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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

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Title: Pendent.

Written for a very lovely, very patient anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Bokuto/Reader (Haikyuu!!).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: F. Reader, Toxic Relationships, Possessive/Protective Mindsets, Co-Dependency, Non-Consensual Touching, Threats of Violence, Slight Victim Blaming.

[Part One] / [Part Three]

Unfortunately, Bokuto wasn’t very good at his keeping promises.

He tried to, for your sake. He wanted to be a good boyfriend, but he wasn’t perfect, he had his flaws. He was sure you had yours, too, even if they were difficult to find from his perspective – straddling the seat in front of yours, his head on your desk, your fingers idly combing through his hair as you worked on something, an essay or a worksheet or another boring, complicated assignment he didn’t have a chance of helping you with, despite being a year ahead of you. If it was anyone else, he might’ve whined, pouted, gotten distracted and forgot why he bothered to visit you in the first place, but he restrained himself to toying with your sleeve, to listening to the soft, mumbled curses you let out whenever you stumbled onto something you didn’t understand. He liked watching you work. He liked watching you, in general. He liked you.

He was sure he’d like you even more, if you let him take you somewhere a little more private.

Bokuto opened his mouth, ready to buy for your attention, but he was interrupted by a group of boys jeering near the ground of the classroom, girls whispering in the furthest corner, your classmates, your peers, your friends that were forced to a distance by your gentle excuses and Bokuto’s poor reputation, outside of the sport’s sector. He’d promised he wouldn’t be jealous, swore up and down he wouldn’t act like some brooding, possessive jerk, but he could still be annoyed, he was still your boyfriend. He wasn’t jealous, he was just irritated. He wasn’t pestering you because he wanted to get you alone, no, he just wanted to let you focus. He just didn’t want anyone else distracting you, not while he was there.

“(Y/n),” He drawled, earning a hum in response. It was what he expected, your dedication was one of the many things he loved about you, but part of him hated how focused you could be. How hard it was to get your attention, despite your constant reassurance. “Can’t you do this in the courtyard? I’m dyin’, over here.”

“I just need a few more minutes.” That was what you’d said five minutes ago, and five minutes before that, and every five minutes since the first time he thought to ask. “If you’re bored, you could always…. I don’t know, try going to your own class?”

The jab was playful, but Bokuto still sulked, sitting up just enough to lean into your hand, letting you cup his cheek as finally, finally, your eyes shifted from the paper in front of you to him, an exasperated smile already tugging at the corners of your lips. “But then I wouldn’t be with you.” This time, he let himself be shameless about it, pressing a fleeting kiss into the heel of your palm as you flushed, averting your eyes with an unimpressed scoff. “This is your free hour, you can do anything you want! C’mon, there’s this really nice spot by the—”

This time, he was cut off entirely, but not by background noise or distant laughter or something as easily dismissed. No, it was worse than that, more unignorable – your name, shouted across the room from a boy with messy black hair, his smile a little too eager and his voice a little too grating as he called for you again, intent on getting your attention, one way or another. You didn’t seem to mind, popular enough to be used to this kind of thing, but Bokuto’s glare was reflexive, ingrained, as instinctual as he way he barred his teeth as he turned towards—

You caught him by the arm before he could stand up, before he could do anything messy and drastic, your smile never waver. That was why you were the better half. between the two of you. You were just too much of an angel to ever stand back and let someone get what they deserve. “He’s just a friend,” You explained, the clarification unnecessary, but still appreciated. “It’s not every day my boyfriend takes time out of his busy schedule to babysit me. He’s probably just trying to get under my skin.”

It was a conflicting feeling. His heart skipped a beat at the implication, at that soft, casual reminder that you were his and he was yours, but he still didn’t like the idea of someone teasing you, the idea of someone thinking they were good enough to get away with it. He scowled, but you didn’t give him the chance to complain, your fingers already digging into his bicep, urging him to listen. “Please?” You tried, your tone caught somewhere between hopeful and questioning. A queit, optimistic urging you already knew Bokuto couldn’t resist “I’ll make it up to you, but please, let it go.”

He wanted to keep his promise. He really, really wanted to be a good boyfriend.

If this meant he could be a little better, he was willing to give it a shot.

“I’ll try.”

He was telling the truth. He was going to try. He wanted to try.

He was just having a little trouble. It was hard to teach an old dog new tricks, even if Bokuto was desperate to learn. He just needed a little help, and luckily, Bokuto knew just who to go to when he needed help.

“It’s not like I’m tryin’ to hurt her feelings.” It was already late, the sun low in the sky and practice long-since over, but Bokuto’s pace was unhurried as he walked at Akaashi’s side, unrushed, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to care about getting home quickly. Unfortunately, Akaashi was too used to him to complain, only nodding along as Bokuto went on. “I just don’t want anyone else to hurt her feelings, either. If I back off, I gotta take that risk.”

Akaashi was quiet, for a moment, his eyes on the sidewalk. He’d known you longer than Bokuto, technically, been there for you longer than your boyfriend had, and Bokuto would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t feel a pang of resentment because of that. But, Akaashi wasn’t a threat, Akaashi wouldn’t hurt you. If Bokuto couldn’t put a little faith in him, he couldn’t put faith in anyone, and Bokuto wasn’t ready to admit that to himself, just yet. “(Y/n)’s smart,” He started, hesitantly. “If you give her room to breathe, she’ll take care of herself. She likes doing these kinds of things on her own.”

Bokuto knew that. You were shy, despite everything, too much of a sweetheart to ever burden anyone else. Somehow, the reminder did little to ease his nerves. “I can’t do that.” It just wasn’t an option. Akaashi might’ve known you longer, but Bokuto knew you better. It just wouldn’t be the same if he let something come between the two of you. It wouldn’t be good for your relationship, it wouldn’t be good for you. It wouldn’t be good for Bokuto, either, but this wasn’t about him. Or, he’d really like to convince himself it wasn’t, at least. “I mean, it took her months just to talk to me, and you should’ve seen had badly she was tremblin' when she confessed. She’s shy, like that. Poor thing couldn’t make it on her own, not without people like us.”

He glanced toward Akaashi, serving for a small smile, a confident nod, a sign of affirmation, but Akaashi wasn’t next to him, anymore. Glancing over his shoulder, Bokuto found Akaashi behind him, his neutral expression suddenly scrunched, concerned, worried. That was enough to make Bokuto stop, too, his heart tightening in his chest as he turned. “She… She’s just shy, right?” His voice came out uneven, uneasy. He trusted you, obviously. He knew you. He was just willing to admit Akaashi knew you differently. He might’ve known… different parts, things you were too timid to ever show your boyfriend. “I mean, I get that she’s popular, but… She’s gotta be shy, man. That’s why she needs me.”

It took Akaashi a second to respond – a long, painful, agonizing second. It was worse than any injury he’d ever gotten, any sprain or bruise or dislocation. It was pure, unadulterated agony, it was torture, and…

And, it was nothing compared to the way his heart broke, when Akaashi finally opened his mouth.

“There’s something you should know.”

Bokuto was trying. Bokuto was trying so, so, so hard.

He just didn’t know you were going to make it this difficult for him to improve.

Your parents weren’t home. They never seemed to be, not when you asked Bokuto to come over, and not when he showed up on your doorstep, less than an hour after his talk with Akaashi, his face pale and his hands shaking at his sides. Most days, it was a lucky coincidence, just another factor that proved you needed somebody like him to come along and support you, take care of you, love you. Tonight, though, it seemed like a godsend.

He didn’t bother knocking, just scrambling for the spare key you kept under the mat. In the back of his mind, he made a note to badger you about finding a better hiding spot, but that wasn’t important. If anything, your careless behavior served as an advantage, a reinforcement, another reason he was right and Akaashi wasn’t. You needed him. Both of you needed each other.

Your room was on the second floor. If you’d heard Bokuto let himself in, you didn’t bother coming to investigate, letting him drag himself up your staircase and down the hall without any unwanted attention, even if he did find himself lingering in your open doorway when he finally reached it, abruptly unable to make a sound as he took you in. You were beautiful, obviously, you always were, your uniform swapped out for an oversized hoodie, your legs folded and a laptop open on your bed, but he only got a minute to admire you before his shoulder knocked against the doorframe, drawing your attention. It was painful, having to watch you flinch back, your eyes going wide and your lips parting, but you didn’t sound afraid as you leaned towards him, moving to the edge of your bed. “Baby?” You started, startled, but not scared. Never scared. Not of your boyfriend, not of Bokuto. “I didn’t know you were coming over. Everything alright?”

He didn’t answer. His voice would’ve cracked if he tried, and it was easier to force himself to trudge forward, to trip over his own feet as he approached you, barely making it to the edge of the bed before collapsing into your arms, letting you catch him with an airy gasp. He didn’t bother trying to resist the urge to wrap his arms around your waist, to bury his face in the crook of your neck, to bring you closer and keep you closer, despite the feelings of your hands on his shoulders, feebly trying to nudge him away as your heart raced, the sound just a little too loud, just a little too telling. He tried to ignore it. He wanted to ignore it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he had to deal with that, too, on top of everything else.

“C’mon, big guy,” You tried, letting out a small, nervous laugh. “It won’t get better if you don’t talk about it. What’s wrong?”

Looking back, he should’ve been more gentle about it. He should’ve thought of a better way to ask. At the moment, though, it was all he could do to open his mouth and let the words fall out. “Do you love me?”

There was a pause, a hesitation. Suddenly, the sympathy in your voice felt false, too unfaltering to really be believable. “What’re you talking about, Kotaro?”

“Akaashi told me.” You shrunk underneath him, curling into yourself, but Bokuto didn’t let you go, he couldn’t let you go. There was still a chance that Akaashi could’ve been lying, that Bokuto was going to lose his best friend rather than his girlfriend. He’d still be distraught, obviously, but it wouldn’t destroy him, not like this would. Not like this was going to, by the time he was done. “But, he didn’t tell me everything, right? Like, I know my team put you up to it, asking me out and all, but that can’t be the only reason you’re still with me. I’m not in a rut anymore, right? If you didn’t really love me, you wouldn’t still be—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply. “You love me, you have to love me. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be doing this. You gotta love me, at least a little.”

“I don’t want to say this, Bokuto.” His surname. Something twisted in his chest, and for a second, he wondered if it’d be less painful to rip out his own heart and do the work for you. “You’re a really nice guy. You shouldn’t have to hear this from me, if you’re going to hear it from anyone.”

He could’ve laughed. He might’ve, but the noise came out cracked, jarringly stilted, too unintelligible to be recognized. Again, you moved to pull away, to shrug him off completely, but Bokuto didn’t let you. He didn’t want to. “It’s not---”

“It’s over.” You weren’t breaking up with him. You couldn’t be breaking up with him, but it sounded like you were, like you could’ve been trying to. Like you were about to do something shortsighted and cruel, and he wasn’t sure how to stop you. “Your friends noticed you couldn’t play, and they asked me to cheer you up. That’s all it was,” You explained, your tone now light, casual, borderline uncaring. Like you didn’t have a reason to be half as torn up as he was. “I wanted to help. I was going to let you down gently, but then you just got so… intense, I wasn’t sure how to get out.”

“Intense?” He pulled back willingly, if only to make his confusion obvious. “What do you mean, princess?”

A pang of discomfort flashed across your expression. Thankfully, you were kind enough not to correct him. “It’s just… You get so overbearing, sometimes. It was starting to get suffocating.” You sighed, letting yourself close your eyes. Bokuto might’ve winced, if he wasn’t already so spent. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe without having to see you take it out on someone else. It’s better, this way. We’re just not compatible.”

“You love me.” He might’ve been whispering. He might’ve been screaming. Bokuto couldn’t tell – blood was rushing past his ears, clouding his thoughts, making it impossible to hear on anything else. “You love me, just like I love you. You couldn’t have went through with this, if you didn’t. You can’t—” You winced, and Bokuto realized he was digging his nails into your sides, that he was holding you a little too tightly and you probably didn’t like that. Then again, he wasn’t sure what you liked, anymore. He couldn’t be sure you’d ever even liked him. “You need me. We need each other. You can’t just pretend you don’t because of some shitty deal.”

In your defense, you didn’t yell, you didn’t lose your temper. You just shook your head, dropping your gaze to the sheets. “Go home, Bokuto. This is better for both of us. You’ll see that, when you calm down.”

