middle school together.” It was a reason I know his name, at least. I didn’t need to go further and embarrass Hitoshi.

“I was sad to come here and find a bunch of egomaniacs in her class.” He continues, sighing a little and rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s just how Katsuki is,” I defend, “but seriously. Not all of us are like him.” Katsuki glares at me. Hitoshi closes his eyes.

“I wanted to be in the hero course.” He says to no one in particular...or maybe Katsuki. Or 1-A. I’m not sure. “But, like many others here, I was forced to choose a different track.” I suddenly realize why Shinso was here; part of it might be checking on me, but a larger portion must be him declaring what he intended to do. He wanted to win the Sports Festival or do well enough that he can be moved into the Hero Course, like Mom did when she was in high school. “Such is life.” His eyes narrow at Katsuki, who’s remaining surprisingly calm. “I didn’t cut it the first time around, but I have another chance.” I knew it! “If any of us do well in the Sports Festival, the teachers can decide to transfer us to the Hero Course, and they’ll have to transfer students out to make room.” Oh, no...this was a declaration of war. “‘Scouting the competition’?” Hitoshi asks rhetorically. “Maybe some of my peers are, but I’m here to let you know that if you don’t bring your very best, I’ll steal your spot right out from under you.” Hitoshi tilts his head a little. “Consider this a declaration of war.” I blink.

“Shinso…” I murmur, biting my lip. The rest of the class flinches in shock, but I look at Shinso dead in the eye. Hitoshi was serious, but only glaring at Katsuki, who was glaring back. Was he just acting tough to push himself?

“Hey, you!” Comes a new male voice, and someone else forces their way to the head of the crowd. He had incredibly thick blonde eyelash-looking things around his eyes, with silver hair and a fire in his eyes to match Katsuki’s. Oh, great. Another hothead. “I’m from Class B, right next door to you! We heard you fought some villains and- -oh, shit.” He stops short when he sees my boot and crutch. I sigh and gesture to the boot.

“Yeah, we fought villains.” I reply. “And I got the injuries to prove it.” He takes a step back, then scoffs.

“Well, looks like the rest of your class are brats who think they’re better than us!” He challenges. I roll my eyes and point to my backpack, in Eijiro’s hand.

“That’s my backpack, but it hasn’t been on my shoulders since I got here. Eijiro here was the one who got me out of the villain attack and he’s been helping me ever since. The rest of my class are great people, too. Bakugo’s just...headstrong and doesn’t listen to anything or anyone.” The guy turns to Katsuki.

“Oh, great! Talk all you want, loser! It’ll just be more embarrassing when you’re K.Oed!” Katsuki just scoffs and walks away.

“Don’t you ignore me!” The newcomer roars angrily. I move to get Katsuki, but Eijiro beats me to saying anything.

“Dude, where’re you going?! You gotta say something! It’s your fault everyone’s hating on us, Bakugo!” Katuski just glances over his shoulder.

“These people don’t matter.” He growls.

“Huh!?” Eijiro snaps.

“The only thing that’s important is that I beat them.”

“Katsuki, stop!” I snap. “Yeah, we have to beat them to win, but heroes also need to have good teamwork with others. You need to work on that if you want to be the top.”

“Says who?” Katsuki retorts, then walks away before I can say anything else. The silver-head pops up again.

“Hey! I’m coming for you!” He exclaims. Katsuki ignores him. I go to chase him down and talk sense into him, but then decide against it. Right now, Katsuki’s only focus was winning the Sports Festival. If I were to talk to him, he’d only see it as me trying to undermine his chances somehow.

“I hate that that was such a manly exit…” Eijiro grumbles, clenching his fist. I bite my lip.

“Yeah, but...there’s no way he’ll win the Festival if he pisses everyone off.” I reply.

“Meh. He’ll be fine.” Sero counters.

“Besides, he wasn’t wrong.” Fumikage points out. “We have to beat them.” Kaminari groans.

“Yeah, sure, but this sucks!”

“So let’s prove them wrong.” I call, coming back further into the class room. “Don’t be what everyone thinks we are. We’ll prove them wrong.” Denki groans.

“But he made us everyone’s enemy!”

“Yeah, and all these dumb idiots will be gunning for us in the Festical now.” Mineta adds. I shrug, not looking at that little creep.

“Look, just keep training hard and don’t be an asshole and we’ll prove them wrong.” I retort, looking at Kaminari. He laughs.

“Kinda blunt, Yamada, but I like your style!” I chuckle and wave him away.

“Call me Takara, and thanks.” Eijiro then calls me and puts my backpack beside my desk for me. I notice he’s glaring at Kaminari, so I try to distract him by smiling at him. “Thanks.” The students outside slowly go away, talking about this and that, and I have to restrain myself from giving some big speech about how great my class is because the truth is...I don’t really know them yet. I don’t know enough to definitively stand up and say what I want to say. I then look up as Shinso walks over, giving me a small smile.

“Hey.” I smile back.

“Hey.”

“I’m glad to see you’re better. You had me scared for a moment.” Anyone who didn’t know Shinso might think he’s just saying that. His voice didn’t give much emotion away, but I understood. He meant every word.

“That was some speech.” I note, sighing.

“I meant that, too.” He says, leaning against the desk in front of me and crossing his arms. Most everyone’s left and I wanted to talk to Shinso, anyway, so I stay.

“Don’t lie; you just wanted to see me.” I tease, smiling.

“And what gave you that idea? I just wanted to send my message to 1-A.” He retorts. I roll my eyes, then sigh and pick at my skirt.

“...I’m worried, Shinso.” I confess softly.

“About what?” He asks, brow raised.

“About the Festival, and...and if I’ll be healed enough to prepare myself to fight. I just...my ribs don’t hurt that bad, but my leg still needs work. And I still need to train. A lot. I just...Mom and Dad will be watching. The world will be watching. I want to make a good impression.” Eijiro apparently takes that as a kind of cue, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“You’ll make a great one!” He assures me, daring to squeeze me close enough to mush our cheeks together. I blush and laugh.

“If you say so.” I reply, squeezing him in return. He straightens up, lets go, and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“But seriously; don’t sweat it. You’ll be great!” I grin and put my hand over his in a moment of boldness.

“If you say so.” I retort. Eijiro understood the deeper meaning; I support you, but think you’re downplaying yourself too much.. It was somethign we’d done for each other a lot as we approached this school year and the challenge of learning how to be a pro hero. Shinso pushes off the desk.

“Well, it was nice chatting, but I should be going.” He says. I stand, too, and hug him.

“Thanks for coming.” I murmur, drawing away.

“Your friend’s right, Takara; trust yourself. Besides, your parents adore you. No matter what you do in the Festival, their love won’t change.” I nod.

“Yeah, yeah. I just can’t help worrying about this whole thing.” Hitoshi shakes his head, chuckling.

“Don’t.” With that, he shrugs and waves as he walks away. I watch him leave and then pick up my backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, insisting on carrying it this time, despite Eijiro tugging on it.

“I got it. I’m not going far. Just to the teacher’s lounge to find Mom and Dad.” Eijiro pouts.

“Takara, you shouldn’t overdo it.” He mumbles. I smile, adjusting the backpack a little.

“I’m not.” He suddenly leans forward gives me a hug. I wonder where this is coming from, but find that I really like this. His hug is strong, but not overwhelming, steady and warm. I feel so safe and secure, I lose myself for a second and bury my face in his neck. He smells like cologne and men’s bodywash. One of those two things had teatree oil in it, something that made him smell amazing!

I then feel Eijiro stiffen and come back to reality and I blush almost blood red as I release him. Our eyes were so wide, they might have popped if they were balloons. “S-so-sorry!” I stammer, grabbing my crutch and running as quick as I can out of the classroom without using the crutch. Eijiro hadn’t moved, so I had a headstart, managing to get away before he- -”Ow!”

“Oof!” I blink, my leg flaring a bit as I realize I’ve run into somebody. Instantly, I stand and apologize. The person I hit laughs.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It happens sometimes.” It’s a female, third year if I had to guess. Her Quirk makes her look wolf-like, her fur a mottled grey, black and earthen brown. It was so pretty! Her eyes were sapphire blue on the outside and emerald green on the inside and her tail flicks back and forth mindlessly and I have to remember to talk. It was rude to just stare.

“But still. I’m, um, Takara. Takara Yamada.” Her eyes light up.

“Oh! My dad works with your parents!” I raise a brow.

“Really?” She nods.

“Yeah! Oh, sorry! I’m Asami. Asami Hamato.” I grin.

“Like Hamato-Sensei that teaches the second years’ literature?” Asami laughs.

“Yeah. He might quit after this semester, though. He wants to start a self-defense dojo for people with less, um, combative Quirks.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” She nods happily.

“Thanks.” She hands me back my crutch. “Here you go.” I take it. She pauses. “Wait...you’re in 1-A, right?” I nod.

“Yeah.” She gestures to my boot.

“This from that USJ incident?” I nod.

“Yeah...turns out your leg breaks when a superhuman grabs it to slam you into your mother.” I tried to sound light, like it was a joke now...but my voice wavered. Asami winces.

“Yikes. I’m glad you’re doing better, then.” I was grateful she didn’t press me for more details as I squirm.

“Thanks. I should probably let you go. It was great meeting you.” Asami smiles.

“Yeah, it was great meeting you, too. Maybe I’ll see you around, okay?” I nod, starting to walk off.

“Yeah.” We wave at each other and I continue on my way. Luckily, Eijiro hadn’t pursued me. I blushed again just thinking about that moment…

What was I thinking?! I’d just...it’d felt so good having his strong arms around me, his warmth making me feel safe and at ease, even if it was just for a moment. And then I went and ruined the mood by sniffing him! Ergh!

Finally, I reach the teacher’s lounge. “Hey, champ!” Dad calls. “I was just gonna come looking for yah!” I walk further into the room.

“Hey. I was just talking a bit with the others before I came up here.” he smiles.

“Okay.” I decided to focus on Asami, not that. I’d never hear the end of it if I told Dad I sniffed someone (especially Eijiro) out of nowhere.

“I met a third year on my way here.” Dad tilts his head.

“Oh? Who are they? I might know her.”

“Asami Hamato.” Dad grins.

“Oh, yeah! Her dad works here; Hamato Yoshi. He’s a nice guy. Kinda quiet, doesn’t say much, and doesn’t hang around the school a lot.” I shrug.

“Asami also said he wants to start a self-defense dojo for people that don’t have very combative Quirks.” Dad’s eyes go wide.

“That’s great!” I grin.

“I know, right?” Dad then grabs his stuff.

