#and then immediate stomp + roar to clear some space for them and give a lil boost to help them get back in the groove | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angsty-omi · 3 years

Text

you get jealous of their manager

suna rintarou; sakusa kiyoomi

angst to fluff, hurt/comfort.

suna rintarou

when rin told you about the new manager, you didn’t expect her to be blonde, curvy, and absolutely gorgeous. honestly, just looking at her made you insecure. the way all the boys gawked at her everytime she walked by. you didn’t care about the boys though, you only cared about a boy, your boyfriend rin. she’s with him longer than he’s with you. practices take up most of his day, so you only saw him once he got to your shared apartment where he was too tired to do anything that exterted energy. to be fair, you were fine just staying in, but imagining him with her during practices made you uncomfortable.

it was even worse when he’d go out to dinner with the team and her. you couldn’t remember the last time he’d even ask you on a date. you hated the way he stopped trying once you started dating. starting to reach the AMs when you called him.

“y/n?” his slurred tone showed that he was drunk.

“suna? where are you? it’s almost 12 am.” you scolded. how could you not? he’s drunk and with a girl that you were very envious of.

“first of all, can you chill? i literally told you that i’d be out with the boys, i don’t understand why you’re getting so upset,”

“upset? you’re literally out with a girl who’s very attarctive” you frustrated.

“oh i see what this is now, you’re jealous and you don’t trust me.”

“it’s not a matter of trust, it’s just i fe-feel uncomfortable and i oh i don’t know wanted to talk about it?” you started to raise your voice. the attempt to set a boundary has failed, and rather was replaced with you being the enemy.

“she’s my friend y/n, get over it because you’ll be seeing a lot more of her,” rin hissed.

“i’m not telling you who you can be friends with or not, but you have to understand where i’m coming from” you murmured.

“just leave me alone, i can be friends with whoever i want, and the last thing i’m going to do is let a bitch dictate that.” suna argued loudly.

it was followed up by silence, with a girl voice cutting in, “rin-rin let’s do this song together!” in a high pitch squeal caught the mic.

“oh so you’re rin rin now huh? i can’t be surprised considering how much time you spend with her!”

“well maybe i like hanging out with her. did you ever think of that y/n? it’s nice to have someone who wouldn’t nag or bitch about me, she doesn’t pry for me to open up,” he attempted to justify his actions.

“okay fine then, if she’s soooo perfect than just date her” words just started spilling out of your brain, and it was too late to take it back.

“maybe i will!” he roared. after he sunk in what he was saying, he followed up with “w-wait i didn’t mea-” trying to save his relationship.

“do whatever you want suna, whether you’re with her or not it’s not my problem anymore, i’m done.” you ended the call, tears freely flowing down your face.

you couldn’t sleep that night. pathetically, you’d hope that suna would at least give you a call back, or any sign that he still cared for you. but he didn’t, and you assumed that was your answer. you would reevaluate the relationship after a good nights sleep on the couch. you couldn’t sleep on the bed due to suna’s lingering scent.

when 4am rolled around, the door opened as quietly as possible. suna assumed that you were asleep in bed, and was prepared to join you. when he walked in the bedroom and saw the bed still made, he panicked. did you really leave? were you actually done with the relationship? he checked everywhere, the bathroom, kitchen, the basement, and not the most obvious place ever. he dialed your phone, and heard loud ringing from the living room. he slapped his forehead in stupidity and made his way over to you. his heart broke at the sight. the way you tried to fit your body with the throw blanket, unaware that you were shivering at the cold. your face was also pale, with dried tears on them. you looked so broken and so drained. immediately, suna carried you off the couch bridal style, and tucked you into the soft king sized bed. he then, moved onto his side and slid under the sheets. it’s only when he grabs your waist is when he feels safe enough to sleep.

five hours later, you awake with dried tears still in your eyes. you wiped them with your arm, and felt weight around your waist. once your eyes were cleared, it was suna. you let yourself comfort in his warmth for just a bit more, knowing that there’s a huge argument to come.

“suna we can’t just not talk about this,” you whispered into his ear, knowing he was awake. he hid in the crook of your neck, “i’m sorry. i’m so so sorry, please take me back.”

“i can’t just accept your apology blindly, we have to set boundaries or else we’ll never move forward.” you sighed while tracing circles on his bare chest.

“i’ll never even look at her again,” his face deadpanned. your laugh vibrated against his chest, “that’s not needed, it’s not really her fault anyways. how about, we spend more time on dates and devote days for each other?”