“No, no.” He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to, he needed to show you that the two of you were meant for each other, but you looked so serious, he was forced to shove the feeling down, to stave it off for another few minutes. You weren’t acting like yourself, right now. You thought you didn’t love him. “It’s fine, babe, we’ll talk it out. You just need some time to—”

You didn’t bother to soften the blow, this time. “There’s nothing to talk about. Go home.”

“No.” He was grabbing at your arms before he had a chance to hold himself back, taking you be the shoulders, trying to stop you from doing something reckless. That’s what this was — reckless. You weren’t thinking. You couldn’t be thinking, not if you were about to say something so heartless. “I just need to show you I’m—”

There was a blur of movement, a sharp crack. By the time Bokuto realized what happened, his head was turned to the side, his cheek burning where you palm collided with his skin. Reflexively, he let go of you, moving to nurse his bruised ego, and you didn’t waist time, standing and retreating to the opposite corner of your small bedroom. “Get out.” You were trying to growl. You were trying to intimidate him, you were trying to care your boyfriend. That hurt more than the slap ever could, honestly. “Get out now, before I call the fucking cops.”

It might’ve been the shock. You caught him off-guard, at his lowest, when his resolve was just thin enough to snap, and when you glared, when you looked at him like he would ever hurt you, he’d be lying if he said a part of him didn’t break, shattering and giving away like a thin layer of ice trying to hold something twice its weight. For whatever reason, he didn’t argue, he didn’t even look at you, keeping his eyes on the ground as he pushed himself to his feet. You were being irrational. You didn’t want him to stay, to comfort you, to help you be reasonable.

If he didn’t know better, he might’ve said you didn’t want him at all, anymore.

At least he made it outside before he collapsed, buckling under his own weight as soon as your front door shut behind him. In an instant, his vision blurred, the tightness in his chest turning into a throbbing ache, but he couldn’t seem to care. He couldn’t think. He didn’t want to, not if it meant admitting everything that’d just happened was real.

It was all Bokuto could do to fish his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his contacts blindly until he found what he was looking for. He wasn’t even sure who he planned on calling, not until his phone was already ringing, a familiar, reliable voice immediately picking up, on the other end.

“Akaashi?” His voice cracked, and distantly, he realized he was starting to cry.

“Do you have a minute? I just… I gotta tell you about something.”

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stony-barnes · 3 years

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I’ll Always Be Here

Chris Hemsworth x Reader

Descrition: You’re an up and coming actress who has just been casted as a new hero in Infinity War. You’re so nervous that you’ll mess everything up but thankfully you have your boyfriend there to help you. Hemsworth and you have been dating for a little over a year and he’s been so supportive. How will you fare when you cause production to be halted?

Requested: Yes

By: @maximeevansblog

Warnings: None (I think)

Word Count: 1.3k

“And cut, that was beautiful!” You let out a breath that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as Joe Russo calls cut. You’ve been on edge since filming started and that was twelve hours ago. This is only the second time you’ve been casted and it was for a Marvel movie of all things. You hug Scarlett back as she complimented you on how great you’ve been doing. Thanking her, you head over to hair and make up trying to calm your nerves.

Jesus Christ pull it together you’re a professional for crying out loud. You close your eyes as you let the team do what they need. You feel someone kiss your nose and when you open your eyes you see Chris Hemsworth. It takes everything in you to not smile like an idiot.

“Hey love, what’s got you all tense?” The Aussie accent shining through as his face is etched with worry. You know you should tell him the truth. Tell him how nervous you are for the scene that’s coming up. But you don’t want to see the disappointment on his face when you do.

“Oh it’s nothing, just a tad bit nervous for this scene.” Not entirely a lie. You give him a small smile as the team gives you the all clear to head back to set. It isn’t like you’re afraid to get hurt but you’re afraid you’ll do something to mess it up. You haven’t really had any huge stunt scenes and you wanted to prove to them that you didn’t need a stunt double at all. You wanted to prove that they didn’t make a mistake in casting you.

“What’s there to be nervous about my love? You’ve been killing it all day so there’s no reason you won’t kill it now.” And for some reason that was enough to calm you down. Not entirely, but enough to stop the chatter in your head. You give Chris a quick kiss, heart fluttering everytime your lips meet, as you hear the Russos call everyone back to set.

“Alright, now this is the scene leading into battle in Wakanda. Chadwick, Evans Y/n up front and center.” As the three of head to the front you roll your head around to loosen some of the tension. You feel a nudge on your shoulder and see Evans smiling at you. You smile back and get into the emotion of your character as you hear them say ‘rolling’. You’re already wired and hooked up, all you have to do is time your leap perfectly with theirs and you’ll be golden. “And... action!”

You raise an eyebrow at Chris as he looks ahead at the monsters you’ll be fighting. It’s just blocks suspended up but right now you’re not you and he’s not him. “Think they’ll bow down if we ask nicely?” You make sure to keep your voice even and low. As you grab at the weapons in your costumes holster.

“Not a chance. So keep your eyes sharp and stay calculated.” You sigh and give an affirmative nod as you get into a fighting stance. Unclicking the belt in your holster you take out the fake guns and click them at the same time as if you were unlocking the safety. You hear one the Russo brothers on your side. “Alright guys start sprinting and leap when you come to the dip.”

All three of you take off. Making sure to keep your breathing steady you grunt as you jump. This was the build up of the entire fight. You leap and crash down on one of the blocks and deliver a series of shots to its head, but something goes wrong. You hear a snap and you’re pretty sure you hear Evans yell but you’re too busy falling towards the ground to double check if it was him or not. In order to prevent a too gruesome injury, you turn your body into the fall and you feel a shot of pain go through your shoulder all the way down into your fingertips as your body collides with the ground.

Every sound you hear is distant, even your own whimpering. Your eyes are blurry so it’s hard to see who’s coming at you. But with the feeling of leather gloves grabbing your arms you know it’s Evans. “Hey honey, can you hear me?”

Too hurt to speak, you shakily nod your head. “Ok honey, Hemsworth is talking to the paramedics right now. We’re gonna get you help ok?” You shakily nod your head again as you roll over to your back, waiting for pain to be over.

“Hey love it’s me, they’re just going to place you on the board ok?” You nod to him as you shakily ask him not to leave. You know you sound needy and whiny but you're in pain and he always knows the right things to do and say to keep you calm.

“Believe me when I say this love. I’ll always be here.”

It’s a few hours later and you have your arm in a sling and your knee wrapped in an ace bandage. A dislocation and bruised knee is all you had but that was all it took to halt production for a few weeks. You felt terrible, all the hard work everyone had been putting in just for it to be cut short. You hear a knock on your trailer and you call for them to come in.

You see your boyfriend pop his head in with a dopey smile on his face. He enters with some clothes and you can’t help but to smile. Your love knows no bounds when it comes to this man and you’re better because of it. “I figured you didn’t want to be in this sweaty costume anymore so I went home really quickly and brought you some clothes.” You give him a kiss as a thank you and go to unzip when you stop short.

“Um... little help babe?” Chris grins as he makes his way over to you being careful to mind your arm as he helps you out of the sling and your clothes. The hoodie smells just like him and you burrow your nose into the sleeve. “I figured when we get home we can jsut watch some movies and cuddle. How does that sound?”

“Like paradise.” You sigh as you kiss him again but your mind keeps drifting to earlier. “Are they mad at me? Are you mad at me?” Your voice comes out soft and insecure. You would hate yourself if you caused any of them to be upset because of a stupid mistake you made.

“My love, why would any of us be mad at you?”

“Because I ruined film and production.” You try your best to shrug with your one good shoulder. Your voice is still small and wavery.

“Love, no one is mad but we are concerned. You took quite a fall and I’m pretty sure Evans was crying.”

“Promise?”

“Promise that Evans was crying?” Chris smirks at you, he knew what you meant but he wanted to see you smile.

“No you goof. I meant about them not being upset.”

“Of course. Y/n, you’re a part of this family now. No matter what happens everyone will never be upset with you ok?” You give him a small nod and another kiss before heading out of the trailer. You didn’t know how the cast felt about you during the beginning of you being casted but with Chris’ words of affirmation you felt better now. It didn’t stop you from feeling guilty for halting production but you didn’t exactly blame yourself anymore.

When you arrive home Chris keeps up his macho man mantra and lifts you up placing you on the bed. You can’t stop giggling at this man’s antics as he dances his way into your kitchen to get snacks. He has his arms full and places everything on the bed hopping in and wrapping his arms around you. You don’t know what movie he chose and you don’t necessarily care. All you do is focus on the soft rise and fall of his chest and the last thing you remember is feeling his lips on your forehead and hearing his heartbeat fade out as you fall asleep.

“I’ll always be here.”

A/N: Yeah this sucks but I still hope you found some enjoyment with reading this.A/N: This definitely needs to be heavily edited.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth x reader #marvel cast #infinity war #fluff #small amount of angst #comfort #avengers #chris hemsworth x you

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psycho-pass-saiko · 3 years

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[Some time after their lunch date, Kogami pays a visit to his former superior for a small training session]

...

Kogami, entered the semi-abandoned base as she called “home” these days. The electric was on but was only enlightining the training place, which was placed in the center of the large room. Containing of a large tatami floor. Except the rink, there werent much furniture in this broad room. It felt as if he was in an aircraft shed.

He saw two figures under the lamp, moving back and forward. As he got closer to the figures, the one next the brunette was someone quite familiar.

‘’ Is that… me?’’

‘’Huh-..argh!’’ with a confused yelping, Akane lost her balance as the training robot kicked her legs from the ground, forcing her to fall hard on her chest.

Kogami, made a move forward to help the laying woman but Akane quickly recovered from her earlier state with a back roll, now was on her knees. She pushed a button of her watch on her left wrist, stoping the combat robot. Akane, slowly stood up while his gaze quickly checked her, if there were any injuries or such. She snorted, analyzing his look.

‘’ I am not a piece of glass, Kogami-san.’’

‘’Oh I am well aware of that,’’ He narrowed his eyes but now was more relaxed not seeing any visible injuries. ‘’just fine.’’

Kogami was next to a bench near the tatami she and her robot were on. He threw his backpack as if it was a piece of cloth. Bag fell into the floor after crushing the wood but he didnt care and sat on the bench.

He once again checked her from head to top. She was wearing a cotton pink tights and short sleeved t-shirt, some places were darker from the sweat of her efforts before his arrival. Her leg muscles were making their appearance through the thin fabric. When he saw her bending forward his eyes found hers.

“Is there something on my face, Kogami-san?” She said with a subtle grin on her lips. Kogami shrugged as she grabbed the water bottle just over the tatami, gulping down one or two sips. Kogami, leaned back putting his hands next to his body. He gestured the combat robot with a swing of his chin.

“What about it?”

Akane pulled the bottle from her lips, following his gesture. She cleared her throat before speaking.

“Oh, its just a hologram. You know to get better experince for the field.“ She walked towards the robot, which was designed as Kogami’s body with gym clothes, and tapped the head of the robot making a metalic clank sound . Kogami gave her a coy smile.

“I know its just a hologram. But why me?”

Akane didnt answered as quickly as she wanted. She sighed and combed her short damp hair with her fingers. “It keeps me on focus.” After her short sentence she touched to her watch again to make the hologram disappear. Now it was a plain robot standing in front of her.

“You mean, i keep you on focus?” Kogami continued on his flirty attitude to draw her in the corner. But the Akane he knew, the innocent girl who would blush about anything, was now nowhere to be seen. Instead Akane turned to him with a faint smile and answered honestly. “Yes. Yes you do.”

Kogami, a bit unready for this serious expression, stood up slowly on his legs. He reached to zip of his hoodie, pulling it down while he responded. “You could have said it earlier.”

He stepped on the tatami with his bare feet now his hoodie on his hand. He threw the hoodie like his bag to the bench earlier and turned right to face her fully.

Akane’s gaze wondered over him. He was wearing a black short sleeved t-shirt wrapping around his quite visible biceps, a grey sport pants a bit tight on his thighs. Her eye stopped a bit longer on his torso though. His cheeky voice guided her honey colored eyes to his own grey clouded ones. “One word and you could get the real one here. Also, i have the voice upgrade as well comparing to that mute useless metal garbage.”

Akane, not being able to contain her giggle, hide her lips behind her hand. “ Kogami-san, those combat robots are really useful.”