“Alright. Shota’s resting on the couch, but it’s time to go, so I’ll get her.” I nod.

=#=#=#=#=

The next few days went quick, and after school, I’d pop in for a little healing. Never anything extreme, but enough that in those few days, I was healed enough that Recovery Girl gave me the okay to start getting back into exercise and training, warning me to take it a little slow at first.

At that particular session (when I was cleared for training), All Might happens by the door. “I didn’t know you still needed healing…” He mumbles, walking slowly into the room. He looked guilty, but I don’t know why.

“Well, I didn’t want to drain my stamina too much because of school and stuff, but, um, yeah...I should be all healed soon, though, right Recovery Girl?” She chuckles.

“Yes, I believe so, now hold still so I can use my Quirk.” I do and find the healing sensation something I’ve gotten used to at this point. I watch Toshin-Oji go into his real form and sigh heavily as he sits on a cot.

“Takara, I...I wanted to say I’m sorry.” I blink as Recovery Girl moves away.

“Wait, what?” I ask, genuinely confused. “What for?”

“I couldn’t be at the USJ because I wasted my time as All Might that morning being heroic. I was stupid and now you, Shota, and Izuku paid the price.” I blink, remembering that Izuku’s legs seemed broken when he leapt out to protect All Might at the USJ. I wince.

“Is Izuku okay?” I ask automatically.

“He’s fine.” Recovery Girl assures me. “Besides broken legs, he only had minor injuries and two broken fingers.” I breathe out.

“That’s good.”

“How’s Shota?” All Might asks, bringing us more or less back to what he’d said. I sigh.

“She’s...coping. It’s not easy for her to adjust to needing to wear casts on both of her arms, but she’s happy she’s not blind.”

“She could have been blinded?!” He asks sharply in shock. I pale. Wrong thing to say!

“...Her orbital floors were pretty badly damaged, but Recovery Girl managed to heal them. She’s fine...or, at least, better then she used to be.” I chuckle awkwardly, and All Might smiles in relief, exhaling.

“That’s great news. Frankly, I was worried about you two, even after I heard you were stable. When I saw you on the ground, caught under Nomu’s foot...I didn’t know what had happened, just that it pissed me off so much I saw red and next thing I knew, I had you in my arms.” I blink. He’d been feeling this way since the incident?

“Toshin-Oji, you really can’t blame yourself- -no, seriously- -the only ones to blame are the villains.” I reply, holding up a hand when he tried to interrupt. “Even during the fight, I knew as long as I could hold out until I got to Recovery Girl, I’d be okay. I knew my injuries were bad, but I always had that notion in the back of my head.” I realize what I’m saying and turn to Recovery Girl. “I mean, not that I assumed you’d help me or anything! I just knew there was a possibility that I’d be healed pretty quickly!” She holds up her hand.

“I knew what you meant, dear. And, unlike another student, I haven’t had to heal you much, so of course I’d help you out. You and your mother were hurt pretty bad. I knew I could help, and I did, so let’s all agree to put this behind us, okay?” I smile.

“Yeah...okay. Toshin-Oji?” He turns his head to look me in the eye. “I love you.” He blinks.

“I love you, too.” He says and I swoop over to hug him. “You truly are a treasure.” He murmurs, squeezing me just a little harder and kissing my temple. I tear up a little in happiness and bury my face in his chest.

“Hey, Tik--...am I interrupting?” Dad asks, trailing off when he saw what was going on. I pull away and smile at Dad.

“Nah, we were just clearing some things up.” I reply, winking at Toshin-Oji. Dad seems to read the subtext and nods.

“I see. Well, Shota’s ready to go, so let’s not keep her waiting, okay?” I nod.

“Okay.” I turn back to the office. “Bye, guys!” I call, waving as I walk out of the room, thankfully not needing my boot. “Thank you, Recovery Girl!” I add.

“Don’t overdo it, dear! Start slow!” She calls back and I nod in acknowledgement.

“Hey, Tik-Tak, there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” Dad says as we walk, and I nod, wondering what he could possibly want to talk to me about.

“Okay.” I prompt. He wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“Shota and I have been talking, and we think it’d be best to move into the faculty facility here on campus. That way, Shota doesn’t have to be driven to work everyday and we all have a bit more independence. Would you want to do that?” I nod.

“Yeah, Mom mentioned you two were toying with the idea, and I told her I could have my stuff packed in, like, two hours. Honestly, I think it’s a good idea!” He ruffles my hair.

“Thanks, Takara. Frankly, I’m using the whole move as a way to help Shota.” He sighs, slumped and looking away. “She’s taking this hard. Villains got the drop on us and she’s still trying to cope.” I blink.

“I...I’d imagine so.” I mumble. “Honestly, I haven’t been sleeping too well, myself. I keep waking up to nothing, feeling on edge for some reason, wondering what woke me, but I’m able to go back to sleep. Sometimes, I swear there’s someone in a room, but when I do the vibration thing, no one’s there.” Dad looks at me somberly, hand on my shoulder.

“That’s completely normal, Musume. Even Shota’s been having nightmares. She keeps waking up, clutching her face and staring around the room with her Quirk active, like she’s looking for enemies. It’s hard to get her to calm down.” I sigh. Figures Mom has her own demons to deal with.

“Maybe we can have movie night? Watch some corny comedy or something?” Dad chuckles.

“Maybe. Or we can ask Toshinori for show suggestions to watch as a family.” I nod eagerly.

“Yeah!” I’m already whipping out my phone and typing up a text as Dad laughs.

“We’ll look up recipes for popcorn and make a night of it. What’dya say?” I grin at him, sending the text.

“I say ‘hell yeah’!” I reply, high-fiving dad. This was a great idea!

Within five minutes, I get a text back.

Toshin-Oji <3:

Well, if you’re looking for something that makes for a good distraction, I’d recommend some of the older movies by an American film studio called Walt Disney. They have an interesting 2-D style in their early works and I find the stories charming. As for shows, I’m not sure...maybe look around and see if something appeals to you all.

I smile. That was an interesting idea, for sure.

=#=#=#=#=

The next day, we were at the fake city from the entrance exam, training. It was a lot of fun, even if I couldn’t really work myself the way I wanted to without making my leg cramp and spasm even after healing the broken bone. It was slowly coming back to normal, though, as I practiced simple kicks and stuff after a really short run to build that muscle back. My ribs forced me to take breaks, as well, if I pushed it too hard, but they were coming along great, too. My phone buzzes as I finish a pretend fight, so I check who the text is from.

Eijiro Kirishima:

Hey, come look at the tall building’s roof!

Confused, I decide to go ahead and walk over. I knew Eijiro was in the same area as me, so I knew which tall building he meant. However, it was so tall, I couldn’t see clearly what I was supposed to see up there. All I saw was a small blurry thing that might be Eijiro.

Me:

Ok, I’m here. What do you want me to see? I can’t really see anything…

Just a few seconds after I sent that, I hear a faint yell and then look up to see- - “Eijiro!” I scream, backing up toward the building make sure I wouldn’t be hit. I knew what he was doing; practicing falling long distances and using his Quirk to survive them. It was just training, but...still. If he didn’t activate his Quirk in time...thankfully, he lands and comes back up almost instantly, thrusting dramatically through the cracked pavement.

“Yyyeeaaahhh!” He roars, grinning wildly at me as he walks over, dusting himself off. His grin then turns into a smirk. “Impressed?” He asks, one hand on his hip, the other on the wall. I snort, blushing a little as he leans in just a little.

“You’re insane. You could have died...but to answer your question...yeah, it was kinda impressive.” I reply with slightly pink cheeks, chuckling and walking away, when Eijiro puts his other hand on the other side of my head. I turn to look at him. His face is intense with some unreadable emotion as he stares at me.

“So...did I smell good?” He asks, leaning in. I blush and lean back against the wall. Where was this coming from!?

“Um...what?” I ask stupidly, my racing mind unable to process what he might be talking about.

“What happened after the final bell yesterday...that hug…” My blush darkens. Oh shit! I’d almost forgotten! I lick my lips.

“I- -I’m so sorry about that!” I squeak, unsure how to take this reaction. Was he mad? Disgusted? He was so hard to read right now… “I, ah, I mean…yeah...you did smell good.” Why was that hard to say? It was a fact, nothing more...right? He then smiles, laughing (I swear he’s blushing, too, though) as he leans back, keeping one hand on the wall. I blush darker and want to sink into the ground.

“Takara, relax! I was just teasing!” He chirps. “But, good to know!” I exhale, then smack his arm.

“You jerk! I thought you were mad at me or something!” That, and I thought maybe...that was leading somewhere- -stoppit! This is not the time for those kind of thoughts! He’s just a friend! Stop!

“Aww, Takara, I could never be mad at you for long!” He replies, patting my arm and moving away.

“Good to know, jerk.” I grumble, the tone undermined by my smirk, then I sigh and nudge him. “You know, you’re a good man, Eijiro.” I mumble, cheeks red again “You didn’t have to help me, but you did, and I want you to know it means a lot to me.” He’s definitely blushing as he walks beside me. I wanted to make sure he knew how much all his help meant to me.

“Takara, I’d do it again. Anytime.” I feel an instinct to hug him but refrain and settle for smiling at him as we walk back toward where the others were training.

“And I’d do it for you.” I reply, just letting myself enjoy this moment. It was two friends affirming their bond...and that’s it…

So why am I blushing?!

(I promise I don’t mean to keep forcing KiriKara down your throat but most of these moments write themselves. Hope y’all don’t mind! (: Can’t wait to show you all the Sports Festival!)

#Fanfiction #OC Insertion Series #OC #original character #Original Female Character #MHA #BNHA #Eijiro Kirishima #Eijiro Kirishima X OC #Eijiro Kirishima X Takara Yamada #Takara Yamada (OC)

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creative-type · 6 years

Text

Confidentiality

Word count: ~4000 AO3 Summary: He was the youngest, most naive Straw Hat, but Chopper was also a doctor, and doctors keep their patient's secrets.

"Any dizziness, lightheadedness, or blurred vision?" Chopper asked as he listened to Nami's heart.

"No, no, and no."

The newest Straw Hat was learning quickly that hearty constitutions were the norm for this strange little crew. For someone who had been deathly ill less than a week prior, Nami seemed to be in remarkably good spirits. But the fact remained that she had nearly been killed by a prehistoric disease, and that regular checkups were a must until Chopper was certain she would not relapse.

Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub. The steady, even rhythm was soothing. It really did seem like she was fully recovered. It was the closest thing to a miracle Chopper had seen in his short medical career.

"Hey, there's something I wanted to ask you earlier, but I forgot," Chopper said.