“anything, princess.”

sakusa kiyoomi

sakusa hated physical touch, the spread of germs with a single handshake grossed him out. that’s why he built a cold exterior to prevent many from getting close. however, when he met you, you happened to be the exception and you took pride in the fact that he was only comfortable with you. he’ll never admit it to you though, and claims he only ‘endures’ your hugs. although, you knew your limit, you would never show affection in front of people. if there’s one thing sakusa hates, it’s PDA.

so you couldn’t really blame the new cute manager for flirting with him, because it seemed like he was single. listen, you trusted sakusa with your whole heart, but you just wanted to see how he would react with a girl flirting with him.

you hid behind the door, eavesdropping behind the door.

“sakusa-senpai, can you please help me up?” the cute manger whined.

“can you not get up yourself?” sakusa groaned.

“no i think i twisted something,” as a girl, you knew exactly what she was doing and her execution was poor. you rolled your eyes, assuming sakusa too would know what she was doing.

but he didn’t.

“thank you, sakusa-senpai!” she squealed, and then what you can assume, she hugged him. because then it caught him by suprise, and they both fell together, with her on top of him. you didn’t hear him scolding her, rather he was laughing. he was happy with her presence when he wouldn’t even physically show it with you. you decided to just walk in and stop this.

amidst of their laughter, both heads looked up at you. “sakusa, don’t you have to get home soon?” with an eyebrow raised.

“uh actually sakusa-senpai it’s getting dark, mind if you could walk me home?” she babbled.

“fine, y/n you can walk yourself right?” he said casually, while packing up his things.

“y-yeah i guess” you stammered.

on your walk home, you were reevaluating what just happened. no longer did you feel special anymore. your brain started to overthink itself, why did they look better as a couple? and why was he so relaxed around her? was i just not the right person? has he found his true love? all these scenarios made you start to tear up. you were in love with the germaphobic man, for god sakes.

when you got the shared apartment, you immediately took a shower, knowing that sakusa was going to nag you anyways when you got home.

then, you started on dinner and chopping up some vegetables when you heard the door open. he nodded at you, acknowledging your presence and was waiting for the hug you gave him everytime he came home. but you didn’t, and he awkwardly just stood there for good minute or two. to your suprise, he was the first one to make the move. he wrapped his arms behind you and resting his head on your neck. immediately, you shrugged him off.

he furrowed his eyebrows, “is there something wrong?”

“i don’t know, is there something wrong?” you repeated his question.

“i wouldn’t know, that’s why i asked.” he bellowed.

you put the knife down and faced him, “you know i love the double standard of how i have to shower before i get to touch you, but that whore gets to touch you whenever,” you ranted.

“our new manager? you can’t be serious. we fell, it was an accident.”

“maybe you thought it was, but i know what she was doing because i, too am a girl. if you guys just ‘fell’ why did it take so long for you to get back up? why’d you let her touch you for so long?” you questioned.

“i wasn’t thinking about it, not everything i do in life is rotated around germs-”

“except when it’s with me” your voice cracked. “right? it’s when it’s with me, that must be it. that’s why you never show any affection, but it’s okay for you because you’ve gotten tons from me and her!” you raved.

he tried to wrap his around you, but you moved out the way.

“don’t touch me with that whore’s filth,” you muttered, turning off the burner and stomped to your shared bedroom, slamming the door. your insecurities were roaring on the inside. sakusa chose to sleep on the couch, thinking you needed space. but, that was the least thing you wanted. you wanted him to beg, or to at least apologize.

over the following days, you didn’t wait for him outside of practice. in fact, the only time he saw you was in the morning before classes and at night when you left leftovers for him in the kitchen. after the argument, he pushed everyone away, especially with the new manager. he only wanted one person’s touch, yours. and to achieve that, he had to put in some effort. that night when he got home, he went straight to the shower. you assumed it was just a normal silent treatment day, so you went to bed scrolling.

you felt the weight on the other side of the bed. knowing who it was, you continued to aimlessly scroll on tiktok. sakusa abruptly grabbed your waist and coddled you, drowning you in pecks all around your face.

“mh.. sakus.. sa.. mh..” continuously getting cut off with his cute pecks on your lips. you decided to let go of the whole manager situation, and let yourself to just be happy. you wrapped your arms around his neck and put him even closer to you. he then pulled away and you dramatically groaned.

putting his face close to yours, “i love you y/n l/n.” before continuing.

a/n: if you like this series please request some characters you’d like to see!

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #sakusa angst #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #suna x reader #suna imagines #suna x y/n #suna angst

2K notes · View notes

strawbxrryneptune · 3 years

Text

HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT

You're the head cheerleader at UA.

We're gonna say its UA university, so like class 4-A.

Bakugou is your boyfriend

He plays on the football team 😫

But he got suspended for a little because he saw Deku (yes I'm adding Deku in this, @ me why dont you)

Deku plays on the rival team, he switched schools cause he felt like he wasnt reaching his full potential.