Kogami raised one of his eyebrows. “ You say so? I can crack open three of them, lets say, under 30 seconds.”

Now it was Akane’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You say?”

Kogami, put his hands on his waist, leaning on his left leg. “Are you doubting me, Inspector?”

“Ex-Inspector.” She corrected him with that subtle smile again. Kogami wanted to face palm himself but he held back. Akane sipped one more time from her bottle only to throw it next to the bench Kogami’s stuff were. She turned to face him.

“Are you offering me a match, now, Kogami-san?”

Kogami shrugged, moving a bit closer to her. Now he was in front of her, half an arm lenght away. He could see the sweat drops on her neck slowly sliding down to her chest. He fixed his eyes on hers. “If it is what you desire.”

Akane, secretly gulped down, to drown the weird feelings came to her chest. The wild gaze of his grey shiny irises gave shivers to the back of her neck. She muffled an “idiot” beneath her breathe, making sure he didnt hear it. She was successful.

Akane turned to her left, opening her feet about a shoulder gap, taking her defensive standing. “So you want a rematch, if i remember correctly, i was the one who won over our small encounter years ago.”

As he also stood yet a bit bended forward, legs opened, hands in fists, Kogami looked at her. “ What? You didnt win that one-“

She is fast.

Before finishing his sentence about the fight they had years ago, in that abandoned building seconds before an explosion he protected her from, she attacked him gliding on the tatami.

She was a petite woman but as the years passed she learnt to use this to her advantage. She always knew her opponents wont be in her league mostly. So she trained herself with bigger and heavier rivals everytime.

Akane lowered herself more on her knees, dashed to his left side, to his less defensed part. Or she thought.

Akane caught Kogami with her well balanced level change and speed. She threw a punch to under his left arm directly into his chest. Her fist brushed over his shirt as Kogami also slided on the tatami to the front, blocking her attack. Akane without even taking a breath, she turned around her right leg to give a high kick to her opponent.

Kogami saw Akane’s leg before hitting his face. He swayed a bit on his legs, shaked himself to gain the balance and the sight back.

But Akane wasnt planning to give him the chance.

As soon as her left leg touched the ground, she attacked forward again. Her right punch blocked with his left hand, her left with his right. He was now full focused. He leaned a bit forward, still blocking her forceful fists with his forearms. “You could have been a bit kinder towards me. This will leave a bruise, i dont have a metalic face.”

Akane chuckled for a second, looking at his cheek already getting red. She stayed silent, grabbed his left wrist with her left hand pulled him towards herself and twisted his palm to ceiling, her right hand was also pushing his elbow downwards. This made Kogami grunt, as he was facing the floor on his half bending knees now.

Very well, she wanted this.

He threw his body forward into a tumble to release himself from her grabbing. He saved his aching arm from her ,now was behind her. As she was turning to her back, he grabbed her opened arm quicker than before. He raised it upwards, rising on his left knee to create a room for his right leg to kick the back of hers. His heavy leg found its target, making her to fall on her back. Still holding her left arm Kogami stood up. He gently twirled her palm to an unnatural state.

She grunted with pain and had to turn facedown on the tatami, to not get her shoulder dislocated. Kogami, standing over her, took a short breath before releasing her from his grip.

“You improved yourself fairly, Tsunemori.” he complimented her. And he was serious about every word. He knew she could fight and protect herself, but feeling it directly made a difference. Nothing came from her as a response so Kogami got worried if he went hard on her too much.

“Tsune- ugh?!”

To his confusion, Akane rolled over to her right side, mirroring his attack, she kicked him behind his knees. When his body lowered to ground she grabbed his left arm, raised her torso lifting up her waist and legs. She instantly caged his neck and head between her calfs, locking her feet with a twist. Kogami with a thud fell on the floor, eyes widened with shock. Akane hugged to his left arm, now he was in her steel like leg lock.

She arched her back, making the grip tighter. Kogami, growled in his chest, he grabbed her ankles with his free hand tried to open the lock. But it was, no wonder , in vain.

Before his vision got dark, he hit the tatami floor a few times, declaring his defeat.

Akane grunted as she losen up her grip around him. She pulled her legs back to herself, still layed down next to him trying to recover her breathing.

Seconds of silence past. Until both of them started giggling at the same time.

“ 30 seconds you were saying?”scorned him.

“ I might have been underestimated you a bit.” said Kogami now leaning on his arm, looking at her from up.

Akane turned her head to left to encounter with his soft gaze. “Biggest mistake of yours, i assume.”

Kogami, snorted looking at the ceiling as if praying to god. “ Thats for sure. Should i start counting the times you sent me to hospital room, Tsunemori?”

A rush of blood went to Akane’s cheeks. “ You were not obeying to my orders that time Kogami-san! I apologized a lot.” She stood up on both of her elbows, now same level with his face. Seeing a cheeky yet quite relaxed expression of him caught her off of guard.

“Yeah, you did apologize a lot. Should have been me who did all of it though.” His right hand reached over, slightly brushing away the hair that was hiding her eyes. With the sudden move, Akane held her breath for a time she felt like a year. Not changing his caring expression a couple more seconds, he watched her face in a dreamy look, just before standing up.

He placed his hands on the floor, taking a boost from it, stood up. He hold out his hand to her. Akane, grabbed his hand, realizing the size difference between them once more. Her cheeks got a bit more pinkier.

“You can kick a full grown-ass man from floor to floor, but a small act of chivalry makes you blush.” He chuckled with his hoarse voice. “ You are one of a kind, Akane Tsunemori.”

Akane, not knowing if she should pull her hand back, shrugged. “ Well, at least, i am the first statutory enforcer in the history.”

This stole a full laughter from his lips.

“ I didnt mean about that specific kind.” His smile reached to his eyes. Akane gave him an equal smile, as bright as the stars.

“So, what are we getting tonight?” She realized neither he or she released each other from their hand hold.

“Hmm, what are you in the mood for?” He asked walking together with her to the bench.

“Noodles!”

Kogami, smirked while grabbing his stuff with his free hand. His fingers entwined with her delicate ones.

“Noodles, it is.”

...

[I hope you guys like it, it is my first time writing a ficlet for Shinkane, just a cozy time for them]

and i am sorry for the mistakes that i made dont mind my typos love youuu

#akane tsunemori #kougami shinya #psycho pass #psycho pass manga #psychopassfanfic #fanfic #ficlet #combat #trainingficlet #shinkane #ginoza nobuchika #shinya kogami #psycho pass 3

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mamabearcat · 5 years

Text

Into the Woods - Part 8

Finally - this was like pulling teeth! I’m still not entirely happy with the action, but I’ve never claimed to be an action scene writer - hopefully I’ll get better in time! Anyways...

Tagging my two main cheerleaders for this @clearwillow and @keichanz and also @redflamesofpassion @xxracheyxx @mcornilliac@inuyashasnook @cstorm86 @xfangheartx @wenchster

Our song this time is Evanescence - Never Go Back

Everything is so dark And I know there’s something wrong but I can’t turn the light on In that split second change when you knew we couldn’t hold on I realized I lived to love you

Save yourself, don’t look back Tearing us apart until it’s all gone The only world I’ve ever known sleeps beneath the waves But I remember

I won’t give up on you I can feel you in my heart, just show me the way I don’t belong here Alone

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

“Inuyasha, stop fussing, okay?”

Kagome tried rolling her injured shoulder, and then wished she hadn’t. She couldn’t hide the breathed hiss of pain as she raised her arm to ease her sleeve back up. It was true that Inuyasha had successfully popped her shoulder joint back in place, but it was bruised and there was probably some damage to the surrounding muscles and tendons. She mentally went through the nursing protocols for a shoulder dislocation and huffed out a sigh – reduction, pain medication, immobilisation of shoulder with a sling for two to three weeks and physical therapy. Yeah right.

“Fuck.” Inuyasha growled, watching her flinch. Kagome could barely lift her arm – how on earth was she gonna be able to shoot her bow? Thankfully the bow and quiver had fallen with her, held tightly against her body by Naraku’s black youki tentacles. Some arrows had fallen out of the quiver, but there were still a good many left – roughly thirty Inuyasha guessed. He hoped it would be enough. But that was a moot point if Kagome couldn’t even shoot them.

“Wait, I got an idea”, he said, tugging the red hoodie back away from her shoulder. Yellow youki sparked around his fingertips as he placed his hand gently against her bruised skin.

“What are you…?” she began, then jumped in surprise as her shoulder tingled. “Wow, you can heal injuries?!”

“Nuh uh”, he grinned. His yellow eyes shone with amusement and relief in the darkness of the cave. “But you can.”

Squinting down at her shoulder, Kagome almost yelped. Soft pink light flooded under the arcing yellow youki at Inuyasha’s fingertips. Her shoulder felt comfortably warm, as if it were heating from the inside. “What?’

“Reiki is healing. I’m just givin’ it a little nudge in the right direction.” He pulled his fingers away, and the pink light faded. “Did it help any?” Kagome tentatively rolled her shoulder again. It still ached, but felt more like pulled muscles after heavy lifting rather than the painful throb from before.

“Much better”, she sighed, dragging her sleeve up over her shoulder again. She shivered a little. The cave was dark and cold. She didn’t really want to be in here anymore, but the alternative wasn’t very tempting either.

“So”, she huffed. “how are we going to do this? He obviously knows we’re coming now.”

Inuyasha shrugged. “Plan hasn’t really changed. You shoot some arrows. I beat his ass. We shove him in behind the barrier again and eat bacon for breakfast.”

“Still a little short on details there, Inuyasha”, she snorted.

“Hey, I never said I was a details kinda guy. I have a big axe and I hit things with it. That’s my thing.”

“Yeah, well my thing is knowing what the hell I’m doing. Where is the barrier exactly?”

“Between the house and the cliff, there’s a stand of tall trees. That’s where the rock is. The barrier itself is only paper thin, stretched out over the opening in the rock. It’s attuned to Naraku’s soul – all we have to do is push him through it, and he’ll be trapped again.”

Kagome frowned. That sounded too simplistic. There had to be more to it than that. She bit her lip, then sighed. “Look, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but how did they succeed in getting him back through the barrier the last time he escaped?”

Inuyasha growled lowly and Kagome wanted to shake him in frustration. “Inuyasha, this isn’t fair. I have very little information to go on here, and yet you’re expecting me to somehow do something miraculous with a skill I didn’t even know I had twenty four hours ago.” She felt rather than saw Inuyasha turn his head away from her, and she reached out her hand to place on his chest, feeling his heart thudding comfortingly against the heel of her hand. She didn’t like the dark, but with him here, it didn’t seem to press in around her so closely. “Please?”

“She allowed Naraku to possess her”, he answered flatly.

Kagome gasped. “What?! Why would…?”

“Hell if I know. He had tricked her before – maybe she thought she could reason with him. But all that did was trap her. Her guardian couldn’t fight Naraku anymore because he didn’t want to injure her. Naraku took control of her body, and she started firing arrows at him; all he could do was block her attacks.. It was only when her sister Kaede arrived at the shrine that they were able to push her through the opening of the barrier and seal Naraku inside. Kikyou’s body passed through, but it was too late.”

“So, falling through the barrier killed her?” asked Kagome hesitantly.

She felt Inuyasha’s shoulder’s shrug. “Not exactly. Her body was still alive, but she never fully regained consciousness – her eyes were open and stuff, but she didn’t respond to anyone, couldn’t do anything for herself.”

Kagome made a sympathetic noise. “So she must have slipped into a coma – a vegetative state.”

Inuyasha shifted uneasily, obviously uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. “Her Guardian looked after her, tending to her every need and hoping that she would recover, but she never did. Her body eventually wasted away, and she died. I guess it was the shock of being possessed that put her into a coma – considering it was five hundred years ago, it’s amazing she lasted as long as she did.”

“He must have been very devoted to her”, said Kagome softly. She could hear the unease in his voice, and feel the stiffness in his posture, even if she couldn’t see him very well.

“After she died, Kaede was confirmed as a permanent Shrine Guardian, and Inuyasha chose his successor. He left the shrine – no one knows what became of him after that.”

“He was called Inuyasha too?” Inuyasha shrugged again.

“That’s what the shrine records say.”

Kagome sighed, her mind examining the possibilities. “What if…”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say Inuyasha!” Kagome huffed.