"Sure," Nami said with a soft smile that made him want to squirm in delight.

"Who's Arlong?"

Lub dub, lubdub, lubdublubdub…The room went deathly silent as Nami's heart began to race, and Chopper realized he had asked something very bad without even meaning to.

"Where did you hear that name?"

The sharp, almost panicked tone in her voice made him cringe. Hiding his face with his hat, Chopper tried not to see that his indomitable navigator (his new friend) was scared.

"Y-you did. When you were sick." Nami paled, and the scared look was replaced with one of horror. "Y-you were delirious. You said something about maps, and that…and that you'd have them finished on time."

Nami's arms went limp by her side, and she stared blankly ahead without seeing.

"You asked him not to hurt you."

The statement snapped her back into reality. Nami grabbed the front of Chopper's lab coat, her gaze burning with anger. "Don't you dare tell anyone. I'll deny it till I'm blue in the face. I'll call you a liar and make you wish you were never born."

"I-I wasn't going to!" Chopper stammered.

"You said it yourself, I was delirious. No one would believe you anyway."

"Nami, I'm your doctor! I would never tell anyone what happened when you were sick!"

"I—you wouldn't?" Nami seemed to remember herself, letting go of his clothes as if they were on fire.

"No, I wouldn't!" Chopper exclaimed as he took a step backward.

"Oh." Nami looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then her hand moved to her shoulder, tracing her tattoo with one finger. "I'm sorry. It's just that Arlong…Arlong wasn't a very nice man."

Chopper nodded his understanding. "Neither was Wapol, but he's gone now. Arlong's not here either, so you're safe." His spirits lifted when he saw a small smile on the navigator's face. "But if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

Nami reached out and touched his cheek tenderly. "Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it."

With a metal nose, blue hair, and forearms bigger than a normal man's thigh, Franky could never be described as normal. Add in cola-fueled energy systems, air cannons that shot out of his hands, and the ability to turn into a reverse centaur, Franky was downright freakish.

Chopper didn't mind. There were monsters aplenty aboard the Thousand Sunny. Franky and his cyborg body fit right in with the rest.

Besides, the shipwright was proud of his handiwork. Hardly a day went by where he didn't demonstrate some insane feature he had installed into himself all those years ago. He and Usopp would often joke with one another about what upgrades he would attempt next, each more ridiculous than the last.

Seriously, who else besides Franky would think that nipple lights were a good idea?

There was, however, one sore spot, one not-so-insignificant part of himself that Franky deemed less than super.

"Promise not to laugh?" he asked nervously the first time Chopper examined him.

"I never laugh at my patients," Chopper answered solemnly.

"I can't…I can't have kids."

Chopper blinked, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Franky rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "When the sea train hit me, it did a lot of damage, er, down there." His cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment. "I made sure it looks normal, and there's still feeling, but I can't…"

"Have kids," Chopper answered for him.

"Yeah."

"Is that something you want?"

"No! Not now, but in the future, yeah…maybe, I dunno. It's not…manly."

Chopper nodded his understanding, although he was still amazed he was having this conversation with Franky, who seemed more interested in mechanics and robotics than romance and children.

He put a hoof on Franky's knee and gave him an encouraging smile. "If something, or someone, makes you change your mind in the future, talk to me. There are some treatment options we can try."

"Really? That's…that's super. Thanks, bro. And…if you don't mind keeping this to yourself…"

"Of course."

"What happened?!" Chopper shrieked, resisting the urge to punch Zoro right in his big, fat chin. The bleeding had stopped, but the wounds would reopen with the slightest provocation. He had seen Zoro beaten and bloody before, but the mysterious altercation at Thriller Bark had left him shredded. In places it had been difficult to find enough healthy tissue to stitch back together.

"Nothing," the swordsman replied with the same unnatural calmness he had exhibited since regaining consciousness. Normally when injured he was rushing to resume his training, wanting to excise the weakness that had led to him being hurt. This time was different. Zoro had accepted the outcome of this particular altercation with surprising grace.

It was infuriating, and Chopper was at his wits end. It was moments like this that led him to believe that Doctorine was right to throw scalpels at her patients.

"I. Am. Your doctor!" Chopper exclaimed. "I need to know what happened!"

"No you don't."

Without thinking, Chopper transformed into his full human form, looming over the swordsman as he poked a finger at the one unbandaged part of his torso. "And if you bleed to death because I didn't know the proper means of treatment?"

"Then that's as far down the path I could make it," Zoro said with a lopsided shrug.

"No, you selfish asshole!" Chopper yelled. He had never talked to one of his crewmates like this before, and he hated it. He hated it, because it wasn't even necessary. Sometimes Zoro's pride was as bad as Sanji's chivalry, but at least Sanji had the decency to admit his deference to the fairer sex would someday be the death of him.

"If I can't heal you that means…that means I failed. That I'm n-not good enough for my dream…" Chopper's vision blurred, and he couldn't keep the tears from falling. "I d-don't want you t-to die. I c-can't help you if I don't kn-know what's wr-wrong."

With one piteous sniff, Chopper reverted to his normal hybrid form and sat in the middle of the floor of his infirmary. He cried, not because he was frustrated (that happened all the time with Zoro as a patient) but because he was exhausted. The Straw Hat Pirates had been in so many life and death situations in such a short amount of time, Chopper wasn't sure how much more he could take.

He heard Zoro sigh, and the swordsman joined him on the ground. Leaning back with a small wince, Zoro looked at the ceiling in thought.

"I'm through the worst of it now," he said. "I'm not gonna die."

"B-but it doesn't make sense. Your injuries, I've never seen a-anything like it before. I'm s-scared, b-because….because I don't know what could do that to you, or if it'll happen again." Chopper wiped his eyes with his hooves. "It's as if…as if something was pushing from the inside out. All your muscles and major blood vessels had damage in their innermost layers. Like…like…"

"Like they'd been stretched," Zoro supplied.

"Yes, like if Luffy stretched his whole body too far all at once." Chopper shook his head when he thought of their captain. For once, Luffy had managed to come out of an adventure unharmed. If anything, it was the opposite.

"Exactly like Luffy," Zoro repeated, before falling silent and letting him put the pieces together.

"…You didn't," Chopper whispered when it dawned on him. "How…?"

"That doesn't matter," Zoro said, this time his tone indicating the subject was closed for good. "I'm not going to die. You did your job, Chopper, just like I had to do mine."

"O-okay."

"Luffy can never know," Zoro said. "I only told you so you'd stop worrying."

It seemed impossible, but in that moment Chopper's respect for Zoro grew even more. And to be trusted with a secret this huge meant that Zoro respected him back. Chopper nodded, brushing away the last of his tears.

"Okay."

"Hey, Chopper, is it normal when people talk to themselves?"

Chopper roused himself, blinking sleepily at Usopp. It was a quiet, warm afternoon, and the crew was all worn out from a recent skirmish with the marines. "That depends, I guess."

"Oh." Usopp leaned back on his haunches.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Usopp said quickly. "It's just…I know this guy…"

"Sogeking?" Chopper asked excitedly. Since Enies Lobby, Usopp had kept in touch with his superhero friend, and was more than happy to regale to anyone who would listen with stories of his heroic exploits.

Usopp thought about it for a moment. "Actually, it is. It's not him, per say, but his, er, sidekick. Yeah. Sogeking's sidekick, Sniper Lad, has been, well, talking to himself. He—that is Sogeking—is concerned. Because that's not normal, right?"

"What's he saying?" Chopper asked.

"Nothing bad. Pep talks, mostly."

"Hmm. It's hard to say. I don't want to make a premature judgment when I've never seen the patient."

"I understand."

"But…" Chopper tapped his chin. "Mental health is a spectrum. Health in general is a spectrum. A lot of people like to have black and white definitions of 'sane' and 'insane', but it doesn't work like that, just like there isn't a clear-cut way to say someone is 'healthy' or 'unhealthy'.

"As the sidekick to a successful hero, Sniper Lad has a very stressful and demanding job. If he's not contemplating doing harm to himself or others and uses it simply as a means to cope...Did Sogeking say if these 'pep talks' helped or not?"

"They've gotten the job done," Usopp said.

"Okay. Without knowing more information, I'd say there's nothing to worry about. People deal with stress in different ways, and if that's what works for Sniper Lad…" Chopper looked back up towards the sky. "Who is anyone else to judge?"

"That's good. I, er, Sogeking was getting really worried there for a second."

Chopper closed his eyes, ready to resume his nap. "I'd like to meet Sniper Lad someday. It's a shame Sogeking had to leave so quickly after Enies Lobby. He would have been a real help against Oars. But I guess he's busy with hero stuff."

"Yeah," Usopp said quietly. "I guess he is."

It wasn't often post-battle checkups made Chopper feel sad. Angry, incredulous, or frustrated, yes, maybe even awed if a wound was spectacular enough. But never sad.

His assessment of Robin after her rescue made Chopper sad.

A single, massive contusion covered her abdomen, the bruises a harsh bluish-purple. An abrasion started at the crest of her hip, disappearing beneath her pants. Worst was the bruising on her shoulders. Chopper could still see the individual finger prints from where she had been grabbed.

"Elephant sword, mostly," Robin said, answering the question he was too scared to ask.

Chopper made a distressed noise and tenderly touched a mark by her kidney. It was uncomfortably similar to the shape of a boot, and he was grateful he had already run the tests that ruled out internal bleeding. "Robin, how long have you had suicidal thoughts?"

"Excuse me?" Robin asked, shying away from his touch for the first time.

"You said you wanted to die," Chopper said, eyes misting at the terrible memory. "H-how long have you thought that?" And how long have I missed clinical depression in one of my patients?

Instead of avoiding the question as he half-feared she might, Robin tilted her head in thought. "I don't know exactly how long it's been, Doctor. Archeologists think about death a great deal simply by the nature of their work, and when I started doing more…unsavory deeds to ensure survival, my awareness of my mortality only increased. But actually wanting to die?" A tiny frown appeared on her face, and her eyes grew distant. "Fifteen years, maybe? It's not constant, but during low moments I've at least entertained the notion."

Chopper's stomach twisted into knots. Fifteen years was as long as he'd been alive, humanly-speaking. "Have you ever tried to…to…"

"Not directly, no. I owe too much to too many people to take my life with my own hand, no matter how badly I may have wanted to in the past." Robin looked down at Chopper intently. "Doctor, I'm asking for your discretion in this matter. The others can't know, not after all that's happened."

"A doctor never tells his patient's secrets."

They were silent as Chopper continued his assessment. Robin probably had a few cracked ribs, but there was little he could do for those other than pain control. As he examined her skull, he found several tender areas and a scab where a chunk of hair had been ripped from her scalp. One of her teeth had a large chip in it.