Bakugou basically broke Deku's mf leg, it's a surprise he wasnt kicked off the team, but the he's the star player.

The only reason the UA football team is even in the nationals is cause of Bakugou.

Anyway, Kiri and Sero were roasting the absolute shit outta him for getting suspended.

"PLEASE- HE COULDN'T EVEN KEEP THE BEST SPOT ON THE TEAM KEKEKEK"

*LMAO* "DAMN BAKUBRO, YOU GOT FLAMED"

Bakugou was ready to blast all their asses to the moon and back, until Denki said that he probably couldnt even keep a spot on the cheer squad, it's even more brutal than football and the outfits are too risque.

It went dead silent when poor bby said that, cause everyone knew not to challenge Bakugou.

He immediately stood up from his spot on the couch in the study hall, marching over to Denki and grabbing him by the collar.

"More brutal than football? Hah, you're out of your goddamn mind, Sparky. I can do that shit anyday, even in that girly ass skirt."

Denki smirked

"Wanna bet?"

And that's how he found himself wearing a custom made UA cheer uniform, face red in embarrassment but still determined to not chicken out. If he got through this, he'd get $50 from everyone in the squad except for Mina

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

When Bakugou had come to you, red in the face and hands shaking in embarrassment, asking for a cheer uniform, you almost passed out in shock.

The Katsuki Bakugou, star Football player, top of his class in strength and brains, wanted to cheer? Nah, you were buggin. He wouldn't tell you why, only a harsh, "You gonna give me the uniform or not?" Before giving you a quick and kind of violent kiss on the cheek, scampering off with the bright orange fabric in his hands.

Leading up to the big game for the finals, he would hang around during practice and watch you command the girls, having them jump and twist into complicated positions. You spot him peeping and called him over, teasingly asking him if he could do a cartwheel, not expecting him to actually do one. He has almost perfect form, a little wobbly on the drop down but beautiful nonetheless. You pursed your lips, looking him up and down before clapping your hands loudly, causing him to jump.

"Change of plans, ladies! We now have a new member joining the team, at least for the game next week. I'll need you to be understanding and patient in teaching him the routine, and no making fun!!"

The other girls nod understandingly, surrounding him despite his yells and protests.

You smirk to yourself.

This is gonna be so much fun.

♡♡

A week passes, and you're in the changing room with the girls, handing out their uniforms. You get to the bottom of the bin, and realize theres a pantsuit. You widen your eyes in shock. If the pantsuit is in there, than that means-

"Y/N IM GOING TO KILL YOU"

Shit.

You jog out of the locker rooms, looking around until you see a shaking head of ash blonde hair. You make your way over to him, stifling a laugh when you see him wearing large sweats, the outline of the orange skirt peeking out. He doesnt have a sweatshirt on, so you're blessed with the sight of his pecs and abs bulging out, sweat already dripping down his body due to the heat of the stadium and the embarrassment racking his body.

"I'm so sorry, Katsu. I didnt realize I gave you the girl version of the uniform."

He scoffs, subconsciously reaching up to tug at the crop top.

"Just get me the damn boy version, you shitty-"

"ALRIIIGHT EVERYONE, ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE!!"

You both jump at the sound of the announcers voice, the crowd roaring back.

"WELL THEN GET READY, FOLKS. WE HAVE A WONDERFUL PREFORMANCE FROM THE UA CHEER SQAUD. GIVE EM A HAND."

You look at Bakugou in apology, before rushing the girls out, gesturing for him to hurry as you run out onto the field, the UA side cheering loudly while the rival team boos. Bakugou let's out a huff, shoving his sweats down and running out with you, not looking up. The minute the crowd sees him running with you, the stadium fills with laughter and wolf whistles, some of his teammates fanning themselves in mockery. He growls at them, intimidating but not scary due to the bright orange crop top and skirt he's donning.

The music starts and everyone gets into formation, Bakugou at the far right and you at the left. You start to do your routine, shaking your hips and yelling along to the music, moving around and doing flips. You form a pyramid, Bakugou on the base and you somewhat in the middle. The top girl flips off, does a twirl in the sir and lands in front of you, shouting the UA cheer before you all follow suit, cheering on your team while shimmying around. You turn to see how Bakugou is doing during the end, and the sight that greets you is heaven;

He's heaving for hair, sweat slicking down his hair and dripping down his abs, the skirt flowing and moving along with his thick thigh, which tremble from exertion. He's panting hard, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to nail a pose, wobbling slightly. You gulp hard, shaking your head to clear the thoughts starting to surface, thoughts of fucking him in that uniform, sucking his cock from under the skirt, riding him in your uniform, lifting the hem to see where you're connected. Ripping the crop top to see his puffy nipples, making him moan and tremble underneath you from the pleasure, calling him a cute little slut for wearing that little piece of fabric.