“You don’t go near him. Do you hear me? You stay back and shoot from the rear. I’m not gonna let him touch you again”, he growled. “He’s already injured you twice Kagome, and that’s two times too many.” He placed his hand over the top of hers, still resting on his chest. “You don’t seem to understand – Naraku isn’t just a youkai; no one is exactly certain what he is. He doesn’t have a body of his own, but once he’s at full power and away from the shrine, the damage he can cause is phenomenal. He was responsible for the deaths of thousands of people last time.”

“Then we should consider every possibility!”

Inuyasha growled in frustration. “If I had my way, you’d be staying right here, and I’d face him alone! I just found you for fucks sake! This isn’t an option to consider Kagome!” She leaned forward to rest her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him, trying to calm him. “Alright then. So what are we going to do?”

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

Kagome moulded herself against Inuyasha’s back as he climbed the cliff behind the shrine, arms curved up and around his shoulders with fingers twisted into his flannel shirt, and legs hooked around his waist so that he had his arms free for climbing. The covered blade of the untransformed Tessaiga was digging into her thigh, but there was no way she was going to loosen her hold on him; in fact she was struggling not to cling on tighter. Squeezing him to the point he was unable to breathe while climbing would probably be a bad thing for both of them.

She didn’t look up because she didn’t want to get dust or dirt in her eyes, and she definitely didn’t look down. She’d already survived a fall once tonight, and she didn’t want to think about the possibility of falling again. Was this tempting fate?

She kept her eyes trained on the back of Inuyasha’s neck, watching the cords of muscle bunch and stretch under tan skin as he reached with certainty for handholds in the rock that she couldn’t see with her weaker human eyesight. This sucked. Why did they have to do this in the dark? Why couldn’t they be fighting evil in the daylight?

“You okay?” whispered Inuyasha.

“Yeah”, she breathed, doing her best to sound confident.

“Are you sure? I can feel how hard your heart’s beating.”

Kagome wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. “Well, it’s been quite a busy day you know, and it’s getting close to bedtime. Any chance we could reschedule and do this tomorrow?”

Inuyasha chuckled dryly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say”, whispered Kagome.

“We’re nearly at the top. No matter what happens, I want you to stay back okay? Shoot your charged arrows at any youki and miasma, I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Okay.”

The were silent as Inuyasha climbed the last few feet. He paused with his head just below the edge of the cliff.

“You ready Kagome?”

“No”, she said shakily, “but let’s do this anyway.” She leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the cheek, nuzzling momentarily against the rough stubble peppering his chin. She was tempted to reach up and tug on one of his soft ears instead, but she restrained herself – now was not the time. “Good luck.” His teeth flashed white in the darkness.

“Let’s fucking end this.”

Inuyasha launched himself upwards over the top of the cliff face, landing softly on all fours so Kagome could slide easily off his back. There was no movement anywhere, apart from the sound of the wind rushing through the trees, and a faint rattling clang from the suzu bells near the entrance to the shrine. Kagome could see Inuyasha’s ears rotating as he strained to pick up any sound that might give away Naraku’s location.

“Where’s the miasma?” muttered Inuyasha, and Kagome realised with a start that the dark purplish haze that had previously covered the shrine was gone. Was it possible that he’d already escaped off the mountain and they’d have to track him elsewhere?

A warm yellow light appeared in the little caretaker’s cottage, spilling out into the darkness through the open back door that swung lazily in the breeze. Inuyasha’s eyes flicked towards hers questioningly.

“That’s coming from the kitchen”, she murmured. “He’s in the house? What’s he doing in there?”

Inuyasha shrugged and they crept forward, Kagome slinging her bow off her shoulder and Inuyasha releasing Tessaiga from it’s holster on his back.

“Can you hear what he’s up to?” Kagome whispered. Inuyasha shook his head, moving silently forward.

“I don’t like it. Our weapons are better suited to a fight out in the open; he probably knows that”, he growled. He shifted uneasily, keeping his weight on the balls of his bare feet.

“Do you think it’s a trap?” said Kagome, her voice shaking a little. They were almost at the door of the little house now, close enough for Kagome to hear the opening and closing of cupboard doors, and the sound of the kettle on the gas stove. Kagome reached backward to snag an arrow out of her quiver and gripped it in her fist like a dagger – she couldn’t shoot at close range effectively, but she could still charge an arrow and stab with it. Inuyasha nodded approvingly, stepping in front of her.

“I want you to stay out here.”

“No!”, she hissed. “You saw what happened back at the tree – my reiki hurt him; I have to come too!”

Inuyasha glared at her, ready to argue, when Kagome heard her grandfather’s voice call out from the house.

“Come in, both of you, I’ve been waiting.”

“Stay Kagome, it’s bound to be a fuckin’ trap!” Kagome shook her head and strode forwards. She had screwed up her courage now, and she was going to see this through. They arrived at the back door together, Inuyasha pushing her behind him protectively as they moved into the kitchen through the open door.

“Good evening little Miko. Would you like some tea?” His voice was conversational and pleasant, seemingly unconcerned by their presence behind him as he concentrated on turning off the heat on the stove. Inuyasha’s subsonic growl didn’t seem to concern him either. “No? I take it you won’t mind if I partake in a cup?”

Kagome shuddered, watching the body of her Grandfather making tea in his kitchen. It looked so normal, so every day, a scene she’d seen countless times over the years. Her gut twisted, knowing at the same time that it was not her Grandfather and there was absolutely nothing normal about this situation. She tried not to think about what had happened in this kitchen only this afternoon, praying that her grandfather was still alive somehow, and that Naraku wasn’t just wearing his body like an empty suit. She startled as he spoke again.

“I must apologise little Miko – my appetite quite overcame my manners at our last meeting in this kitchen. It’s a little overwhelming you see, being back in a body after all this time.” They watched silently as he poured hot water from the kettle into a teapot, turning it around on the countertop to allow the leaves to steep.

“I’m afraid most humans and youkai don’t seem to appreciate the pleasure that having a body affords”, mused Naraku with his borrowed voice. He swirled the spoon in the teacup, tapping the china rim and smiling with stolen lips at the tinkling ring of metal on china. “Take your Grandfather for instance”, he said, gesturing towards himself. “His body may be older, but there is still a lot of simple pleasures to be enjoyed.” He turned towards Kagome, and she nearly gagged at the swelling blackened bruise covering her Grandfather’s cheekbone and eye socket – one that she must have caused when she had hit him with the frying pan. “A nice cup of tea for instance. It really hits the spot at the end of the day, don’t you agree?”

He sat down at the table and sipped his tea, staring at Kagome over the rim of the cup with blazing red eyes, ignoring Inuyasha’s presence entirely. “I guess you wouldn’t understand the weight of aging though, little baby Miko.” She shuddered at the way he drew out the vowel sound in baby, making the innocuous word sound obscene. “Still so innocent and pure. A kind little baby. Your grandfather loves that about you – he’s very proud of you. It’s a shame really”, he sighed, putting down the teacup. “All this excitement really isn’t good for an old man’s heart. I really don’t know how much longer he’ll last.” He grinned at the tiny whimper that escaped Kagome’s lips.

“Shut the fuck up”, growled Inuyasha. “Don’t taunt her about her grandfather – he’s already dead, and you know it.”

Naraku turned his head slowly, fixing Inuyasha with an icy stare. “I wasn’t talking to you, dog. Not even a pure bred inuyoukai, just a half-breed mutt. Know your place, and speak when spoken to.”

He turned to face Kagome again, who’s expression was now furious.

“Don’t speak to Inuyasha that way!” she ground out through clenched teeth. The arrowhead in her fist glowed pink with power.

“Ah, you Miko, all so defensive about your little pets”, sneered Naraku condescendingly. “I was going to offer to let you speak to your grandfather for a moment, but if you’re not interested…”

Kagome’s eyes widened, her eyes filling with sudden tears and Naraku bared his teeth at her in an approximation of a leering grin. The redness faded from his eyes and was replaced with pained brown.

“Kagome…”, he rasped. Kagome stepped forward and Grandpa held up his hands. “No, stay back. Don’t get close.”

He turned his head to Inuyasha. “I’m sorry son, I should have listened to you. I tried to take him over the cliff with me, but I wasn’t strong… enough.” Grandpa’s breath wheezed out harshly – he was obviously in a lot of pain. “Do whatever… you need to do to finish the job.” Inuyasha raised his eyebrows and then nodded determinedly, clenching his fist on the wooden shaft of his axe, and straightening before offering the old man a deep bow of respect.

At the sound of a sob from Kagome, Grandpa turned his face back towards her, his gaze softening. “Darling girl, it’s okay. I’ve lived a long and happy life. It will all be fine, Kagome. Truly. Tell your mother and Souta”, the kind brown eyes disappeared and were replaced jarringly with gloating red, “that they’ll never see me again.”

At the sound of Kagome’s startled whimper, Inuyasha transformed his Tessaiga with an angry clench of his fist, the pulse of yellow youki illuminating the dim kitchen like a sudden burst of sunlight from behind a cloud.

“Get your filthy eyes off her”, roared Inuyasha. “Your fight is with me!” He swept the long handled axe in a dreadful arc, pushing out a wave of youki towards Naraku. The sound of splintering wood and shattering crockery filled the air. Naraku pushed himself aside using a long tentacle of shadow, avoiding the pulse of youki. Another tentacle shattered the window and half the wall behind Kagome’s head. She shrieked, ducking to avoid the flying glass, eyes still blinded by tears. Her reiki charged arrow barely grazed him as he vaulted through the falling glass.

Inuyasha leapt after him, and Kagome circled back to leave through the open doorway, nocking her arrow, ready to aim. Her eyes were burning with unshed tears, and she blinked them away, gritting her teeth. She loved her grandfather, but she could weep for him later. Now was not the time. She tried to focus her aim, keeping her bow string taught, but the two fighting in front of her were moving at blurring speed.

In the darkness the Tessaiga glowed neon yellow, whirling in great arcs as Inuyasha fought back against the tentacles of shadow speeding towards him. He spun the axe hand over hand, then let it swing out to its full extension, sending out a wave of yellow light that sizzled, distorting the air around it with heat haze. Naraku knocked it aside with an arm of shadow. Inuyasha used the long handled axe to vault over Naraku’s head, then swept the axe down low, causing Naraku to fall back before him. A long tentacle grazed Inuyasha’s shoulder, putting him off balance momentarily. They circled each other, seemingly evenly matched for the moment, each looking for an opening against the other.

Kagome watched as her grandfather’s body seemed to suddenly float in mid-air, towering over Inuyasha, and she realised that Naraku was balanced on tentacles to raise himself above the ground. Right. Here was something she could do – remove the height advantage.

Kagome charged her arrow quickly, knowing she’d only get one shot before giving away her position, then let it fly. She didn’t wait to watch the pink tail of light behind it, but sprinted towards Inuyasha, hoping to get behind him. A scream of rage and a foul stench followed her, and she grinned in triumph even as she ran. Gotcha, you bastard!

She skidded to a halt a good way behind Inuyasha and the whirling circle of his axe, taking up her aim again. Naraku was now on the ground, having the tentacles beneath him burned away. The smell was horrific, but she concentrated on the task at hand, aiming towards the tentacle protruding from his left shoulder, where it was thickest. She got ready to loose her arrow, but the pink glow gave away her position and a shadowed tentacle shot towards her.

She didn’t even have time to scream before Inuyasha threw his body in front of hers, the tentacle piercing through his shoulder. She screamed as he staggered when the tentacle was yanked roughly backwards.

“Keep shooting”, he gasped, leaning on his axe for a moment before he was up again, swinging around to face Naraku once more.

Her heart in her mouth, Kagome continued to loose her arrows at Naraku. They were hurting him, the stench of burning youki flaring her nostrils like sulphur, but the tentacles were quickly replaced, reforming as quickly as she could shoot them away. Inuyasha continued to keep up his attack, ducking and diving, spinning and whirling his axe so that yellow youki arced towards Naraku, pushing him back. They had driven Naraku past the house, and the ring of tall trees was in sight.

But they were both tiring, panting and exhausted. Kagome’s injured shoulder burned; she could hardly lift her arms anymore, and Inuyasha’s entire sleeve and back was wet with blood. He was staggering as he swung, panting heavily. Kagome reached back for another arrow, and her hand grasped at nothing. She was out.