Sensing his mounting distress, Robin touched Chopper's shoulder reassuringly. Her eyes were tired, but her smile was warm. "I left because I didn't have those thoughts here. From the time I joined Straw Hats until Aokiji's attack…I was happy. After digging out of the pit and tasting the sunlight, I didn't want to go back to the darkness. I thought the betrayal was inevitable, and I had no choice but to go back. I was wrong, and I will fight with every fiber of my being to stay with this crew for as long as I can."

Her battered body was evidence enough of that. "Good. But, Robin, if anything happens and there's another low moment…I'm here for you."

Robin's smile widened, and she squeezed his shoulder. "I know."

One of the most exciting things about reuniting after two years was discovering what new things the Straw Hats had learned during their separation. Usopp had his new arsenal of plants, Sanji could set things on fire under water, and Brook…

Brook's new abilities were totally awesome.

"I can't believe it!" Chopper exclaimed. "You got your head cut off and lived!"

Brook took a sip of tea, obviously pleased with himself. "Well, yes. I suppose I did, didn't I?"

"That's amazing!"

"I would have thought you would be more impressed with Mr. Franky's new machines," Brook chuckled. "All I did was improve my control over my Devil Fruit."

"That's cool, but do you know what that means for me as a doctor?" Chopper nearly burst with excitement at the thought. "I have a patient who can get his head cut off and not die. That makes my job so much easier."

"Well, technically, I've already died…"

"Think of the possibilities!"

Brook set his tea down. "I have, actually, and I'd rather not do it again," he said quietly.

"Huh? Why not?" Chopper asked.

"My body was already somewhat durable. A skeleton does not truly need to eat or drink, nor does it have fleshly parts that can fall prey to disease or decay. I've lived this second life for over fifty years, and I am no different than the day my soul returned to my body."

The crux of Brook's problem dawned on Chopper, and some of his elation deflated.

"My body is held together with the energy of the Underworld. You will all age and will eventually pass on, and even when I'm reunited with Laboon, he will not live forever. I've lost those closest to me once before, and I don't want to experience that ever again."

"Oh."

"But," Brook said sadly, "I'm not certain I can die. Perhaps if what is left of me was destroyed completely, maybe, but I've learned how to project my soul outside my body. And obviously it's not something I want to go around testing, on the off-chance I'm wrong. Not yet, at least."

Chopper was quiet for a moment. "You know, Doctorine told me stories of dying people remaining in an unconscious state for over a week until family could arrive to say goodbye, and others who hold on long enough to see their children married or to hold the grandchildren for the first time and only to pass a few hours later. She always thought that people had some control over when they died. You've got a lot to live for, but when your time comes I think you'll be able to let go."

"Yohohoho, I had never thought of it that way. Thank you, Chopper. Of course, there's quite a lot I wish to accomplish before that happens." A grin spread across his skull, and Brook patted the top of Chopper's hat. "Let's not talk of such unpleasant matters any longer. It's been too long since I've seen you…though I don't have eyes…and I want to know how you've managed to develop such wonderful new transformations."

Sanji claimed he never got sick, and technically that was true.

He did, however, get short of breath.

Chopper shook his head as he pulled his stethoscope away from Sanji's chest. The symptoms were subtle, but to Chopper's sensitive ears they were as plain as day. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I think all those cigarettes are catching up with you."

"You 'think'?" Sanji said.

"It's polite doctor-speak for 'smoking two packs of cigarettes a day is going to kill you'. But I'm sure you knew that already."

"Hey, no need to be hostile," Sanji said crossly. His fingers twitched, and Chopper knew he was fighting the urge to pull out a cigarette at that moment. Chopper was very flexible when it came to doctoring, but he absolutely refused to let Sanji smoke in his infirmary.

"We've been through this before. I guess I'm just frustrated," Chopper said. "You know the risks."

"I do, and that doesn't change the fact I'm going to light up just as soon as I go through that door."

"Can't you at least cut back a little?" Chopper pleaded. "No girl's going to want to kiss you if your breath smells like tobacco."

Sanji threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, you poor, ignorant bastard. Why do you think I started in the first place? It gives me an aura of mystery that matches perfectly with my handsome charm. Look up debonair in the dictionary, and there's probably a picture of me with a cigarette."

"That same picture would also be listed under lung cancer," Chopper said.

"Well, if I live long enough to get to that point, I give you permission to laugh at my sorry ass."

"No. I'll be too busy trying to keep you alive, despite your terminal case of hopeless idiocy," Chopper said, managing a smile.

Sanji snorted. "That's something, I guess. How bad is it, Chopper?"

"You're in the early stages of lung disease. I'll make up some treatments, but as far as I can tell none of your abilities have been compromised yet."

"That's good," Sanji said, and the relief in his visible eye was nearly palpable. "No reason to give Moss Head another reason to exercise his superiority complex."

"And there's no reason to worry the rest of the crew," Chopper agreed. "All the symptoms are reversible. For now."

"Okay." Sanji stood to leave. "I'm sure there will be plenty of I-told-you-sos later, but I really need a smoke."

"Good doctors don't say I told you so," Chopper said quietly. "They stick with their patients, through thick and thin."

Sanji stared at him in surprise, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. "Then I'm glad you're my doctor, 'cause you're the best there is."

Burns were tricky. Really, having a large amount of scar tissue regardless of cause was tricky. The new skin wasn't as flexible or strong, and if the wound went deep enough the underlying areas were affected as well. No matter how cool looking, Chopper was glad when his patents didn't scar. It was healthier that way.

It was, of course, impossible to avoid all of the time. The Straw Hats were pirates, with all of the danger that entailed. But Chopper considered it a matter of pride that he was able to treat his friend's wounds without leaving behind long-term complications.

Which, in a way, explained why he felt so guilty when he saw Luffy's chest. The X-shaped scar showed how he had been unable to be there in his captain's time of need, not just during the battle, but during the time of recovery as well. Whoever had done the initial treatment had done a serviceable job, though Chopper believed he could have done better, had he been there to try.

"Does it hurt?" Chopper asked softly, palpating the edges of the wound.

"Every day," Luffy said in his normal, simple way, as if it were no problem at all.

"I could help with that," Chopper said. "It's the least I could do after I wasn't there to help…"

"That wasn't your fault, Chopper. I don't want you to say it was ever again, captain's orders," Luffy said, with a seriousness that was usually absent from his voice. "I was the one who wasn't strong enough. Me, and no one else."

"But…" Chopper faltered when Luffy glared at him. "It's not your fault, either."

Luffy leaned back, a sullen expression on his face. "Maybe not, but I'm still gonna make sure it never happens again. I'm strong enough now, I swear."

"I know."

Slowly, Luffy's normal grin returned. "I'm not good at very many things. I can't be the Pirate King without you."

"That doesn't make me happy at all, asshole," Chopper said, delighted.

"Shishishi," Luffy laughed quietly. Then he looked down at his scar, and the serious expression came back. He blinked a few times, very rapidly as if he were trying not to cry, and when he looked at Chopper again his eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

There was a second reason Chopper did not like scars, one that was more psychological than medical. He did not like his patients to be reminded of their trauma every time they looked in a mirror. When Chopper was able to heal someone without leaving a visible mark, he liked to think he had helped heal them on the emotional level as well. He would never pretend that the pain had never happened, but he did think that it made it easier to move on.

Luffy didn't have that opportunity. Every day he would be faced with the evidence of his brother's death.

"And we've gotten stronger, too," Chopper said. "We'll be right behind you, no matter where you go."

A look of pure relief coursed through Luffy's body. He wiped his eyes and gave Chopper a wobbly smile. Maybe two years wasn't enough to completely heal him from the events that took place during the Marineford War, but that was okay. Luffy was well on his way, and Chopper would see to it that his broken heart was made whole again.

#One Piece #One Piece Fanfiction #Chopper #Usopp #Nico Robin #Monkey D Luffy #Roronoa zoro #Franky #Brook #Nami

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lukescheekglitter · 6 years

Text

Long-term Kik role play!

This is gonna be a long post!

Hiya! My name is Lou, and I’m interested in finding some new Kik role play partners! Just because my current partners aren’t as active as I’d like, or just I want something fresh and new to play with. So I’m gonna give you some key information&points on what would help you in deciding if you’d like to role-play with me or not!

Facts:

- My name is Alysha (Hello!)

- I’m 17!

- My fave/sunshine is Ashton!

- My characters expiriences are not my expiriences, my muse will never be based off myself, I don’t live through my characters. If my character has been raped/abused/had a bad experience, it’s all made up.

Rules:

- No ddlg! (Daddy Dom, Little Girl)

Calling the male “daddy” in a non-sexual setting is ok, bottles,binkies,diapers,talking/acting like a baby isn’t tolerable for me (sorry!)

- No pet play!

Tail plugs, Clip on ears, Clip on tails, and collars, calling the s/o “kitty” “bunny” “doe” or even “baby bear” or “puppy” in a public/private/sexual setting is perfectly ok! No fur suits! And Eating/drinking out of a bowl, going to “kitten/bunny space” is not!

-No scat/water sport kinks, PERIOD!

- No killing off main characters without discussing it with me first!

- No domestic abuse!

In instances, pushing is acceptable, such as, if muse A goes out to a bar and gets drunk with his/her friends, and comes home with hickeys on their neck and muse b has a meltdown over it and shoves muse a out of the way, that’s ok.

- No body shaming!

Your muse should NEVER tell mine to loose weight/work out, encouraging healthy decisions is ok, but saying things like “should you be eating that?” Or “babe you’ve eaten so much today!” Or “Wow, you look so skinny in this picture!” This will NOT be tolerated.

-No super short replies! Make it at least 5-10 lines please, but half-a full page or even hitting character limit is greatly appriciated!

-No leaving me on r/ not being active for days/more then 30 minutes at a time.

Being busy is ok! If your going to school/work/doing things/going to bed/taking a nap, just tell me! If your going on vacation and won’t have service or are going to a sleepover and your replies will be slow, just say “Hey! I’m doing something right now/am super busy, I’ll be active again in 1 hour/tomorrow/next week”, or “I’m going to bed I’ll reply in the morning/when I wake up!” It’s not that hard! And it makes things easier for me, as I’m not left hanging (:

Please do:

- Encorperate your kinks! Kinks that are attractive/acceptable to me include but are not limited to:

Daddy kink (love this one!)