You break from your thought when the music cuts out, roars and screams deafening, even the opposing team cheering for you and the beefy man in the skirt.

You all bow and trot off the center felikd, making your way to the benches you drink water before the team starts playing. Bakugou makes his way over to you, gulping down water from his bottle. Some of it spills out his mouth, rolling down his throat, scattering when his Adam's apple bobs. It makes a trail into the swell of his pecs, disappearing. You look up his body slowly, face heating in embarrassment when you meet his eyes, a cocky smirk on his face when he realizes you were ogling him.

"Ya see sumthin' you want, Baby?"

You grit your teeth at him, grabbing his collar and dragging him off into the space between the bleachers.

He sputters at you when you reach under his skirt and grab the barely concealed bugle there, smirking up at him.

"See sumthin you want, Baby?"

You taunt, rubbing him through the fabric of his boxers.

He groans from above you, muttering out a breathy "Its from adrenaline-"

Before pushing his lips against yours, sucking your lip into his mouth while his hips stutter against your hands. You pull away, grinning when you see him chase your lips.

"Are you sure it's from adrenaline, or is it cause you were prancin around out there like some pretty little whore, hm?"

Bakugou clenches his eyes shut, blushing hard and growling low in his throat.

"Shut the fuck up. I didnt do it for that-"

"Well you still did it, and you looked so good, too, 'Suki. Wanted to suck your cock the whole time."

He whimpers at that, hips moving forward to push against your hand more, pre leaking out and making his boxers sticky against your palm.

"Mm, you like that? Like me praising you? Calling you a good boy and telling you how much I wanted your fat cock shoved down my throat? "

His head falls against your shoulder, moaning into the side of your neck as his balls tighten, cum soaking his boxers and dripping out onto your hand. You lick up his neck, making him shudder.

"There you go, pretty boy."

♡♡

When the game is over, he stomps over to the squad, snatching their money aggressively before making him way back to you, scowling when you land a harsh smack against his ass.

"Is it just me, or is Bakugou glowing?"

♡♡♡

@hanji-is-life your Bakugou in a skirt inspired me to write this Bakugou in a skirt.

Masterlist

#bakugou thirst #katsuki bakugou smut #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo smut #cheerleader!bakugo

785 notes · View notes

peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

Jake renting a stick shift and holding Amy hand on the gear stick hc

(I keep forgetting that most American cars are automatics? So Jake keeps shifting gears in all my fics anyway... but also his Mustang IS a stick shift, Amy says she wants to learn it during the bet! So he doesn't really need to rent it)

"This is far more terrifying than I thought." Amy mumbles, more to herself, but Jake hears her even over the roar of the car's motor.

"You're doing good." He tries to reassure her, even as he whinces a little at another uproar of the car. "But you should really shift into third gear at some point."

"What? Oh! Shit, I-" The car jumps and rocks as Amy stomps on the clutch. "Okay, that was up, middle, then up again and-"

She shifts only slightly wrong, right into fourth, and the car is definitely going to jump again or worse, if Jake didn't quickly grab Amy's hand on top of the gear shift to push it into third before she lets go of the clutch.

"I'm sorry." She whimpers, and he can feel her hand's death grip onto the stick under his.

"Ames, the worst that can happen is you stall the car," he lies to comfort her, "and then we start it again. Relax. You're learning."

They're driving on the most deserted dirt road he could find near a major metropolis, which isn't saying much, but at least there's no really big buildings she could crash them into, and no oncoming traffic to veer off into either. And he knows that Amy is a good driver, anyway, but the tension and fear is palpable even in the passenger seat.

It had been more of a teasing joke back during their rooftop 'date', but a few weeks ago Amy had mentioned it again, while she was watching him shift with ease during their drive out to the Hamptons to question some big shot involved in a major drug case. How she'd always wanted to learn how to drive a gear shift car, but her dad only ever learned how to drive automatic himself and couldn't teach her, saying she wouldn't ever need it anyway and that it would be a waste of time. So of course Jake had offered himself and his beloved car to his girlfriend immediately.

Which brought them to this dirt road, at around 7pm, the lights of the day slowly fading out as the headlights of his car equally slowly drifted up and down the street, while Amy charged through the gear settings and shifted her own terror up to eleven. It seems that being faced with something that she wasn't immediately amazing at was one of Santiago's unspoken fears, which Jake could've told you even before he'd started seriously dating her. Mixing that with her father's clear dissaproval did not make things better.

He grips her hand a bit tighter again as she slows down the car so she'll shift back into second at the right point, only stuttering for a moment.

"See? You're already getting better."