“Get back Kagome”, hissed Inuyasha, realising immediately what her startled gasp had meant. He pushed her behind him as another tentacle raced towards her, the expression on Naraku’s face gleeful. Inuyasha barely smacked the shadow away by lunging forwards, almost overbalancing. Kagome thought frantically, trying to come up with a plan. They were so close. ‘Midoriko, what do I do? Tell me what to do!’

You must fight him together, the small voice whispered.

Kagome wanted to scream – they were fighting, they’d been fighting alongside each other all this time, and Inuyasha was hurt, and she didn’t know…

You must fight him together, you from within, and your guardian from without.

Kagome gasped. ‘Is that what Kikyou tried to do?’ she whispered, dodging another tentacle as Inuyasha screamed at her to get back to safety.

Yes. But they did not trust.

Kagome ducked and weaved her way to move behind Inuyasha as he frantically sent out waves of youki against Naraku’s shadow tentacles. He was beginning to push back now, and they were moving away from the trees.

“Midoriko says that I need to fight Naraku from the inside”, she yelled as loudly as she dared, hoping he could hear her above the whistling sound of his axe as it cut through the air.

“What?” he gasped.

Kagome crept as close to him as she could while he swung his Tessaiga, keeping one eye on Naraku’s shadow and the other on the Tessaiga. “I need to let him possess me, then purify him inside my body”, she explained, “and you need to keep attacking him from the outside.”

“Bullshit”, roared Inuyasha. “We’re not doin’ that.” He staggered forwards, growling out his challenge to Naraku, but unable to make him give any ground fighting alone.

“Inuyasha”, Kagome pleaded, “this is the only way. Midoriko said so.” She squealed, almost slipping on the blood soaked grass around Inuyasha. They needed to end this soon, before he bled out; she was amazed he was still standing at all. “She said Kikyou was trying to do the same thing – the only reason it didn’t work was because her and the other Inuyasha didn’t trust each other enough.” She swallowed. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Inuyasha turned to look at her determined face, aghast. “Kagome, you know I do, but don’t do this – there’s gotta be another way!”

Kagome shook her head, her hands shaking. “Remember, you can’t hurt me”, she said softly. And then she ran.

Ducking and weaving, she ran towards her grandfather’s body, ignoring Inuyasha’s anguished shout behind her. As she approached, the tentacles blocking her path stilled and dissolved before her, dissipating in the night air like smoke from a lost fire, while others still fought to keep Inuyasha at bay. Naraku bared his teeth at her.

“Come for a chat, little Miko?”

“I offer you a trade”, said Kagome boldly, doing her best to calm the tremor in her voice. “Let my grandfather go. Use my body instead.”

“And why would I do that?” Naraku licked his lips, looking Kagome up and down, and she shivered, but raised her chin.

“I am offering my body as a last gift to my grandfather, to ease his pain. Please.” She could hear Inuyasha’s footsteps pounding behind her, could hear him screaming out her name. They needed to do this quickly. “Please.”

She reached out her hand and touched Naraku’s shoulder, flinching at the coldness emanating from him. There was a rush of agony up through her arm, and she screamed, dropping to her knees even as she watched her grandfather’s body fall lifeless to the ground, before darkness shuttered the light from her own eyes.

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

Dark. It was dark, so dark, like she was floating in a void. So dark and so very cold. She couldn’t feel her hands, couldn’t feel herself. She didn’t know it was going to be like this! She wanted to panic, wanted to scream, but how could you panic without a body to panic with? Being trapped alone in the darkness had always been one of her greatest fears, and she could feel her determination ebbing, sapped by terror.

She needed to focus. She could already feel Naraku’s youki, flickering at the edges of her consciousness like fingers of flame, trying to gain total control. He was obviously already controlling her body; she needed to start fighting back. She had to be stronger. Inuyasha was counting on her. She hoped he’d understood what she’d meant by not being able to hurt her. She hoped he trusted her enough for this to work.

“She tried this too you know.”

A sibilant whisper cut across her resolve – is this what Naraku sounded like when he wasn’t using someone else’s voice? It made her want to curl into a ball – hearing his voice made her feel dirtied, unclean. She mentally shuddered.

“Did your pet dog tell you about her? The priestess Kikyou? She even looked a little like you, baby miko.” The voice swirled around her, licking at her consciousness intrusively. “Poor… little… baby… miko…”, the dark voice crooned, causing Kagome’s thoughts to stutter in horror. “It’s all over for you now, you know that, don’t you?”

Slimy tendrils of youki dragged across her consciousness like unwanted fingers and Kagome wanted to scream. She needed to find her courage, she had to. “Inuyasha”, she whispered, almost like a prayer. She concentrated on thinking of his face, not frantic and bloodied as she’d just left him, but his proud fanged smile when she’d loosed that first youki laden arrow, the way he had whirled her around the room, the way he had held her close. He had faith in her. That click when they had connected, recognising each other. She blocked everything else out as she did her best to draw together her spiritual energy.

“Isn’t it interesting… Kikyou’s dog was called Inuyasha too. But he failed her. Do you want to know what happened to the priestess when her dog failed her, little baby miko?”

Kagome concentrated on increasing her energy, imagining it like a ball of pink lightning in her chest.

“She got trapped in here with me – some of her at least. Her pretty body was left behind to rot, but I managed to contain some of her soul to keep me company here in the dark. She did her very best to keep me away, but I made her play, in the end. It was much more amusing to have a companion than being here alone. She’s been in here with me for a very… long… time.”

Kagome tightened her hold on the energy, doing her best not to listen. She wouldn’t react; he was trying to frighten her. Kikyou had died five hundred years ago, Inuyasha had told her.

“Maybe she’ll even come out to play? I bet she’d like to see her darling Inuyasha again, wouldn’t you dear Kikyou?”

“Inu- Inuyasha?” The voice from the void was small, brittle, like a lost child’s. Kagome’s mind reeled; if she’d had control of her body right then, she would have been physically ill. She thought he’d been lying, but had he really trapped the other Miko’s soul in here with him? For how long? Five hundred years? She’d barely been here five minutes and the thought of being trapped in here any longer than she had to made her want to scream in panic. The darkness suddenly felt thicker, viscous, as if it was intent on invading her sensibility as much as Naraku.

“Yes my sweet. Inuyasha is finally here.”

“I knew he’d come for me! I knew if I held on long enough that he would come!” The childish voice giggled hysterically, the sound echoing in the darkness, beating against Kagome’s resolve.

“Yes, this foolish Miko has been hiding him from you. We should punish her, don’t you think?”

“Why would she do that? Why would she keep Inuyasha from me?” The voice sounded petulant.

“I’m not sure sweet Kikyou. Maybe you should ask her. Or maybe you could ask Inuyasha himself. Would you like to see him? You’ve been a very good girl for a long time; so quiet, so malleable – I’m sure you’ve earned a moment or two with him.”

Kagome felt a mental shove as a trail of reiki that wasn’t hers lanced across her consciousness. She yelped; it had felt like a physical wound, like she’d been whipped. She struggled to keep hold of the energy she’d gathered as Naraku renewed his attack, unwanted finger trails of youki testing her determination. “Midoriko give me strength”, she whispered into the darkness.

Read Part 9

#into the woods #ah sorry for the cliffhanger #but not really #we're nearly at the end #please let me finish this soon #I want my life back #inukag #inukag fanfic #inuyasha x kagome #Bearpluscat fanfics

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pivitor · 4 years

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Emotional Roller-Coaster This Week

So, the last eight days have been an absolute whirlwind. Some really great things happened. Some really bad things happened. I’m kinda still reeling. I had some big firsts, and spent some time with great friends, had some real catharsis. I also fell further into depression than I have in a long, long time, and, oh yeah, got diagnosed with a chronic illness.

I need to get this all off my chest, cause I’m drowning. Join me?

Before we start, there’s two things you need to know about me. Both are things I’ve mentioned in bits and pieces on here, but here’s the full story:

1. Three months ago I had shoulder surgery to repair a torn labrum (I technically tore it when I dislocated my arm in high school, and it’s been popping out on me once every other year or so ever since, but my most recent [and now final] dislocation was very bad and sent me right to the doctor). I spent about two weeks out of work, just sitting at home on the couch in a sling. The pain wasn’t great, but it was worse mentally: I put on a couple pounds and immediately started to feel terrible about myself, and being stuck at home when I wanted to be out there, doing stuff with friends or with guys or to reach a point where I can move out, felt terrible. I wasn’t in a great headspace for a long time. As of now I have about 95% of my arm function back, and am fully healed, just trying to get back the last of my range of motion and gradually increase back to my old strength threshold.

2. This one is a bit more complicated. I’ve talked a lot here about how I grew up in a cult, but I never went into further detail. Well, here we go: I was a J*hovah’s W*tness. (I’m censoring this because I don’t want this showing up in searches) It wasn’t something I would have ever chose for myself, but when you’re born into it, you’re pretty heavily indoctrinated -- I thought it was the gospel truth despite having many reasons not to. They’re a very homophobic organization, so growing up in it wrecked my self esteem. My entire childhood and time as a teenager I thought I was worthless and doomed, destined for eternal destruction. I was often suicidal. When I was about 18 or 19 the cult printed an article “clarifying” their view on homosexuality, and said they recognized that some people are just naturally attracted to the same gender and as long as they don’t act on it they’re still “acceptable” to God. It’s dangerous bullshit that makes me so angry now, but as a brainwashed, suicidal teenager, it felt like the only chance I had to live a worthwhile life, so I got baptized into the religion, which is the biggest mistake I have ever made in my life, because once you’re a baptized member of the cult, if you leave you’ll be shunned by everyone you’ve ever known. Your own parents will treat you as if you’re dead. I was very zealous for a year or two before realizing that I just couldn’t do it anymore, but it’s taken me nearly ten years to fully wake up from the indoctrination, read information from outside religions, scientists, and former members who have left. Currently I still live with my family and have to pretend to still believe (because the moment I don’t they’ll kick me out on the street), and am on the cusp of two promotions at work. As soon as those go through, I should be able to save money to move out, which I wanna do before the summer, and then I’ll be completely free.

Okay, the rollercoaster week itself:

Pre-Monday: For about a week, a week and a half before this all started, I’d been experiencing some pain in my side that was making it hard to sit up for long periods of time. This normally would’ve been a major red flag, but thanks to the shoulder surgery, I’d been having random back pains off and on recently anyway. I assumed it was related to me overcompensating for the shoulder and left it alone. Big mistake.

Monday: So one of my promotions at work involves a coaching center we’re launching. We were supposed to do our first presentation last Monday, and when my boss showed up for it, everything fell apart. It wasn’t totally my fault -- the general condition of the office itself wasn’t up to par, and the boss recognized that there wasn’t much I could do about that -- but a lot was, and I spent all week trying to fix things and get them running, and running into one major roadblock and frustration after another. We’re finally doing the presentation today, but it technically still isn’t 100% fixed. Work has been a major, major source of stress all week. I don’t think I’ll mention it again because there’s not much more to it than what I’ve listed here, but remember that it’s hanging over my head all week.

Monday night I was invited to a birthday party for a friend from my gym. Since the cult doesn’t celebrate holidays, I’d never actually been a birthday party before, complete with cake and singing happy birthday and everything. It was really nice -- even though it was truly just a bunch of guys hanging around a bar watching the Eagles, it still felt like something really special. I also spent about a half an hour in my car before I walked into the bar trying not to hyperventilate. I don’t feel guilty at all as I may have once, but I was still really worried about being seen by someone and my family finding out.

Wednesday: Tuesday was my only truly normal day of the week, and even then, we had my cousin staying with us up until Wednesday, so even then it wasn’t truly normal. We normally have church on Thursday nights (I have to attend so as not to blow my cover, but I tend to stand in the lobby and play on my phone the entire time; it’s a nice chance to catch up on my reading usually), but I had a concert on Thursday I was not going to miss, so I told my parents I was going to a different congregation on Wednesday night, but instead I went to Starbucks and caught up on Crisis on Infinite Earths. It’s...depressing that this is what I’m reduced to, but I was happy that it finally occurred to me to just...lie about it.

When I got home and took off my shirt to change into my pajamas, I noticed a patchy, red rash on my stomach, side, and back, right around the same area I’d been having pain for the last week or two. I’d absolutely never had anything like this happen before, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. I crossed my fingers that it was an allergic reaction, put some cortisone cream on it, and decided to wait a couple days to see if anything changed.