Kitten/Bunny kink (specifically tails&ears&collars&pet names)

Light BDSM (Spanking, Light choking, grabbing of the face, rough sex, light over stimulation)

Dirty talk! (Your my little slut/whore/toy/fuck doll/cum whore/cum slut)

Cock-warming (for when characters want to be extra close during cuddles (;)

Public sex! (Obviously not when people are watching, but sex on an empty beach, or fucking in the bathroom at a club/party is ok!)

These aren’t the only kinks I’ll do! Any others just talk to me about and I’ll be open minded about it!

-Detailed thoughts/feelings!

Don’t just say “I smiled” say things like “I smiled, my perfectly white teeth in view the way you loved, my mood brightened by your compliment.” It makes everything more fun! I’m a slut for detail (;

- Tell me if you don’t like the way my charicter is acting/being played, or portrayed, and I will fix it to the exact way you want the character to be, I thrive on constructive critisism.

Most of my role-play partners find it offensive when I tell them for instance their character isn’t romantic/loving enough, please don’t be! I try to put it to you as gentle as I can, and if I’ve see your best, and your giving me half effort, I’m only trying to make sure everything is ok!

- Talk to me! Message me about how much you love the boys/ your sunshine! I’d love to be your friend and not just your role-play partner!

- Add as much detail as you want!

My reply’s length mirrors yours! So if you send me half a page, I’ll send half a page back, if you send me 2 messages that both hit character limit- I’ll do the same.

- Be as dramatic as you want!

If you want to say “my teardrops were falling like rain drops on a car window in a thunderstorm” then please reply like that! I love dramatic styles of writing, it’s so fun!

- Use I/you pronouns

I’m ok with “I looked at her with that dark, hungry look in my eye.”, but I would prefer it to be “I looked at you with that dark, hungry look in my eye.”

- Play in first person!

First person is the only role play style I do.

- Build your muse a back story!

I really, really, really love back story’s. Really detailed ones to be exact. Your muse talking to mine about their life before them is so interesting to me.

- This is gonna sound pretty brutal, but if your muse was sexually/physically/emotionally/mentally abused by a parent/relative/ex bf or gf and is opening up to my muse about it feel free to explain it in detail, I love hearing it, and having my muse be helpful and sympathetic about it.

- Use pictures/gifs if you want! You can use this for;

Face claims

Smut scenes

Outfits

Bedrooms

Houses

Pets

Anything really!

No no’s:

- Your character being a horrible person, this includes

Being a former rapist.

Being a bully.

Being abusive.

Being a serial killer.

Being a hit-man.

Triggers:

- I’m lucky enough to not have any! I love brutal gory stuff, (I’m going to be majoring in psychology in college, so making another mind is really interesting to me)

- Acceptable plot twists/tragedies to me include:

Car accidents

Cancer (I’ll do it, but I’ll most likely time skip as I have had family members with cancer and it’s quite sad to see someone die slowly and painfully/go through something so tragic)

Rape (not your muse to mine but a random person raping my muse is ok)

Hurricanes, tornados, Wild fires, House fires.

School shootings (these are hard for me to deal with as it’s my biggest fear, but I can do it if I keep reminding myself that this is only role play)

Terrorist attacks (same as school shootings)

Mental illness (bipolar disorder, schitzophranic disorder, manic episodes, any other mental illness)

House break ins/ robberies

Being held captive

Plane crashes

Child deaths (this one is really hard, but provides a lot of character growth)

Pet deaths (same as child deaths)

Marijuana use

Cigarettes

Drug abuse

Alcohol abuse/alcoholism

If you aren’t interested/are triggered by any of these things let me know! I will steer clear of them, I promise!

My plot interests

- Cliche plots! This includes;

High-school AU’s

Collage AU’s

Gang AU’s

- Age gaps!

I’m okay with 3-5 years difference, but the older has to be the dominate, and the younger or older can’t be younger then 18.

Age differences more then 5 years won’t be tolerated.

- bxb (; my ships are:

Cashton

Lashton

Cake

If I’m playing Cashton, ashton would be the dominate, same for Lashton, for Cake, Calum would be the dominate.

- For bxb my muse will always be gay and very very fem.

- I’m open to any plot ideas you have!

Post continued here!

#5sos #calum hood #michael clifford #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #5sos rp #5sos roleplay #5 seconds of summer role play #5 seconds of summer rp #ashton irwin role play #calum hood role play #michael clifford role play #luke hemmings role play #role play #kik role play #rp #kik rp #5sos fam #5sos fandom

6 notes · View notes

ikiaikainen · 6 years

Text

Planchette

A short story of a lonely, ill boy who consults the ouija board in order to get a friend. (2017)

Featured on my oneshot collection Something Strange on Tapas.

Albert had always known of his mother's spirit board; it's not like her attempts to hide it were great in the first place. Said board was stored inside a small, locked trunk in the attic, and the key to open it had carelessly been placed in mother's box of jewelery and other small trinkets she certainly liked, but hardly ever used.

As such, taking the key from the box was undoubtedly the easiest part of this whole scheme Albert had carefully crafted in the past week.

The hardest part was to make the board work while doing it alone. These boards, at least according to his classmates, operated on group energy, and so doing it alone would defeat the purpose. But the whole reason Albert even wanted to use the ominous board in the first place was to have a friend (since he had none), and so he had no other choice but to try it alone.

"Never use the board at home," he had once heard a classmate tell another. "Otherwise you might invite a demon into your house."

"That sounds great," Albert had thought upon hearing this exchange. A demon in the house was certainly better than nobody.

Albert had chosen their home basement as the ideal place to use the board, as the mood of the place was perfect: quiet and eerie, no other location within the large house had quite the same feeling of ominousity and dread as this one had. As younger, Albert had been convinced the entire basement was haunted and that a hideous child-eating monster lived there. He wasn't sure at what point he stopped being afraid of the basement, but it might have been the time when he realized it was the least likely place his father would visit whenever intoxicated and aggressive.

Albert had lit a few candles here and there to give light in the otherwise dark cellar, the old board now resting on the floor and surrounded by candles. The flames flickered in careful motions, indicating the basement wasn't entirely windproof: there had to be a hole somewhere within the old, cold walls of it, but Albert couldn't tell where exactly this spot was.

On top of the board a small planchette rested, carefully placed in the middle and waiting to be used. Albert felt a little nervous (and somewhat foolish) about all this, but the idea of finally having someone, anyone, to talk to was making him determined to go through with his plan. The boy inhaled deeply and then exhaled, collecting himself for this hopefully historical moment where he would finally get a friend of his own.

Gently, Albert touched the planchette on the board and started moving it in a circle very slowly, clockwise and three times. He then cleared his throat in an almost ceremonial manner, and with the squeaky voice of a middle schooler he was, Albert spoke: "Is there anyone here with me?"

No answer.

Albert tried again, this time with more courage: "Is there someone, anyone, here with me?"

Still no answer, and Albert could feel the uncomfortable cold sweat starting to fall down on his back. After having gone through all the trouble to start this, however, he had no intentions to stop the game just yet.

For the third time, Albert called out: "Is there anyone here with me?"

What happened next was something Albert couldn't quite put into words: it was almost like the planchette itself had started to move, but simultaneously it was as if his own hand had stopped cooperating with him and was now leading the small piece of wood across the board, all the way to the left side with the text "NO" written on it.

"Very funny," Albert said with a frown, but after the initial mix of amusement and annoyance, the boy started to realize there indeed was someone with him - and that someone had immediately started messing with him.

"Do you have a name?" he asked, and the planchette moved towards "YES" on the right top corner of the board.

"What is it?" Albert then asked as a follow-up to his previous question. One by one, the board spelled out W-I-N-S-D-T-O-N, but Albert wasn't sure if the spirit just didn't know how to spell, if it was messing with him again or if he had just looked at the letters wrong. He decided to gamble on it, and responded to the supposed spirit in the room: "Your name is Winston?"

The board moved to "YES" once again, and Albert figured he himself was probably the one who couldn't spell properly, and he really wished he could go to school more often. Staying at home all the time made him slightly less intelligent at an alarming rate, or so he often felt.

"Nice. Uh, mine is Albert," he finally replied and nodded awkwardly to the blank space on the other side of the board. Albert was certain the spirit was right there in front of him, although he couldn't have explained why or how he thought this way.

"How old are you? I'm 13, turning 14 soon," the boy then spoke to the board once again.

The board, in turn, spelled out 1-7.

"You're pretty old," Albert replied. "How long have you been 17?"

"F-O-R-S-O-M-E-T-I-M-E," the board replied.

"Does it suck to be dead?"

"YES"

Albert nodded knowingly.

"Then, Winston, um... Would you like to be my friend?"

Finally, the question he had wanted to ask since the beginning. Albert closed his right hand into a fist and waited anxiously for the answer, left hand resting on top of the planchette.

"W-H-Y," Winston seemed to ask.

"Uh...," Albert started hesitantly. "I have no friends."

"W-H-Y," the board spelled out again.

"I'm sick," the boy replied sadly. "And weird. But mostly sick. I'm not allowed to go to school really often, so nobody wants to hang around with someone like that."

He took a small pause, and then added with a slightly shaky voice: "And they say you shouldn't get attached to someone who might die at any point."

Albert felt the tingling under his fingers again, and the board replied:

W-A-N-T-T-O-K-N-O-W-W-H-E-N-Y-O-U-D-I-E"

Albert shook his head. "No thank you."

"W-H-Y"

"I don't think I'd be able to do anything useful with that information," he explained and shrugged. "I would spend the rest of my days being afraid of dying and waiting for the time it comes, and I'd forget to live while I'm still alive."

"S-M-A-R-T-B-O-Y," Winston replied, and Albert couldn't help but feel a little proud of his answer, and found himself puffing up his chest a little.

"So, um, yes... I have no friends because of that. And I was wondering if you'd like to be my friend?"

Winston seemed to think for a while, and during this moment of thoughtful silence Albert wished he would have been able to see Winston: what kind of face was he making right now? And what colour was his hair? Was Winston tall? They weren't even friends yet, but Albert wanted to know this and a lot of more about Winston. Did he like dogs? Or was he more of a cat person? Was he able to play an instrument while alive? Did he read books?

Albert's excited line of thought was interrupted when the wooden piece under his left hand finally started moving, but what it spelled out puzzled Albert.

"D-O-Y-O-U-T-R-U-S-T-M-E"

"I don't know," the boy stated rather nonchalantly. "I mean we just met. Do you usually trust people the moment you meet them?"

"NO"

"Why do you ask?"

But there was no answer, and Albert thought it was better to continue being persistent about his own question instead.

"Will you be my friend? Y-you can say no too if you want." Albert's reassuring words were betrayed by his sad tone of voice: he didn't want to think he would never speak to Winston after this. He was already closer to the spirit than he had ever been to his classmates; at least Winston had spoken to him more than just two words.