"We should stop." She says out of the blue, slowing the car down even more until it comes to a gentle stop on the side of the road, perfectly parked in a free space as she would any other car. She's still not letting go of the gear stick, and he's definitely not letting go of her hand either as he watches several emotions run across her face, none of which he likes. He knows Amy hates failing at something, and she hates to show that even more, even if it's just the two of them. She's probably read several online tutorials and watched instructional videos, and mentally rehearsed a step-by-step list, but it's still a matter of feeling things out with the clutch and learning to listen to the little sounds of the motor. But if he tells her that, she won't listen anyway, or give up completely in order to not make a fool of herself any more.

"No one's good at this their first time round, babe. I stalled the car every five metres when my mom started teaching me."

She's still not listening, he can tell, and he can also tell that she's mentally berating herself, so he squeezes her hand again and continues.

"We can give it another go on the weekend? Only practice makes perfect, and you're already getting pretty good."

"I don't want to waste your time." She almost whispers, and then, slightly louder "and I don't want to break your car."

"At this point it mostly breaks itself." He shrugs before squeezing her hand one more time, and this time she finally lets go of the stick and lets him turn her hand around, interlace his fingers with hers. Her skin is cold and clammy, and he hopes he can warm her up as his thumb runs across it. "And there is not a second with you I'd ever consider wasted."

"Cheesy." She quips, but her smile is not quite there.

"True, though." He pulls their interwined hands up to gently kiss hers. "I'd do 1000 hours of practice with you if that's what it takes to make you perfect."

"The saying is 10,000 hours of practice." She can't help but correct him.

"Well, that then. Plus a thousand push ups." He smiles, and she smiles back for a second, at least. "C'mon, let's switch seats. Or do you wanna give it a try and drive home?"

The panic is back on her face almost immediately.

"No, Jake, I can't, in- in Brooklyn?! No, oh god-"

"Joking! Babe, I was joking. I'll drive you home."

She takes a deep breath to collect herself before stepping out of the car, and he waits at the front of the hood to catch her into a hug, which she almost melts into.

"I'm not letting go until you say you're okay." He whispers into her hair, and she sighs.

"I'm okay. Just angry at myself."

"For what? For wanting to learn something new?"

She leans out of the hug without letting go and looks down, shaking her head.

"For... for failing, I guess. My dad already said I shouldn't learn stick shift, that I'd be bad at it. I was gonna prove him wrong and surprise him. But he's always going to be right in the end."

"I know you don't like being bad at something, but you're already better than most people starting stick shift. And even if you weren't, who cares? Like I said, we'll keep practicing until you're so good at it that you can do donuts on your dad's driveway just to prove a point. Until then, nobody's seeing you mess it up but me, that's why I picked this place."

"You're still seeing it." She mumbles, staring down even as there's no space between them. It almost hurts to realise that she's still so scared of failing in his eyes, that she thinks he could think badly about her if she's not perfect from the get go, even concerning something as unimportant as driving a certain type of car. He pulls her closer again, her slightly shaky hands finding their way to his jacket lapels.

"And do I strike you as a particularly judgemental person? Or as anyone who has the right to judge, anyway?" He kisses her before she can answer, and refuses to let go of her even an inch. "You couldn't ever fail in my eyes, Ames. Even if you fail at first. You're amazing, and I know you're strong-willed enough to bite into anything and not let go until you've resolved it." She kisses him right back for that, and they kind of forget themselves in the moment until a cold rush of wind makes Amy shiver.

He can see her wipe a tear out of the corner of her eye as she settles down in the passenger seat. It weirdly suits them, he thinks, that they'd have such an emotional heart-to-heart over something as random as a driving lesson.

He drives on in comforting silence, the heater on full blast to warm his always freezing girlfriend after keeping her outside the car for longer than necessary. Her still cold-ish fingers find his idly sitting on top of the gear stick, and he catches them between his thumb and pointer before she can pull away.

"Thank you." She says without much need of further explanation. It's the unspoken and spoken support, the clear declaration of "I'll be there for the best and the worst" that she's still struggling with accepting, not being used to it from others. Jake hopes he can get her used to it from him, because he can't ever see it changing, and he really wants her to know that.

"Any time. Any place. Always." He iterates, and now it's her turn to squeeze his hand.

"Should you shift up?" She asks quietly, and he hears the slight rise of the motor at the same moment.

"Good catch." He smiles, and she smiles back properly as he shifts, holding onto her hand still.