Thursday: On Thursday I drove up to Philly after work, and ate a few slices at my favorite pizza place, reading comics, until it was time for the concert. It was a free show from Pkew Pkew Pkew, a band I truly, truly love, and it was one of my favorite shows of the year. Just pure joy. They played for about an hour, but were the opening act, and I don’t care for the headliner (Beach Slang), so I had originally had a few ideas about what I could do afterwards, considering that their set was over by 10 or so. I could go home (coward’s option), I could go to the Barcade. What I really wanted to do was go to a gay bar or club. I’d gone right before my surgery and had a great time, but I’d been avoiding going back (or joining a dating app or anything else) until my arm fully healed because it would very much have gotten in the way of doing anything physical. I was finally in the place where I could use my arm, but now I had that strange mysterious rash, and didn’t think it was right to do anything like that until I’d figured it out/gotten it cleared up. I don’t wanna pass anything on to anybody.

By sheer coincidence, Philly’s Emo Night ended up being this very same night (this one is held once a month), so I ended up heading over there and dancing until 2AM. I got very drunk and had a fantastic time. But there were a lot of couples. There was this girl that kept hitting on me, and then getting pissy when I didn’t reciprocate. There was this extremely hot dude in a Misfits hoodie, and early in the night we were the only two who were dancing, and he gave me a high five that he pulled into a bro hug after the song, which got me all riled up, but I couldn’t work it into anything else haha. And then this group of about four guys or so showed up, dancing all night, very affectionate, cupping each other’s faces when they talked to each other and all that. I’d seen them before and both times thought they might be gay, so I stuck close and was kinda part of their group for the night, which was really really fun. At the end of the night, one of them mentioned their girlfriend, and I reeled way more than I had any right to. I had a fantastic night. I went home feeling very alone.

Friday: Friday was my gym’s Christmas Party, which, much like Monday, was my first ever Christmas Party. I had a really fun time chatting with everyone, eating, watching one friend get drunk, try to jump up on the rings, and get dragged home by his wife. We had rowing contests and the losers had to take shots. But there was one guy there I’ve always had a crush on, a very straight, very married guy, and he was looking extremely hot and was acting extremely funny all night, and it was rough. I went home and dreamed about him all night. I woke up feeling even more alone and frustrated.

Saturday: I was pretty depressed and listless by this point. Feeling really sorry for myself despite all the fun I’d had all week. I had plans to drive up to Asbury Park for an Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties show and I just...really didn’t feel like going. But I drug myself out of bed and made myself go, because you don’t miss the gig. Before the show I wandered around Asbury, basically torturing myself. I wanted to visit a restaurant but had eaten lunch too late and wasn’t hungry. I found a gay club but still had that rash, so I didn’t wanna go in. I ended up standing on the beach, in the dark, finally having a genuine smile as I dodged the waves, but also just thinking about how sometimes Kangaroos just walk into the ocean and...never come back. I was not in a good headspace. I made myself get off the beach.

The show though...damn, that show. Dan played the second Aaron West album, Routine Maintenance, from front to back, and it’s an album about Aaron making the people in his life proud of him, about his friends giving him direction, about finding redemption through being there for his family in their darkest hour. That kind of shit is my kryptonite to begin with, but all I could think about was how all I had ever wanted in my life was to make my family proud, and how I’d never be able to do it, how someday soon they’re just...never gonna talk to me again. I cried twice during the set. And afterwards I got to hug Dan and tell him how much the album fucks me up. It was really cathartic. I felt the cloud start to lift.

Sunday: So Sunday I finally go to the doctor about this fucking rash, which hadn’t gotten any worse but had not gotten any better either. The diagnosis?

I have fucking shingles.

For those who don’t know, shingles is the chicken pox virus. After you’ve had chicken pox it never really leaves your body -- it stores itself away in your nerves. As an adult, it can reemerge as shingles, which begins as an intense pain, then advances into painful rashes on one side of your torso. Without intervention, they can continue to spread and become almost immobilizing. I’m currently on a pill I have to take three times a day for seven days, which will stop the progression of the shingles, and then it will heal up on its own, but it could take a few weeks.

Thankfully, I’m not contagious -- I can only spread the disease if someone has prolonged, direct contact with the rashes. I can be around people, but like I feared, it does rule out sex for a while. The worst part is that shingles as a disease can’t really be healed. The symptoms will go away, but I’ll be susceptible to outbreaks the rest of my life. Fortunately, the doctor made it sound pretty manageable -- the pain in my side, in that exact same spot, will always be my first symptom, so as soon as I feel that I need to get to a doctor and get back on the seven day medication to end the flare-up. It doesn’t sound like shingles flare-ups are super common either -- reading up on it, it looks like most people have, at the most, three outbreaks in their life. But, it’s still a chronic illness, and it’s one that’s very rare to emerge at this young of an age -- this is something you normally get in your fifties or sixties, not your early thirties!

Honestly, I could only laugh. Just my luck, right? I’m so frustrated. My arm’s finally reached the point where I can get back to trying to pursue guys, but nope! the shingles has to postpone it a few more weeks :/

But despite it all, the depression of the rest of the week had mostly lifted. I had processed it. I was feeling better. For a while.

Back in the spring I had joined a subreddit for former members of the cult, which is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, as it let me share my story with people who had been there and understood, and really helped clear out the last remnants of the programming from my brain. Every once in a while different gay Ex cult member will contact me on there, and I’ve struck up a few nice casual friendships. Last week a guy reached out to me on there looking for friends in the same situation as him, and I replied, and on Friday he finally replied back, and we texted each off and on Saturday and Sunday morning. Sunday night, though, we got into a deeper conversation. He’s in his early twenties, and some of the stuff he was asking for advice about made it sound like he was just starting to wake up from the programming and just starting to think about leaving and being gay and everything. Eventually, as we talk more, I find out that that’s not fully the case. He’s jealous of some of the stuff I’ve done that he hasn’t -- going to Pride, going to gay bars -- but unlike me, he’s had a fair amount of sex. Like any closeted Witness, he had to drive into unfamiliar cities to do so, and it’s a strategy I’ve thought of trying but never pulled off.

I dunno, I’m so depressed. I feel like such a failure. I know having sex doesn’t make you a better person, and not having sex doesn’t intrinsically make you a failure. But I feel like this because I want it so badly, because I always have, and I could have been doing it for years, and I’ve been really forced to confront the fact that it’s my own fear that’s been getting in my way all this time. If I’d really tried I could’ve done it by now. If I really tried I probably could’ve moved out and started my new life by now -- I’d probably be dirt broke in an apartment with like eight roommates, but I could’ve done it. I don’t feel like anybody else, including this guy I was chatting with, have been judging me for this, but I’m pretty disgusted with myself, irrational as it may be. I know it’s not true, but I feel like my whole life has been a waste of time. And I’m so fucking sick of it.

So. This is everything I’ve been processing this week. I don’t really know what to do with it. I’ve gotta be patient a little while longer. Keep working on my real estate licensing test so I can make some more money. Wait for the shingles to heal up. Get on Grindr and just, fucking, fuck some dude the moment I’m cleared up.

But fuck, I’m so fucking sick of waiting.

#pivitor

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bored-fan-bs-thoughts · 5 years

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Fluff and Holiday Cheer: Chapter 2

Part 2 of my tyrus fanfic!

Read Part 1 here

————

After quality time playing board games at T.J.’s apartment, Cyrus prepares to go home. Despite its small size, it was nice and homey, and Cyrus absolutely loved his time there (though maybe it was the person he was spending the time with).

“T.J.,” Cyrus begins, his voice uneven and unable to look away from T.J.’s stunning green eyes.

T.J. inhales deeply as he takes a step towards the nervous boy in front of him. He can’t help but notice how adorable his chocolate-brown eyes look all wide in his current panicked state.

“Cyrus,” TJ begins, his heart pounding in his chest, “I want—“

Suddenly, the front door swings open. They jump apart from each other, and Cyrus quickly finds his shoes very intriguing.

“Dad,” TJ nearly shouts as a deep blush makes its way onto his cheeks, “I didn’t expect you to be home so early.”

“I got off early, so I thought I should come home and make dinner. We can order Chinese another night,” his Dad replies. T.J. is deep in thought trying to break down what he thought was about to happen. He barely grasps what his father tells him and opts to nod nondescriptly and hope he won’t become suspicious.

In the awkward silence, Cyrus steps forward and holds out his hand, “I’m Cyrus. It’s nice to meet you Mr. Kippen.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he says, giving the boy a firm handshake that nearly dislocates Cyrus’s arm. “TJ has told me so much about you.”

T.J.’s face heats up even more, his blush deepening. “Uh, Cyrus,” he begins, now a stuttering, blushing mess, “Well, he was just about to leave.”

T.J. puts a hand on Cyrus’s back to steer him towards the door.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” His Dad asks. T.J. begins to panic. No way can he get through the awkwardness that is bound to ensue. Before T.J. can protest, Cyrus is nodding enthusiastically with an adorable, puppy-like smile on his face. T.J. can’t say no to that face.

————

Thirty minutes later, T.J., his dad, and Cyrus sit around the Kippen’s kitchen table in silence apart from the forks scraping up the spaghetti and meatballs from the bowls in front of them. T.J. can’t help but steal glances at the dark haired Jewish boy across from him. Despite the awkwardness, he loves the domesticity of it and smiles at the idea that this could be a normal occurrence if the boy likes him back. Cyrus and him sitting around a dinner table with a home cooked meal.

“So Cyrus,” Mr. Kippen finally says, “Do you have any plans for the holidays?”

“Yeah, I celebrate Hanukkah which starts on Sunday,” Cyrus answers excitedly. “It’s always a busy time because I have two sets of parents, so I spend the eight days hopping around between houses.”

T.J. admires how Cyrus’s eyes light up when he talks about the holidays, and he can’t help but smile at the dorky boy.

“Ah, so you’re Jewish?” T.J.’s dad asks, “All four parents?”

Cyrus nods and adds, “Also, all four are therapists.”

Mr. Kippen raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Wow that is a lot of mental health professionals! Must get overwhelming!”

Cyrus laughs and nods sardonically as he looks down at his plate. T.J. slyly puts a hand on his knee comfortingly, noticing his discomfort with the subject. Their eyes lock for a brief second, and T.J. has to look away to keep himself from blushing.

“So T.J. hasn’t told me much about any holiday plans,” Cyrus says, desperately filling the silence and steering the conversation away from his overbearing parents. “What do you guys do for the holidays?”

“Well, this year T.J.’s sister and I have to work on Christmas morning, so I guess we don’t really have anything planned,” Mr. Kippen says.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cyrus says soothingly.

“It doesn’t really feel like a holiday when it’s just the immediate family anyway,” T.J. bitterly states.

At this, Mr. Kippen seems to get mad. “Do you want to spend Christmas with your homophobic grandparents?” he scorns.

T.J. shakes his head, unable to make eye contact with his dad. Mr. Kippen takes a deep breath and lets out the tension in his body. It is clearly evident where T.J. gets his somewhat fiery temper from, but his dad is much better at handling it. Cyrus notices that T.J. is still silently fuming, and he becomes desperate to fill the silence before the other boy has an outburst.

“I usually spend Christmas Day at my friend Andi’s,” Cyrus explains, “But long story short she kind of just met her dad so this is their first Christmas as a happy family and I didn’t want to intrude on that.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be intruding,” Mr. Kippen assures him. “Any family would be lucky to have you for the holidays.”

The second part is said directly towards T.J. who has released his anger and seemed to shift all the way in the direction of flustered. He and his dad have a silent conversation with their eyes as T.J. begins to blush. He finally looks away, stands up from the table, and announces that they are going up to his room. Cyrus follows him out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

————

T.J. walks briskly through the door of his bedroom and sits heavily on his unmade bed as Cyrus quietly shuts the door behind him. The jock falls onto his back and covers his face for the pillow.

“Are you okay?” Cyrus asks timidly.

T.J. doesn’t answer, so Cyrus begins to examine the room around him. T.J.’s room is exactly what you’d expect out of a teenage boy. The walls are painted baby blue and there is a toy basketball hoop on the back of his door. The room is small, and the floor is littered with basketball shorts and brightly colored hoodies making it seem much smaller than it already is. There are a couple of trophies and baby pictures placed on shelves that clearly haven’t been dusted in the last five years. After a bit, Cyrus returns his attention to T.J. who has not moved from his position on the bed. For once, Cyrus doesn’t know how to comfort the boy, but he hopes that just being in the room with him will calm him down enough to talk. Eventually, T.J. pulls the pillow away from his face and sits up groggily. His eyes are tinged red, clearly from trying to hold back his tears.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Cyrus says comfortingly, “But I’m here to help if you need.”