"A-R-E-Y-O-U-A-F-R-A-I-D-O-F-M-E"

"Nope, not really. Or should I be? Are you an evil spirit?"

"W-H-O-K-N-O-W-S," Winston answered, and after a short pause the planchette moved again:

"D-O-E-S-I-T-M-A-T-T-E-R-T-O-Y-O-U"

Albert smiled: "No, it doesn't. An evil spirit as a friend is better than no friend at all."

"I-S-T-H-A-T-S-O"

"I think so, yes."

"W-A-I-T-S-T-I-L-L"

Albert didn't know what this meant, but he saw no reason to decline. He sat still, looking at the board and the flickering lights around it, unsure whether the dancing flames were still a result of the draft inside the basement, or due to Winston's otherworldly presence. He tried to listen if some sort of sound colld be heard, but it was just as silent in the cellar as it had been when he arrived there, as if the entire space was completely cut away from the rest of the world, wrapped in by the darkness and silence.

Then, without any warning, one of the candles near Albert died out. It was as if someone had blown it out and soon another candle from Albert's other side was also snuffed out of light. Albert shivered a little, feeling how his heart rate was going higher once more as he looked at blown out candles.

"D-did you do that, Winston?" he gasped, his hand still resting on top of the wooden planchette.

"YES" the board spelled.

Albert felt like Winston was almost smug about what he had done, even though he had no way of telling. Nevertheless, Albert could just imagine a boy older than him, smirking in front of him after performing a creepy trick to scare the younger one - almost like a big brother, even.

"That was a little scary," the boy finally admitted, but didn't forget to add: "But also really cool! You're a really strong spirit, aren't you?"

"T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U"

"I'm not afraid of you, even if you were an evil spirit, Winston! Just please tell me if you accept to be my friend or not," he finally found himself whimpering, unable to wait for the answer any longer. He had hoped to sound brave and heroic while speaking out the words, but instead his voice was weak and shaky, and above all tired as his stamina was slowly running out.

The board went eerily silent, and for a good minute there was no answer. None of the candles moved, there were no odd noises and the room's ambience was exactly the same as before, making Albert certain Winston was still present; just silent.

Finally, the board spelled:

"F-R-I-E-N-D"

And then it continued with three words: "A-L-B-E-R-T", "W-I-N-S-T-O-N" and "F-R-I-E-N-D-S"

"Would you really?!" Albert gasped in awe.

"YES" Winston replied.

"Thank you Winston! You're my first friend!" Albert found himself tearing up a little, and with his bandaged right hand he wiped away the tears from his eyes.

"I hope you aren't tired. Do you want to talk more with me tomorrow?"

"W-H-Y-T-O-M-O-R-R-OW"

"I'm starting to get a little exhausted... I should go to bed or I'll faint here," he admitted somewhat sadly, head hanging low. The rapid heartbeat was still there, and it didn't do good for him to get this excited.

"T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W"

Albert smiled from ear to ear, taking this answer as a yes.

"Bye then, Winston! See you tomorrow!" he grinned tiredly.

"GOODBYE" the board replied, and all the candles were suddenly blown out, leaving Albert into the dark basement without a single source of light.

He dug up a matchbox out of his pocket and set fire on one of the candle, and Albert couldn't help but notice a shadow moving fast from the corner of his eye, hiding into where the candle's light didn't reach. The presence of Winston still lingered in the room, and for a short moment Albert felt something akin to fear crawling up his back.

"No," he told himself firmly and then shook his head. "Winston is my friend. There is no need to fear."

But even then, when Albert finally left the basement and returned to his own room, he couldn't push away the lingering uneasiness in his body - and rightfully so, as he had just talked with a spirit. Albert's whole body shivered, and when the coughing fit started, he blamed himself for getting too worked up over the events of the past few hours; the iron taste of fresh blood in his mouth was the price of making his very first friend.

Albert couldn't help but wonder if this would remain as the only payment for what he had done. After all, nothing in this world came for free, and fatigue and blood were hardly the equivalent of a bond formed with a spirit.

Hearing the sound of his parents fighting outside his room, however, reminded Albert there wasn't much to lose anymore at this point.

#writing #short story #ouija board #supernatural #2017 #oneshot #not oc related #something strange

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esonetwork · 3 years

Text

Timestamp #220: A Christmas Carol

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-220-a-christmas-carol/

Timestamp #220: A Christmas Carol

Doctor Who: A Christmas Carol (Christmas Special, 2010)

Three spirits, a Christmas miracle, and a sonic shark.

A passenger liner is plummeting toward the surface of an unknown turbulent planet. The captain cancels Christmas as she attempts to save the ship, and as she detects a distress signal from the honeymoon suite, Amy and Rory race in wearing their fun costumes of a kiss-o-gram cop and a centurion.

The distress signal they sent summons the Doctor who signals the ship with a simple text: “Come along, Pond.”

On the surface is a village in the throes of a Christmas Eve celebration. The planet and the artificial storm when the cruiseliner is trapped are owned by Karzan Sardick, a wealthy and heartless man who acts as a loanshark through a business he inherited. To secure the the loans, he cryogenically freezes family members of the borrowers as collateral.

As one family begs for their family to be thawed for a day, the Doctor arrives via chimney. Sardick has denied the cruiseliner permission to be rescued, and the Doctor’s attention bounces from the poor family to the storm machine and the frozen girl. Sardick says that the girl is not important, but the Doctor replies that he has never met anyone who wasn’t important.

The machine’s controls are isomorphic and coded to Sardick alone. The Doctor tries to appeal to his better nature, but Sardick ejects the family and the Doctor with a bout of violence. When Sardick refrains from striking the young boy as the family leaves, the Doctor sees a crack in Sardick’s façade.

The Doctor touches base with the Ponds before being warned to seek cover for the night. After all, the fish that swim through the clouds are particularly fervent tonight. The Doctor is inspired by a Christmas carol playing on the loudspeakers and launches a plan to save the cruiseliner.

Sardick awakens to find his dream projected on the wall of his study. When he was twelve, he wanted to film one of the sky fish, but his father punished him by striking the boy and sealing his window. The Doctor plumbs the depths of this memory, then boards the TARDIS and travels back in time to Sardick’s boyhood, right into the film being projected.

Acting as young Sardick’s babysitter, the Doctor decides to make the boy’s dream come true. Using the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor lures a sky fish in through the window while he and Sardick hide in the wardrobe. The boy is interested in seeing the fish because he missed his chance by being sick at school on the day his class got to see them. When the sky fish nibbles on the line, the Doctor leaves the wardrobe to investigate. He surmises that the fish travels on electrical currents generated in the atmosphere’s high water content. His investigation is cut short by a large shark that eats the little fish and chases the Doctor back into the wardrobe.

On the one hand, the Doctor is pleased because he has a better understanding of the clouds and can analyze the readings (once he retrieves his sonic screwdriver from the shark). On the other hand, the shark rams the wardrobe and pins its occupants against the wall. The Doctor bravely dives into the shark and retrieves half the sonic, but he and young Sardick lament the fact that the shark is dying after being out of the clouds for so long.

As a life support measure, the boy takes the Doctor to the vault where all of the collateral is kept. He travels forward briefly to get the code to the door from the older Sardick, then enters the vault with the boy in the past. The shark has followed them, lured by the fog emanating from the open vault. After a brief chase, the shark is lulled to sleep by the song of Abigail Pettigrew, one of the frozen who has been freed.

The Doctor realizes that singing induces a sympathetic harmonic that the fish like, which is the same principle that drives the cloud machine in the future. The Doctor puts the shark in Abigail’s box and takes his new companions on a ride in the TARDIS. Meanwhile, in the future, Abigail’s portrait has appeared on the elder Sardick’s wall. The shark is set free and Abigail is returned to her box with a promise that they will return every Christmas.

Sure enough, the Doctor and Sardick awaken Abigail one year later, unaware of the countdown on her box. They call the shark with the sonic and take a sleigh ride. The tradition continues as Sardick ages and his future self marvels over the new memories, ranging from New York to the Pyramids.

One year, Abigail asks to see her family again. She weeps as she watches her family have the life she can never have, and Sardick consoles her. The Doctor arranges a small celebration with Abigail’s family. Abigail explains her situation and vouches for Sardick’s character, and the group shares a holiday dinner before Abigail returns to her box with a kiss for Sardick.

The next year brings a Hollywood party for the trio. Abigail nearly reveals the truth about her life to Sardick, but they are forced to leave early since the Doctor has inadvertently become engaged to Marilyn Monroe. Abigail knows that there is nothing to be done, and as Sardick returns Abigail to her box, he tells the Doctor that he’d like to break the tradition in favor of working on the cloud machine.

The Doctor is sad that Sardick hasn’t evolved from his future attitudes, but gives the man his broken sonic screwdriver as he leaves. In the future, the portrait reverts from Abigail’s to Sardick’s father. One year later, the Sardicks complete work on the machine, and while the younger man considers calling the Doctor and resuming the tradition, he turns away.

The future Sardick digs the abandoned sonic out of his drawer, rejects another plea from the cruiseliner, and then meets the Ghost of Christmas Present… or rather, Amy’s hologram. She projects the crew and passengers into the vault, singing Silent Night as a further plea for their lives. The Doctor has told Amy about Abigail and Sardick tells her about Abigail’s terminal illness. The countdown has been tracking the number of days Abigail has to leave.

Amy and Rory reverse the transmission to bring Sardick’s hologram to the ship’s bridge. When Sardick is not swayed, he’s returned to the vault to face the Doctor. The Time Lord apologizes, but then brings the cruel man face to face with his twelve-year-old self. The elder’s heart is broken and he apologizes to his younger self.

The elder Sardick attempts to save the ship but the machine no longer recognizes him since he’s changed so much. Sardick flashes the sonic screwdriver and the Doctor realizes that the other half is still in the shark. Unfortunately, to lure the shark, they need Abigail’s song. The Sardicks release her, knowing that her death is imminent, but Abigail is overjoyed to spend one last Christmas with the man she loves.

Abigail’s song is broadcast into the clouds through the sonic screwdriver, drawing the two halves together. The resonance induces a Christmas snow to fall. High above, the cruiseliner stabilizes and everyone aboard celebrates. As the Christmas mood spreads through the village, the Doctor takes the younger Sardick home.

Some time later, the Ponds reunite with the Doctor. The Time Lord rejects a phone call from Marilyn Monroe, absolutely convinced that it wasn’t a real chapel after all. As the travelers depart for their next adventure, Sardick and Abigail sail the skies in a shark-drawn sleigh.