She's going to command his car with ease as perfectly as she commands everything else in his life soon enough, he knows.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet

34 notes · View notes

fantastic-rambles · 3 years

Text

The Snakes’ Deception

Fandom: Haikyuu!! (@aikk00's Racing AU)

Characters (in order of appearance): Kozume Kenma, Kuroo Tetsurou, Yaku Morisuke, Sakishima Isumi, Daishou Suguru, Fukunaga Shouhei, Yamamoto Taketora, Haiba Lev, other Nekoma members (not mentioned by name)

Warnings: Physical Violence, Language

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: When the Snakes, led by Daishou Suguru, come to challenge Kuroo for the title of Drift King, the Nekoma Crew isn’t going to take that lying down. But when the Snakes start to play nasty, the stakes are raised even further, and Kuroo has to fight to stay calm and prove that he’s the undisputed champion.

[A/N: RIP my dozen other drafts for other stories. I actually was planning to write this a few days before the Daishou art (also by aikk00), except I knew practically nothing about drift racing so I needed to do research, lul. I watched Tokyo Drift, some Initial D, some Grand Tour, and did a lot of reading online on drift racing and drifting in general, but tbh, I still don’t quite understand the mechanics (I don’t drive stick and I can’t go out and learn how to drift), so I apologize if this is horribly inaccurate. :P]

"The road condition looks good today, but it's still a little wet from earlier. Watch yourself going into the turns so you don't end up spinning out. The Snakes will probably do something though, especially since they asked you to race with Sakishima before Daishou. It should be okay when you're in the lead, but be ready to take defensive measures when you're chasing. My guess is that they'll try to take advantage of your skill at closing the gap and your power-over drift to orchestrate some sort of accident," Kenma commented quietly without looking up from his laptop, his fingers tapping away as he inputted a continuous stream of data. He seemed oblivious to the roar of the crowd outside the car, and Kuroo reached over to tousle his black-and-gold hair affectionately.

"Got it, Kenma. Anything else?"

"I know you won't listen, but you should just go all-out from the start. Not your usual way of racing. But if you do end up chasing, just do a normal drift and keep space between you and Sakishima. If they are aiming for an accident, it's more likely to happen when you're on the outside, so it'll slam into your side and Sakishima will be safe. But your numbers look good. I'm just going to tell Yaku-san to put a little more air into your rear tires," Kenma replied, closing the lid on his laptop and pushing open the passenger-side door, letting the sound of cheering and taunts into the vehicle. After he'd left and closed the door, Kuroo rolled down his window to light a cigarette, letting the smoke drift out into the night sky. Kenma hadn't said anything that he hadn't expected--especially with regard to the Snakes--but it was always reassuring to get their analyst's perspective before a race. Kenma wasn't the type to get fired up like the rest of the crew, but that cool-headed analysis was part of the reason they were able to climb so high in the rankings despite not always having the best cars or the best drivers. The ridiculous title of "Drift King" that he'd somehow ended up with was the result of Kenma's work as much as his own.

Still, Kenma was right. Even if it meant getting into an accident, Kuroo didn't intend to change the way he drifted. Part of the thrill of these races was the pure adrenaline high from going fast, especially when there was the risk of injury or even death. It was the reason why he'd mastered the power-over drift so that he could keep accelerating through the turn, and swung close enough to his opponents during his chases to make them panic. Even against the Snakes and their underhanded dealings, he'd show them that his way of fighting was still better, no matter what they threw at him.

He looked up when a shadow fell over him as Yaku leaned over his open window, the electric pump in his hand.

"You're good to go, Kuroo. Go ahead and show off," Yaku shouted over the din. Kuroo nodded, flicking his cigarette out the window and rolling up the glass. Yaku stepped back as he revved the engine, pulling up to the starting line where Sakishima was already waiting. Unlike most racers, Kuroo preferred chasing from the start to throw his opponent off his game. Before he'd inherited the title of Drift King, he'd been known as the Comeback Kid for his knack for overcoming what was traditionally seen as an unfavorable position. But the psychological benefit of overtaking the opponent and the pressure it put on the other racer, in addition to his skill with his clean lines and sharp angles that allowed him to do so consistently, had eventually shot him to the top of the Tokyo drifting world.

At the signal, Sakishima peeled past the starting line, and Kuroo quickly shot after him, staying close to his tail as they sped down the course. Even though his heart was racing, his head was completely clear, every sense focused on the view just beyond his windshield. Both he and Kenma were confident that Sakishima wouldn't try anything until the turn, but that was no reason to relax, especially at the speeds that they were going. Still, nothing happened when they reached the first clipping point, and Kuroo's eyes narrowed as he quickly estimated the distances and speeds between their cars, making his calculations swiftly and throwing himself into a drift just a heartbeat after Sakishima.