“Sorry it’s just—sometimes when you talk about your family it just makes me realize that I don’t really have one,” T.J. explains barely keeping his composure.

“You have a dad and a sister,” Cyrus offers, “That’s all the family you need.”

T.J. takes in Cyrus’s words with his eyes on his hands. “Yeah, I guess,” he contemplates, “My mom passed away a few years ago, my dad doesn’t have any siblings, and we stopped seeing my grandparents, ever since my sister came out to them so it’s really just us three.”

“I’m sorry to hear about all that,” Cyrus says placing a soothing hand on T.J.’s, “What exactly happened with your grandparents, if it’s not too much to ask?”

“When my sister came out to us, it was about two years ago. My dad sat me down and said ‘I want you to know that what your sister is feeling right now is completely normal and completely healthy, and I won’t tolerate anyone who tells her otherwise’,” T.J. recites his father’s words like he had just heard them yesterday. “I remember it vividly because I was just starting to seriously question my identity. I think that’s when I knew that I would be okay no matter what, but it was still really difficult for me.”

“I get that,” Cyrus comments, thinking back to his own experience. Despite all the support he got from Buffy, he was still petrified when it came to admitting it to others. He hadn’t even told his parents yet, even though he was sure they have their suspicions already.

“The next year,” T.J. continues, “my sister came out to our grandparents, and they were not accepting at all. So my dad got in a fight with them, and…we haven’t seen them since. His own parents.”

“You’re better off without them,” Cyrus assures him.

“I know,” T.J. says, “It just sucks to know that my own grandparents wouldn’t be proud of who I am. Even though I am.”

Cyrus offers a small smile to the boy and says, “I’m proud of who you are.”

T.J. can’t help but blush and look away bashfully at the compliment. Cyrus is the most caring person he knows, so Cyrus being proud of the person T.J. is has to mean something.

————

After cooling down, T.J. heads downstairs to send Cyrus off. T.J. watches as Cyrus slides on his sneakers by the front door, a silence hanging over them that’s uncharacteristic for their friendship.

“Sorry if that was awkward,” T.J. says in a desperate attempt to release the tension.

“No, I had fun,” Cyrus assures him. “Thanks for having me Mr. Kippen!”

His dad yells ‘anytime’ from his place in the kitchen as Cyrus zips up his jacket. He casts a signature Cyrus smile at T.J. and turns to open the door.

“Cy,” T.J. whispers, stopping Cyrus in his tracks. Cyrus turns around and looks up at the jock who once again can’t bring himself to say what he feels. He settles for, “I’m really glad you’re my friend.”

Cyrus smiles his cutest smile and steps forward. He wraps his arms around TJ’s neck, pulling him into a hug. After a brief moment of shock at the physical intimacy, TJ’s arms find their way around the smaller boy’s waist. He feels as if his heart is about to leap out of his chest. He’s hugging Cyrus! The cutest of all cute boys has his chin resting on his shoulder! He never wants to pull away, but Cyrus reluctantly does after a few too many blissful seconds to be considered just friendly.

Cyrus’s face is painted with a shy smile as he says, “I’m glad you’re my friend too. See ya tomorrow.” His eyes cast a final glance towards TJ wearing a dopey grin as he disappears through the front door, leaving TJ in a dream-like state.

“Cyrus is nice,” T.J.’s Dad says, snapping him out of his haze. T.J. looks to his dad standing by the island in the kitchen, who witnessed the entire encounter. He has a knowing grin plastered across his face.

“What?” T.J. asks, maybe a bit too defensively.

“Nothing,” he replies. “It’s just good to see you happy after what happened at dinner. And happier in general.”

T.J. just nods and smiles to himself, as he walks over to the sink and begins rinsing off the plates from that night’s meal of spaghetti and meatballs. He’s pretty sure he knows what his dad is trying to get at, but he doesn’t want to confirm anything.

“Son, I know I’m not always able to be here for you,” his dad begins, “But you should know there’s nothing you can’t tell me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” T.J. lies. He tries to speed up his kitchen cleaning duties, suddenly feeling an impulse to get out of the conversation as soon as humanly possible.

“Let me just say this,” his dad begins. “I really like Cyrus. And I love you, no matter what. Understand?”

T.J. nods slowly in contemplation of if he should tell his dad the truth or keep perpetuating his poorly constructed lie. He knows his father can see right through him, but he won’t push too hard if T.J. seems uncomfortable. Making a decision, T.J. turns off the faucet and lets out a shake exhale.

“Dad,” T.J. whispers, his voice small and nervous, “I like Cyrus. I’m gay.”

Without hesitating, his father wraps his arms around T.J., his son melting into the embrace. “I’m so proud of you, son,” his dad assures him. “I love you exactly the way you are.”

“How do you feel about both of us being gay?” T.J. asks somewhat jokingly.

“I love you both just as much!” His dad assures him, “But I guess the bloodline ends with you two.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” T.J. laughs.

After a bit, T.J.’s dad says, “For the record, I think Cyrus feels the same way.”

“You think I should tell him?” T.J. asks nervously.

“Yeah. Go get him tiger,” His dad encourages with a playful push. “Lock that boy down. Be a man and ask that boy out.”

“That’s not a statement you hear too often…” T.J. starts before he’s cut off by his father again.

“And then be the sappiest boyfriend in existence with your ‘Cy, I’m happy you’re my friend’,” his dad teases.

“Ugh, you’re the worst” T.J. says, unable to hide the blush that creeps onto his cheeks and the dopey smile that tugs at his lips. God, he is so far gone.

“I have an idea. Your sister has to work on Christmas, why don’t you invite your boy over so you’ll have someone to spend time with?” his dad offers, a mischievous grin gracing his face, “It’d be the perfect time to confess.”

“I knew that was coming,” T.J. says, his cheeks now burning and deep red, ”And he’s Jewish. He doesn’t celebrate Christmas”

“Perfect!” His dad exclaims, “He won’t have plans.”

T.J. sighs and says, “Something tells me you aren’t going to let this go.”

His dad shakes his head no and engulfs his son a tight hug earning a squeal from the basketball player. For a moment, T.J. and his father are carefree and messing around as they used to in old times. T.J. no longer holds a secret from his father, and his best friend in the world knows and accepts his identity. Plus, Cyrus Goodman is gay, cute as hell, and probably the sweetest person on the planet!

#andi mack #tyrus #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #tj smitten #cyrus goodgodimgayandinlovewithtj #tyrus fanfiction #tyrus fanfics #tyrus fanfic

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cecke8 · 6 years

Text

Your Ginger Housemate - Part 13

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So I’ve been trying to create more of an idea of what I’m visualising through the pictures I’m adding. If you refer to Part 12, the picture of the alley is what I visualise behind the apartments. So that’s just something to link and think about.

How could I do something like that? I almost lost control after all this time making sure all I would “behave myself”. Make sure I’m always in a good mood. Make sure I always rein in my anger. Make sure I don’t scare her anymore! That was the deal I made myself when I started living there.

Okay sure, I frighten her sometimes - like when I’m standing in the doorway for a while, but I’ve always scared people from time to time. I guess it’s because, ever since I was really young, I developed the habit of walking really softly.

No one would hear me enter rooms, so they’d turn around and I’d just kinda’ be there. Funny though. Their fear fueled me. Still does, so I just let the habit become an advanced skill of mine. But that fear is reasonable. The fear I must have just given y/n was worse. A lot worse.

How could I do something like that? Ugh!

I kick a trashcan and it goes clattering down the alley for a good five, seven meters? I couldn’t care. The heavy throb in my toes signifies that I belted that thing pretty hard. I’m not gonna lie, it felt good. I feel so wound up, but why... Y/n’s parents! No wonder I wound up.

Behaving “normally” is exhausting me mentally and physically. I have to be so careful all the time. I probably shoulda’ started with a more... cocky persona? That’s how she would define it anyway. Maybe Tyrone shoulda’ been a little less reserved? But then her parents wouldn’t adore me as much as they do. Well, her mom anyhow, her dad is a little trickier.

That’s why I pestered y/n for as much information about her parents as I could get. I wanted to know what they were like so I could figure out the best persona to take on. Patricia, I figured - and figured correctly - would be the most susceptible to charm and modesty. Brandon seemed to be a typical dad. He likes a guy who is dedicated to his aspirations, career and is polite to the women in his life. Simple enough. Seeing and listening to them interact with y/n really set it in stone and told me exactly what to do. Unfortunately, it’s the most restricted I’ve ever been. Even at the circus, I wasn’t as reserved. Jeez, I woulda’ snapped years ago!

I’m striding down the alley, so deep in thought, I’ve just realised it’s drizzling. My hair feels dishevelled and strands keep getting in my eyes. I wrench the grey hood over my head to stop water running down my back. At least only the hood and end of the sleeves are cotton on this thing. The rest is leather. It’ll stand the rain for a while longer yet.

Jeez. What is wrong with me. It’s broad daylight... well it’s raining, but all the same.

This alleyway is particularly unique because it’s like a separate, hidden street. Almost every apartment block connects to it through the fire escape. Y/n’s is special because her apartment has the lowest ladder. Few rungs up and I’m good. Easy to escape undetected, if dark enough. It usually is. That’s why I chose her apartment. It was a good choice apparently. I haven’t felt at ease like this since before... before he left.

Bad thought. Shut up!

I’ve almost gotten to the end of the street-like alley and am becoming more aware of the piercing throb in a couple of my toes. I know it’s painful, it’d almost a searing pain if I wasn’t so ignorant towards the feeling. Over time, that sorta stuff had really just been covered in a layer of numbness. It’s as if my pain receptors have been covered with a heavy layer of fabric. Like a tarp. I know the pains there, it just isn’t a direct problem for me anymore. Some would call it a high pain threshold - and sure, that’s part of it - but it also comes from years of experience.

Just before I get to a legitimate street, I turn left into another small alleyway. Every time I enter this one, my breathing becomes heavy and it feels like all my muscles have tightened. I don’t know why, but I hate it in here. It could be claustrophobia, but I refuse to admit I have such a feeble fear.

It’s a darker ally, sheltered from the rain so you’d think it's dry. It’s not. There are numerous vents and drains that lead back here resulting in constant clouds of steam, mist and drips of water. This alley could only fit one person, there’s barely a gap between my shoulders and the wall.

After manoeuvring under pipes, between vents and over grates, I arrive at my destination. The only abandoned apartment block in the neighbourhood.

It’s a rundown piece of shit that can barely keep out a draft. However, it’s pretty handy when wanting constant entry whether this is scaling the broken fire escape, easing through a smashed window or picking the lock to the door.

Yeah, I’m pretty equipped. This jacket has a fair few inside pockets. Perfect for a small collection of pocket knives, a standard revolver and a small lock kit.

“C’mon now, daddy needs to get dry,” I whisper as crouch down next to the door. I prepare the two small instruments for the lock and get to work. There’s no need. The door creaked open. I roll my eyes.

Terrific. Someone else is here.

As I sneak through, I hear voices arguing.

“Marty, shut up will ya? There was no noise.”

“Terrance, honey, it might be a good idea if he goes and checks hmm? Just in case.”

Great, three people. And one with keen ears apparently.

“Yeah. That’s right. Just in case. She’s right.” The guy who I’m guessing is Marty retorts.

I dunno how I’m gonna deal with the trespassing trio. Maybe when the Marty guy comes round, I’ll kill him. Not with my gun, it’ll be too loud. Ugh, but a knife is too messy - even if it is an enjoyable mess, it’s not something I want to deal with yet. Maybe I’ll knock him out and tie him up. Same with the others? Might work.

“Deedee love,” - seriously? Deedee? - “we can’t keep being so paranoid. No one's there.”

Time to make an entrance.

I sneak around the corner, hoodie down and just to be theatric lean against the wall while a twirl a knife around my fingers.

Yep, there’s three of them. The blond chick Deedee, and the two males. Dunno which is which, but they look pretty similar. Might be brothers.

It takes a while for anyone to notice me. They’re all too entranced by the fire they got going on. Great. Thanks for stinking up the place guys. At least put it near a vent. Sheesh.