Steven Moffat promised that this holiday story would be the most “Christmassy Christmas special ever” and “all your favourite Christmas movies at once, in an hour, with monsters and the Doctor and a honeymoon.”

Mission accomplished.

There have been countless adaptations of Charles Dickens’s famous novel, and this one adds a Doctor Who flair to the timeless tale. Karzan Sardick takes the Scrooge journey courtesy of the Christmas Ghosts: The Doctor takes the role of the Ghost of Christmas Past, Amy is the Ghost of Christmas Present, and Sardick himself becomes the Ghost of Christmas Future (or Christmas Yet to Come). In a sense, Abigail fills the roles of Jacob Marley and “Tiny Tim” Cratchit.

The redemption story is touching and drew me in because of the unique take. We get to watch Scrooge evolve and grow as the Doctor brings the trademark love and compassion to bear. The tragedy of the love affair is heartbreaking, played so well by both Michael Gambon and Danny Horn as both versions of Sardick live through the memories. Katherine Jenkins absolutely sells the empathetic Abigail.

I love the nods throughout this celebration. We’ve heard about the Doctor’s friendship with Albert Einstein before (Time and the Rani), the sonic screwdriver gets destroyed (The Visitation, Smith and Jones, The Eleventh Hour), the psychic paper once again proves not to be infallible (Army of Ghosts, The Shakespeare Code, The Vampires of Venice), and the Fourth Doctor gets a beautiful yet subtle tribute with long scarves as Abigail’s clock ticks to 004.

I could have sworn that Silent Night had been in Doctor Who before now, but research says that I was wrong.

Finally, I’d be remiss not to note Dumbledore. Okay, okay, not quite the wizard, but definitely Michael Gambon, who was far more sinister here than in his five appearances in the Harry Potter films. I love seeing actors I know in productions and roles that are so different than what I’ve seen from them before, and this was no exception.

Rating: 5/5 – “Fantastic!”

UP NEXT – Doctor Who: The Impossible Astronaut & Doctor Who: Day of the Moon

The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

#Doctor Who #Timestamps Project

0 notes

imagineteamfreewill · 7 years

Text

Fight For Him

Title: Fight for Him

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Word Count: 4,127

Warnings: Mention of psychiatric wards, pills, sedatives, misuse of mental illness treatments, and Hallucifer. All these things were originally part of the show and do not go beyond the context of the episode.

Summary: This is based around 7x17, where Sam is dealing with Hallucifer. All I’ve done is add a reader and skip over some parts to keep it somewhat short!

A/N: This is my (super late) submission for @impalaimagining ’s FRIENDS quotes challenge! My prompt was #3: “Chances are he’s gonna be this broken shell of a man.” The quote is bolded. Hope you guys enjoy! Feedback is always welcome.

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

_______________

Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the light to turn green again. You glanced over at him, sensing his anxiety, then resumed chewing on your bottom lip. Something about the way he’d been silent the whole drive unnerved you.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

His sudden question made you jump, and he quickly apologized. You nodded in response before taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly to calm yourself.

“I’m sure, Dean,” you replied. “Sam and I have been dating for almost three years now. I’m not going to leave him in a…” You trailed off, not wanting to even say the words aloud. After shaking your head, you continued, “If I were alone like he is right now, I’d be terrified, especially after what he’s been dealing with.”

Dean nodded in acknowledgment before pressing his foot down on the gas. The Impala sped forward again, crossing the intersection and then following Dean’s commands as he drove into the hospital’s parking lot. Your breath caught in your throat as you passed the lit sign at the entrance, and you had to close your eyes against the tears that threatened to escape.

Northern Indiana State Hospital. It’s just another hospital, Y/N, you thought, trying desperately to convince yourself everything was alright. It’s just another injury, just another hospital. We’ll be in and out.

After parking the car, you and Dean both climbed out and headed toward the main entrance of the building. You followed him the whole way there, but when Dean opened up the big glass door for you to go in first, you froze.

“Y/N?” he asked. You met his eyes, instantly noticing the confusion and worry plastered all over his face. “Y/N… You don’t have to come in if you don’t want. Sam would understand.”

Shaking your head, you stuffed your hands in the pocket of your jacket to hide their shaking. “No, Dean. I— I have to come in. It’s Sam.”

Dean watched you for a moment before letting go of the door and allowing it to swing shut again. Coming over to you, he took your arm and let you over to a metal bench on the edge of the wide sidewalk, then sat down. You sat down beside him and looked down at your shoes, your knee bouncing as anxiety threaded its way through your veins.

“Listen, Y/N. This is something we’ve never faced before, and it’s okay to be scared. I mean… Chances are he’s gonna be a broken shell of a man.”

You looked up at Dean, shocked at his words. His green eyes were filled with sadness and you swallowed hard, feeling your tears return.

“I can’t believe you’d say something like that,” you choked out. Dean sighed and looked down at the cement. “He’s your brother and you’re giving up on him.”

“I’m not giving up on Sammy,” Dean replied, his voice harsh. “I’m not giving up on him. I just wanted to make sure you’re prepared to see him. I’m just telling you what the doctor told me when I was here yesterday, and—”

“That’s not what the doctor told you, Dean!” you snapped, jerking to your feet. “He did not tell you that Sam was broken!”

Dean didn’t respond. You watched as he clenched his jaw, clearly trying not to say anything else, then stomped off into the hospital, leaving him sitting on the bench. You didn’t bother to stop and check whether or not he had followed you; you simply got a visitor’s pass and followed the directions of the woman who had been sitting behind the front desk.

By the time you arrived at the security desk on the third floor, however, any anger you’d felt toward Dean was long gone. It had been replaced once more by the fear that made you want to turn on your heel and go right back out to the Impala, but before you could make up your mind on what to do, the guard was already ushering you into the locked ward.

You followed him throughout the dingy, narrow hallways, eventually stopping outside room 372. The guard gestured for you to enter, and after a long moment, you stepped inside.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched forward as the nurse in front of him held out a tray with two cups on it—one with pills and one half-full of water. You watched from the doorway as he reached forward and took the water cup, then took the pills all in one swallow. He was mid-yawn when something only he could see and hear made him flinch, and you noticed almost immediately how the expression on the nurse’s face remained impassive. She was clearly used to things like this, and you wondered if she often dealt with things like whatever Sam was dealing with.

Silently, you wrapped your arms around your stomach, unsure of what to say or do. Do I talk to her first? Or Sam? Will he even respond to me?

“Miss?” You looked up to see the nurse watching you with a soft smile. “Can I help you?”

“I—” Suddenly, you were at a loss for words, and all the emotions you’d been feeling since Dean had called you to explain what had happened welled up inside of you. All you could do was cover your mouth so that a sob wouldn’t escape.

The nurse’s polite smile turned sympathetic just as Dean came up behind you. He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently. “We’re family,” he told her. She nodded and asked Sam if he needed anything before slipping out of the open doorway behind you.

Sam didn’t react to the nurse leaving, nor did he react to the knowledge that you and Dean were in the room with him. After a moment, Dean let go of you and went over by his brother, sitting in the empty space on the bed beside him. You watched as Dean placed his hand on Sam’s knee, evoking a small flinch from him.

“I’m gonna find you help, Sammy,” Dean said, his voice gentle but firm.

The room was silent for a long moment. “You can’t help me, Dean. We knew this was going to happen,” Sam finally replied.

You closed your eyes as his rough voice washed over you. It was tired. He was worn down and exhausted, more than you’d ever seen. Dean had explained in the car that Sam had originally been admitted for broken ribs and some lacerations, only to then be admitted into the locked psychiatric ward for a psychotic episode. Your boyfriend hadn’t slept in days, and the heavy medical sedatives they’d pumped him full of hadn’t affected him in the slightest.

“We’re gonna find something,” you murmured.

Sam flinched at the sound of your voice. Bringing his bandaged hands up to his ears, he pressed them hard against your head and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Sam?” you asked, confused. You stepped forward, then moved around the bed so you could squat down in front of him. As gentle as you could, you reached out and touched Sam’s wrist. He flinched away again, his eyes wide and full of fear.

“You’re not real. It’s not real,” he repeated. “You’re not real.”

Your heart sunk in your chest. Silently, Dean helped you straighten up, then stood himself as Sam clambered back on the bed.

“None of this is real. You’re not real,” Sam stammered.

You swallowed hard and opened your mouth to speak, only to be stopped by Dean, who said, “She’s just as real as I am, Sammy. You can touch her. Y/N’s not gonna hurt you. Right, Y/N?”

Shaking your head a little, you slowly sat on the edge of Sam’s bed, right near his feet. Hesitantly, he sat up and reached a hand out toward you, then gently brushed your hair over your shoulder so it dangled down your back. Sam swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, flinching slightly at whatever he was hearing. The sight made your chest tighten and your eyes burn with tears.

“Sam,” you whispered. “Sam, please look at me. I can’t—”

It took a few seconds, but Sam slowly opened his eyes and met yours. His breath hitched in his chest and you gave him a tentative, watery smile when you realized that he was really seeing you.

“It’s okay. I’m here. It’s really me.”

Sam reached out and pulled you against his chest as tight as he could. You could tell that he was even worse than he looked because he would have crushed you any other time, but now it felt as if he were barely holding onto you.

Dean cleared his throat after a while, and you slowly extracted yourself from Sam’s feeble grip. You pressed a kiss against his forehead and cupped his face in your hands when his eyes drifted to the desk in the corner of the room.

“Hey,” you said, waiting until his gaze was back on you. “He’s not real. You can do this. We’re gonna find something to help. Don’t give up on me, okay, Sam? I love you, and I’m not giving up on you.” Sam nodded in response. You kissed his cheek before climbing off the bed, trying to shiver at the feeling of Sam’s fingers brushing against the bare skin revealed by your top. His touch was cold and it reminded you of a corpse; Dean was right—Sam was giving up, and he was empty inside. He was scared and tired of fighting, and the thought made you want to curl up and cry.

Something inside of you snapped as soon as you thought that. You couldn’t cry now. You had to fight for Sam. He couldn’t fight for himself, and the number of times that he hadn’t given up on you was more than you could count. Now it was your turn to fight for him, and you weren’t about to let someone you couldn’t even see win this fight.

_______________

A few days later, you and Dean were driving back the same road to the hospital, this time with Cas in tow. He didn’t recognize either of you—just another hurt to add to the growing pile in your life—but now you had hope that he could heal Sam and you could have your boyfriend back once more.

“So… You and this Sam… You’re a couple?” Cas asked, his eyebrows pushed together in confusion.