And it was perfect. His hand rested casually on the wheel as his tires squealed, sending up plumes of smoke as the tail of his car whipped around the curve, flying nearly parallel to Sakishima. The Snake seemed rattled as he spun into the next turn, turning slightly wide as Kuroo effortlessly stuck to him, their cars nearly touching as Kuroo grinned. It was pretty clear already which of them was the better drifter, not that it had ever been a question.

He let the car carry itself into the third point with just a few adjustments on his side, almost laughing as Sakishima had to drag on his own wheel to make the turn. The perfect chance presented itself almost immediately, and he aimed for the gap in Sakishima's barely controlled swing. But then, suddenly, the other car was spinning out as the Snake overcompensated, an out-of-control, two-ton wrecking ball flying toward him.

Kuroo jerked his wheel, pulling himself out of the drift and spinning out himself, the two cars making donuts on the road until he couldn't tell left from right. But the ominous crunch of metal never came, and when his car finally screeched to a stop, Kuroo slapped himself out of the harness and kicked his door open, stepping out onto the asphalt and casting his glare out at the spectators, looking for one specific slit-eyed face in particular.

"Daishou!" he bellowed, stomping toward the crowd and seizing the Snake by the collar, dragging him over the barrier. "What the fuck was that?"

But the other man just stared at him, all wide-eyed innocence. "'What the fuck' was what, Kuroo-san? Isumi made a mistake. Everyone saw that. He's not used to wet roads, but that's why I asked you to run with him so he could get some practice, because you're the only one good enough to not get hurt if he really fucks up. Like he did."

"Don't give me that bullshit!" Kuroo spun and slammed Daishou onto the ground, making the Snake wince as his back made contact with the asphalt. "That trick had your slime smeared all over it. You wanted to use Sakishima to take me out so you'd win the next run by default. If I hadn't been expecting something like that from you, I'd probably be in an ambulance on my way to the hospital right now."

Sakishima had caught up to them and was now clinging to Kuroo's arm, trying to pull him off while babbling insincere apologies. Kuroo shrugged him off impatiently as Daishou's hands landed on his wrist, trying to make him let go, but Kuroo shook him like a terrier with a rat, the adrenaline and testosterone giving him an incredible high.

"Really, Kuroo-san. Ask anyone. They would all say that it's a normal accident," Daishou protested. "You know these kinds of things happen all the time. But you're okay, Isumi's okay. No harm, no foul, right?"

The crowd was murmuring in the background, but Kuroo couldn't hear what they were saying through the blood pounding in his ears. He was just drawing his fist back to punch that smarmy smile off the Snake's face when a deluge of water crashed over both of them. Sputtering, he looked up to see Shouhei holding an empty bucket, Kenma standing beside him.

"Cooled off, Kuro?" Kenma asked in his deadpan voice as he approached them. "Or should I ask Fukunaga to get another bucket?"

Kuroo grimaced, shaking the water out of his eyes and hair as he leaned back slightly, still not letting Daishou go. Kenma crouched beside him, speaking softly, so that the crowd couldn't hear.

"You know that the Snakes are just like this. To everyone else, this does look like a normal accident. If you go any further, you're the one that's going to get a bad reputation. Right now, we can still pass it off as the heat of the moment. Let him go, Kuro."

"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Kuro," Daishou taunted. Kuroo's expression shut down, and he drew back his arm again. But this time, Kenma clung to it, still hissing in his ear.

"Stop it, Kuro. You know that everyone says that. They've been saying it for years. It doesn't mean anything. Stop letting him get to you!"

Kuroo grimaced again, but he listened to Kenma, letting his friend quietly talk him down until he was calm enough to shove Daishou away and get up. Accepting a towel from Shouhei, he tousled his hair dry while glaring at Daishou, who got back to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Sakishima-san forfeited the run," Kenma continued, still talking in his flat, measured tone. "So you'll be up against Daishou later. Are you up to it?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm ready to beat his ass," Kuroo snarled, and Kenma nodded at Shouhei, who ran across the asphalt to retrieve Kuroo's car. They'd probably replace the rear wheels to be safe, and then Kenma would have to run his checks again, but when they were done, his car would be better than new and more than ready to run the cheating bastard into the ground.

He reached into his pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes, bending over to accept Kenma's offer of a light, and took a deep drag to steady his nerves. Being emotional during a race was the fastest way to get a ride to the morgue, so he needed to re-center himself. By then, the rest of his team had caught up to him, and Tora's particularly heated spiel about Daishou and his team helped bleed away most of the anger as they walked back to the starting line. Kenma had slipped away at some point, and Yaku was nowhere to be seen, so they were probably working on the car while he settled down. Really, he didn't deserve his friends.

By the time they arrived back at the beginning, the cool night air had washed away the rest of his irritation, which was probably Kenma's intention in making him walk back with the others. Shouhei and Yaku had just finished installing new tires, and Kenma was hunched over his laptop again on the curb, only looking up briefly when Kuroo sat down next to him.