Finally, the guy facing me looks up and goes stiff. His mouth opens to yell but I put a finger to my lips. Tellig him to keep quiet. But the other guy has seen gaper and whips around.

“What the fu-”

“Uh-uh. Don’t swear. Not in front of the lady,” I grin as she too whips around. With bulging eyes, the trio watches me walk over and stop next to them. I swing back on my heels, hands behind my back just to mess with them.

“You know, you're stinking out my crib. At least put the fire near a vent. Idiots.” I shake my head. They just stare. The dude with blondie starts to stutter.

“Well spit it out,” I mock.

“W-w-we don’t want no trouble man. We’ll leave. We didn’t know anyone else was using this place.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t go upstairs?” They all sake there heads. The girl is clinging on to guy number one for dear life.

“Oh, goodie,” I say in a sing-song voice, and then drop my smile, “then leave.” I glare at him. He seems to wanna argue, but I start throwing my knife up and down. He gets the point. Hmm... can’t have them blabbering my whereabouts. They seem like the sort to shut up if I threaten ‘em enough.

Before they can react, I lunge at the dude who must be Marty, wrapping my arm around his shoulders and pressing my knife against his neck. Not enough to kill him, but enough to pierce the skin. I feel the small drops of blood trickle past my fingers. A little more pressure wouldn’t hurt...

Restraint Jerome. Restraint.

“Now you two better not leave just yet. I need to talk with, Marty was it?” I ask in his ear and wait for him to nod, I nod also, “Mhm. Because if two leave, then I kill this one and come after you. Got it?” They nod vigorously. I lean in and start whispering into his ear. Occasionally looking at the others with a grin.

“Now, I’m guessing you know who I am. And you know that I’m on a lay-low at the moment. And quite frankly, it’s nice. So I’m gonna’ let you leave. But you’re not going to tell anyone I. Because trust me, I know how to find people, and I will find all of you. But if you leave, don’t come back, and don’t squeak, you live. Yeah?”

He nods. Shaking violently, he tells the others that they’re gonna leave. I let him go, but not before cutting him a little more.

So much for restraint.

**Later**

It’s been a couple of hours and no one has come to investigate. So maybe they did keep their word. I’m a little pleased, but some action would have been fun. I shoulda’ done more to scare ‘em.

Turns out I dislocated three of my toes. I’ve had it happen before, so I knew how to fix ‘em. Hurt like hell, but nothing I couldn’t laugh off. They’re a deep purple, and too tender to put my shoe on comfortably. So I’ve just pressed them against the cold concrete and laid back. It makes me giggle. Gotham has such a gift for turning things into an ice pack.

Laying down like this is really making me how boring my life has become. I’ve been cooped up too long. But any funny business now would give Y/n too much trouble with her parents.

I hope she deals with them properly. At least lies convincingly. I can’t help but sigh. It’s strange, but I think I’m feeling... remorse. Ha, yeah. remorse for scaring her. I can’t deny it. She’s driving me crazy!

She seems so insecure when she talks about herself, but there’s a confidence in her eyes that she doesn’t let escape. Even though emotionally, she’s an open book, I barely know anything about her. We barely know anything about each other. But her smile and her laugh are intoxicating.

Oh, her laugh. It’s so free and contagious. It’s so hard not to laugh with her when I’m trying to string her on. She makes no sense and yet it’s like I’ve known her forever. Not seeing her for days is gonna be hard, but it will be necessary.

I hope she doesn’t stay too upset. I wanna be the one to make her laugh strangely enough. I’m gonna have to give her a good sorry present, and I think I know the perfect thing.

Taglist: @sp00der-m00n @unicornwitch870 @skellingtonarmy @rockyrocket15 @thegirlofwolvesandfangs @hahaha-141 @purexuncreative @aqswdefrgthzjukilop

#Yourgingerhousemate #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska fanfic #jerome valeska xreader #lovingjerome #Gotham #gotham fanfiction #DC comics #Cameron Monaghan #x reader

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were-cheetah-stiles · 7 years

Text

The Recruit (Chapter 1) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley & Reader/OFC

Title: “Day 1″

Warnings: Some violence, sort of, slow burn.

A.N.: I have been quietly sitting back and reading basically every bit of fan fiction for a few weeks now that I can find pertaining to Stiles/TW/Mitch Rapp/Void/American Assassin, and I finally decided to throw my hat into the ring. I get so much joy from everyone else’s work and I just really hope you can all get the same out of this.

Summary: Mitch’s fiancee, Katrina, was brutally murdered in a terrorist attack a year and a half ago. He had been hunting the perpetrators by himself for over a year, but finally came across the radar of Irene Kennedy, the Director of the CIA. She sends him to Stan Hurley to be properly trained at becoming a covert assassin on behalf of the American government. When he agreed to all of this, he never expected to meet Y/N.

Chapter One - Chapter Two

"Who is he?" You asked Stan as you walked up next to him, looking out the window at the black SUV that had come to a halt in the driveway.

"I guess we're about to find out, Y/N." Stan said as he walked away from you, closing the front door behind him.

You watched as the young man, clad in an unzipped gray hoodie, blue plaid shirt, black t-shirt, blue jeans, shaggy dark brown hair and light stubble talked calmly to Stan. He seemed alert, yet relaxed, and carried a hint of a constant smirk on his pink lips... He was handsome. You shook your head, breaking your concentration on his face, and walked back to your room.

You heard the hinges on your door creak, as you opened your eyes and glanced over to the tall figure in your doorway. "Hey, Y/N, we're going out for The Circle." The man said, before ducking out of your room again. You nodded, swung your legs over the side of your bed and laced your boots up.

You watched as Stan, standing in the middle of the group with the new recruit standing across from him in just his tight black shirt, jeans and boots, pontificated to everyone about ‘the mission’. You had heard it a million times before and you were only half listening until you heard Stan say something new.

"Kill me." You heard Stan say calmly as he handed a knife to the young man.

He quickly lunged at Stan with decent technique, but as swiftly as he moved, Stan had pinned him to the ground, with the tip of the blade pressed again his throat even quicker. The man looked bewildered and pressed his large hands against Stan's trying to ensure that the knife didn't get any closer.

Stan backed off, taking his knee from against the new recruit's ribcage, and helped him off the ground. "Why don't you have another go at this... Who against...” Stan scanned the faces of his trainees, and smirked when he saw yours. “Y/N, get in here." Stan insisted.

You looked up at Stan and the man in black, not moving your head, but simply lifting your eyes. You did not look amused. You blinked a few times, then inhaled and took Stan's place in the circle. You hated when he did this. You were the only woman in the group, not a spectacle to be gawked at.

Mitch glanced around and saw the smirks on the faces of the guys in the group. He focused his eyes back on you, not fazed by your gender, but somewhat concerned by the general merriment of the group. He stepped forward and watched you remain unflinching. He was puzzled by your lack of movement; you wouldn't even bring your hands up to protect your face. He threw a punch that you caught in your small hand. You pushed his hand back and then dropped your hand back to your side.

You were quick; he would have to test just how quick before he readjusted his strategy. Mitch threw another punch, which you deflected simply by moving out of the way. He tried to hit you from the other direction, but you backed your head out of the way, then brought your elbow up and hit him on the outside of his face with the outside of your bent arm. He grabbed at his head and stumbled backwards, disoriented. His ear was ringing. He had never been hit like that before.

He shook his head, trying to get the ringing to stop and put his fists up tighter to his face, vowing not to let you best him like that again. He was so busy watching your Y/e/c eyes, waiting for you to divulge what your next move would be by where you looked, that he missed your hand press quickly against his chest, quickly followed by your foot hooking against the back of his knee, bringing him down to the ground. You landed on top of him, pulling his arm across his body in a way that felt like it was about to be dislocated from the socket. You stared straight into his warm brown eyes, still pulling hard, while he thrashed painfully underneath you, only releasing him when you heard Stan start to clap.

You got off of the young man and looked at Stan as you walked back to your place in the circle. "I hate when you do that." You said quietly, as you passed by your mentor.

Stan was smirking, pleased with himself and how his plan of emasculating the new recruit was a success, as he walked passed his protégé. "I know." He simply replied to you, as he helped the muddy young man to his feet. "Maybe one day you'll be as good as her, although it's doubtful." Stan patted him on the back and walked away from the group, heading off towards the main house. "Tomorrow at 0700." Stan yelled at the group, as he left them in the woods.

The new recruit clutched his shoulder and watched as the short, slender, y/h/c haired woman walked back to the house with the group of men. Most of them chatting together, her only chatting with two.

He followed the group back and found an empty room to put his medium sized duffle bag in. He caught a glimpse of the person across the hall as the shadow moved across the room. He watched you walk over, a paperback book folded in half in one hand and an apple pressed against your mouth in the other. You didn’t even notice him, as you pushed the door closed with your foot. He decided to close his too, and he went back to unpacking his minimal belongings.

As the slow and quiet day began to come to a close, you walked into the bathroom with your toothbrush and a wash cloth and began brushing your teeth. You heard a toilet flush behind you, and saw the new man walk out of the stall, rubbing his shoulder and rotating it in an obvious effort to get it to pop. He paused when he saw you standing in front of one of the many sinks and mirrors. He lowered his arm and walked up to the sink next to yours to wash his hands.

He made a mental study of you in his periphery. Your hair was long and wavy from braids, the same way Katrina's used to be, but he could tell was generally pin-straight from how it fell at your roots. You had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of your nose, pierced ears, toned arms, and were barely over five feet tall. He examined your frame as you bent over to spit.

You were wearing a tank top with no bra, and long black leggings, with purple socks over your surprisingly large feet. You rubbed the warm, wet cloth against your face, rung it out, and turned off the water. You glanced over at him, unconsciously placing his hand back over his arm, and you walked away. He realized that he had been staring the entire time, and he shook his head at his own lack of subtlety. He shut off the faucet in front of him and followed you down the hall, to your bedrooms.

No more than ten minutes later, Mitch heard a light knocking on his door. He got up from his bed and opened it, revealing the woman from across the hall standing in front of him.

"Can I come in?" You asked, your voice low but sweet. Mitch stepped out of the way, silently granting you passage, and closed the door behind you. You glanced around the room, seeing no personal items added by him since he got there, except the duffel thrown under his bed. You turned back to him, catching him staring at you once again, and you spoke. "I think I may have dislocated your shoulder a little. I didn't mean to actually do it." You finally said, nodding your head at his arm.

"It's fine." The young man replied.

"No, it's not... sit."

He complied and sat on the edge of the bed. You walked up to him, slowly raising your hands to his shoulder, all while watching his deep amber eyes. A normal person would be enveloped by what your hands were doing snaking under the fabric of his shirt, but he watched your face. It made your heart race a little. You began pressing the tips of your fingers into his skin, looking for the disconnect. You wrapped your delicate and soft fingers around his wrist, pushed your other hand against the place where his neck and his shoulder met, and leaned one knee against the bed next to him.

"Are you going to count?" He asked, knowing what you were about to do.

"Nope." You said as you yanked his wrist up and then pushed his shoulder down, hearing a small pop, signifying that the joint was back in place. The young man exhaled loudly and growled. You released your grip on him and stood up straighter, in front of him again. He rotated his shoulder with ease, and looked up at you watching him. "Better?"

He cracked his neck. "Much. Thanks."

"You shouldn't thank me. I’m the one that did it to you in the first place." He noticed that you always looked like you could crack a smile at any second while you were talking, but never actually would. "What's your name?"

"Mitch."

"You got a last name?" You asked, leaning your hand and weight against his dresser.

"Rapp."

You nodded, never actually cracking that smile that he was becoming more and more curious over with each passing second. He wouldn’t get what he wanted tonight, as the same serious look on your face, that he had seen all day, remained. "Y/N." You pointed to yourself. "I'm sorry about earlier, Mitch." You turned and opened the door.

"You got a last name?" Mitch echoed your question.

"Yea." You raised your eyebrow, and smiled with your eyes as you walked out the door, closing it behind you.

Mitch chuckled lightly to himself, shook his head, and laid back on top of his sheets, thinking about the events of that day.

-> 2

#mitch rapp #american assassin #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #mitch rapp x reader #the recruit aa #the recruit #american assassin au #vince flynn #thomas edison #teen wolf #fan fiction #fan fic writing #fan fic

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