You nodded. “We’ve been dating for three years. Our anniversary was yesterday, actually,” you added. You looked down at your hands and took a deep breath, trying not to cry. You’d already cried twice since morning, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself any further. Dean would try to comfort you, much to no avail, and Cas still didn’t have a good grasp on human emotion, even if he did think that he was human. Neither one of them would be able to help you reign in the overwhelming emotions you were still trying to process yourself, so you simply closed your eyes and gripped your fingers tighter to stop the tears from slipping out.

“That’s a very long time,” Cas replied. “You must love him a lot.”

Opening your eyes, you gave him a feeble smile in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, I do. We were talking about getting married before…”

You stopped yourself from finishing the sentence when you noticed Dean’s white-knuckled grip on the Impala’s steering wheel. He’d been carefully avoiding the subject of Sam’s once-missing soul ever since the two of you had picked up Cas. Since Cas had no memory of his life before he’d died after playing God, neither one of you wanted to dredge up the things that had happened between you. If Cas knew that he’d left the three of you on bad terms, he may never be willing to help Sam, and then you’d be back to square one.

“We’re almost there. Just gotta make a quick stop,” Dean said, startling you. You nodded in response and stayed silent as he pulled the car into a parking lot and climbed out. He headed into a convenience store across the street, leaving you to sit in the quiet with Cas, who didn’t seem too keen on talking. So, you simply kept your thoughts to yourself and waited until Dean was walking back toward the Impala, only this time with Meg at his side.

Swallowing hard, you opened the passenger door and got out. “What’s she doing here?” you asked, not bothering to keep the hard edge out of your voice. You’d never been fond of the demon, and the smirk she gave you in response to your question was enough to make your blood boil.

“Easy,” Dean ordered, holding up a hand to placate you. “She’s backup. You’re in no condition to fight, Y/N. I know that you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I’ve been sleeping just fine,” you quipped. Crossing your arms over your chest, you watched Meg carefully, noting how she was eyeing something just over your shoulder. Curious, you turned to see that Cas had gotten out of the Impala as well. He was looking at Meg with obvious trepidation in his bright blue eyes.

“She’s a demon, Dean,” he said, obviously still clueless as to his and Meg’s prior relationship.

Dean nodded. “She’s a friend, Emmanuel.”

You had to bite down on your cheek to keep yourself from correcting him when he used Cas’ fake name. You hated the sound of it. Even though you hadn’t parted as friends, you still thought of Cas as part of your family, and you desperately wanted him to remember all the good times you’d had before he’d become God.

“I see,” Cas murmured. He watched Meg suspiciously, still unsure if she truly was a friend. His only encounter with demons so far hadn’t been a positive one—not that you’d ever met a positive demon, you noted—and if you were him, you’d be suspicious of the petite brunette, too. She was sizing him up like a piece of meat, and just the vague idea of what she could be thinking about made your stomach churn.

“Alright, let’s get going. We’ve got lots of road to cover,” Dean said, clapping his hands together to get your attention. You nodded dumbly and headed back to the Impala, this time climbing into the backseat when Dean gestured for you to do so. You knew that he didn’t want Meg and Cas together in case she decided to do something very demon-like and jog his memory.

The car ride to the hospital was uneventful, but still full of tense moments as Meg did everything she could to get on Dean’s nerves. He was already high-strung and stressed out, and you held your breath practically the whole time. Cas was your only hope at this point, and if Meg jogged his memory and he remembered what he’d done to you, Sam, and Dean, he could run. You had to make it to the hospital without letting him figure out who he truly was and what he’d done if Sam was ever going to have a chance at living his life again.

_______________

Sam was in even worse condition than when you and Dean had left days ago, and the sight of him lying on his bed made your chest hurt. He’d lost a lot of muscle mass—he hadn’t been eating or sleeping, you figured—and he looked like some of the people you rescued after they’d been held captive by a monster. The expression in his usually bright hazel eyes was one of pure terror.

Cas had found him in a tiny room in the deep recesses of the psychiatric ward. A demon disguised as a nurse had strapped him down to a machine that delivered electroshock therapy, which had worried you enough when Cas had told you, but when you’d found out that the demon had turned it up to full strength you’d almost collapsed. You couldn’t imagine the amount of pain that Sam had been subjected to; Cas had mentioned that Sam’s brain would have been permanently damaged—almost melted—had he not been able to heal some of Sam’s more physical injuries. He hadn’t, however, been able to make any of Sam’s mental struggles any better.

“This isn’t something I can make disappear,” Cas murmured. “I’m sorry.”

You tore your eyes away from Sam to look over at him and Dean, who were standing in the corner together, quietly discussing what to do next. Cas was wearing his trenchcoat again, and you would have been happy to see him looking almost like his old self once more had the bloodstains on it not brought up the memories of him betraying you. You didn’t want to think about that; all you wanted to focus on now was getting your boyfriend back.

Swallowing hard, you looked back at Sam. He’s terrified of something I can’t even fight. How am I supposed to help him if I can’t even see what Lucifer is doing to him? Tears pricked your eyes and you hastily wiped them away before stepping closer to the small metal bed.

“Sam?” you called, keeping your voice gentle. His eyes lifted to meet yours, then grew wide with fear. “Sam, it’s me. It’s Y/N. I promise I’m real. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Sam began to shake his head as you grew nearer, and you couldn’t stop the trembling in your voice as you continued, “Sam? Please, I promise I won’t hurt you. I just want to keep you company…”

Before Sam could react any further, Cas pushed past you and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Behind you, Dean asked what he was doing, then asked again when Cas didn’t answer, but all you could do was watch with bated breath as Sam practically shook in terror as Cas said something to him so quietly that you couldn’t make out the words. Sucking in a breath, you covered your mouth with your hand when Cas reached forward and pressed his palm to Sam’s forehead. Red veins of light formed behind Sam’s eyes and threaded up into Castiel’s arm. You held back a sob when Sam lurched upward as if he were a puppet jerked by its strings. It began to slowly disappear, and after a few more seconds, Cas’ hand dropped back down to his lap.

Sam opened his eyes almost immediately and watched Cas with wide, fearful eyes before his gaze shifted over to you. He blinked a few times, clearly confused as to what was going on. “Y/N?” he asked incredulously.

You nodded in response, this time letting yourself begin to cry. He’s back. He’s okay. A smile began to form on your lips and you let out a tiny laugh. We won.

“Dean?” Sam asked, looking over Cas’ other shoulder to meet his brother’s eyes.

“Welcome back, Sammy,” Dean whispered. You could hear the relief in his voice without even seeing his face.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your mouth to say something, only to be stopped when Cas flinched and backed away from Sam. Confused, you stepped over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away from your touch and backed into the corner, bumping into the hospital’s desk.

“Cas? Are you okay?” you questioned, your relief at Sam being back now replaced with fear for Cas. What has he done?

“Brother,” Cas whispered. It only took you a single glance before you realized what had happened.

“He— He took it from me. He replaced my wall with his and now he’s…” Sam trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

“He’s hallucinating like Sam was,” you finished.

Behind you, Dean inhaled sharply and pulled out his phone, then headed into the hallway. Now alone, you looked over at Sam, who had moved to sit on the edge of the hospital bed. You weren’t sure what to say. He’d been a completely different person from the moment that Lucifer had begun to harass him, and you weren’t entirely sure if he even remembered his last few coherent days with you.

“Are you okay?” you finally asked. Sam nodded in response. “Are you… Gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed, his voice barely audible. “I mean, I still remember everything that happened, everything that he said to me—”

“I don’t know what Lucifer said, Sam, but you’re a hero. You saved the world. I love you and we’re gonna be okay. I promise. Okay?”

After a moment, Sam looked up and gave you a tired, shaky smile. “Okay.”

You smiled in return and moved to sit beside him, then leaned your head on Sam’s shoulder. He immediately laced his fingers with yours, and the two of you sat that way in silence until Dean stepped back into the room.

“Meg’s gonna take care of Cas,” he sighed, pocketing his phone.

“Meg?” Sam asked.

Feeling him stiffen slightly, you squeezed Sam’s hand and said, “It’s okay. She’s not the most trustworthy, but she needs our help so she’ll do what we ask, at least for now. Plus, you know that she’s got a thing for Cas,” you added. Sam nodded after a second and squeezed your hand, a little smile on his lips.

“Come on,” Dean ordered, tossing a plastic drawstring bag on the end of the bed.

The three of you pretended not to notice the way Cas flinched.

Silently, Sam reached over with his free hand and took the bag, opening it up to find the clothes he’d arrived at the hospital in. You let go of his other hand so that he could stand and get dressed, then stood yourself and gently helped Cas over to the bed that Sam had just vacated.

It broke your heart to see Cas hurting. You wished that you could help him just like you’d found a way to help Sam, but as you, Sam, and Dean left the room and headed out to the Impala, you realized that the only way you could help Cas is if you went out and searched for something new. There has to be something out there that could free Cas from the hallucinations, you thought.

Sam slid into the backseat with you as you prepared to leave the hospital parking lot. Surprised, you looked over at him.

“I missed you,” he murmured, glancing through the windows at Dean, who was talking to Meg outside the car. “I’m not gonna let a chance to sit this close with you just pass by.”

Laughing softly, you leaned over and pecked Sam’s cheek. “I’m glad. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Better than ever, actually,” Sam admitted. He hesitated before continuing, “Don’t worry about Cas. We’ll find something to help.”

You nodded. “Don’t feel guilty, okay?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows at you, but you knew that he wasn’t as confused as he was pretending to be. “I know that you’re feeling guilty about how Cas took your burden from you, Sam, but it’s not your fault. He did it because he’s our friend and he feels guilty for what happened. None of this is your fault, and right now being guilty isn’t going to help anyone, especially not Cas.”

Sam was silent as he considered your words. After a long moment, he said, “We have a lot of time to make up for. I haven’t really been myself lately, have I?”

You gave Sam a soft smile and wrapped your hands around his. “Yeah, we do. Starting now. You owe me some cuddles,” you grinned. “One hour for each year we’ve been together.”

“I guess I should get comfortable, considering we’ve got three hours of cuddling ahead of us,” Sam laughed, squeezing your hand gently. You laughed in response and waited as he shifted on the leather seat so that you would be comfortable leaning against him.

Once the two of you were settled and Dean had begun driving once more, you breathed in deeply, inhaling Sam’s scent and smiling to yourself. You had missed cuddling with Sam more than anything, and now that you had him back you never wanted to let go. Your smile widened slightly as you listened to the familiar sounds of his breathing and Dean humming in the front seat. The boys were your family, and now that the three of you were together, all you had to do was find something to help Cas so that your little family would once again be whole.

_______________

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