"Thanks."

Kenma shrugged, his face bleached by the light from his screen. "I'm just doing my job."

"I mean earlier."

Kenma shrugged again, and a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the clicking of the keyboard. The rest of the team was huddled around the car, making checks and occasionally bringing Kenma more numbers, gradually shifting to sit around their captain and his brain, filling the silence with their chatter as other drifters made their runs.

"Hey, wait! You're playing a game, Kenma!" Lev protested, peering over Kenma's shoulder. "What about the race?"

"Kuroo will be fine," Kenma replied calmly as Kuroo looked over at his screen too, which seemed to be displaying the view through a sniper's scope. "His car's fine, and Daishou wants to beat Kuroo. If he tries the same thing, it'll be suspicious, and even if he did, if Kuroo doesn't spin out again, then Daishou will lose. And Kuroo is better than him, so if he does try anything else, it'd be more likely that he'd mess up and Kuroo would still win. His best chance at this point is a fair fight, and that means Kuroo could drive laps around him all day."

Kuroo grinned, standing up and stretching. "Well then, I guess that's my cue to get ready. I'll see you all at the finish line."

He walked over to his car, standing by the driver's door and just running a hand over the shining, red exterior for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, he got inside, strapping himself down. The familiar feeling of exhilaration that he got just before a run made him smile as he pulled into place behind the next pair of cars, watching out of the corner of his eye as Daishou pulled up next to him.

And then, soon enough, they were flying down the road, Kuroo chasing again, keeping the pressure on his opponent. As Kenma had said, there was no way for Daishou to beat him, and he proved that as he took the lead at the very first bend, hitting the edge perfectly while gunning his engine through the whole course, making the best run that he'd probably ever done and leaving Daishou in his dust. If it was possible, he was even sharper on the turns than he had been against Sakishima, pushing himself and his car to the utmost limit. And there was no better feeling than watching the Snake come up to him to shake his hand after his loss, smiling like it hurt his teeth.

"As expected of the Drift King. But it won't last forever. Someday, someone will knock you off that throne."

And Kuroo had smiled back, the smirk that he knew infuriated Daishou more than anything else.

"Come at me whenever you want. I'll beat you down every time."

[A/N2: This isn't KuroKen. They're just really good childhood friends, so Kenma knows how to calm Kuroo down because they've been part of each other's lives for so long, and Kenma in particular is good at paying attention to people. Kuroo gets pissed at Daishou for calling Kenma his "girlfriend" not because of the implication that he's "whipped" (because Kuroo is perfectly secure in his masculinity), but rather because I have a headcanon that Kenma got teased a lot for being "girly" (weak, thin, kinda androgenous, etc.) growing up, so Kuroo still gets upset when that's used to insult his best friend (even though Kenma honestly doesn't give a fuck). But they're not in a romantic relationship; they just spend a lot of time together.

Of course, if you wanna interpret it as KuroKen, that's your prerogative, but that wasn't my intention in writing this.]

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hq #hq!!#hq racer au #fan fic #fanfic #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo #daishou suguru #daisho suguru #daisho #daishou #nekoma #mine #at least i finally wrote something lol

88 notes · View notes

itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

“R:B” CHAPTER 1 (Complete)

TRANSLATION & RAWS: NARU-KUN

The murderous wilderness was spreading.

The rugged terrain that both feet step on connects to the horizon beyond. There is nothing to block and the dry air caresses the skin. The blue night that stretched above his head was so deep that it reminded him of the jet black of the universe.

Desolate, vast space.

A casual, cold and lonely world.

However, something is refreshing. There are no shackles or ways of fastening. Everything is refreshing. It is formed by the power itself and only the will determines the future. Strict, tough, lazy, free.

So he ran as his heart commanded.

It didn't make sense, but there was no city, so he hurried.

The feeling of the hard earth is transmitted to the feet. It is the dry and dusty wind that makes the hair flutter. The exhaled breath is hot. Heat invades and overflows the body. It is painful. However, his face was broken. There was a type in which the mind and the body were elevated.

The meat moves, the bones are removed and the blood flow runs. The cells of the body are full of something fresh.

He moved his limbs with all his might and kicked the ground with all his might. He kept running all the way, forever. Still, the world is wide. Overwhelmingly broad. It was so high that he could see it, and it was deep to the bottom.

It is a reason.

When he realized it, his heart broke free. The tiny body and the vast world became one through the soul.

Will come here one day. He always thought so.

When he can he will come here. He has always expected it.

He simply cannot admit that there is no such place.

++++++++++

The intangible irritation was eroding Suoh Mikoto.

It's hot and humid, midnight in the middle of summer. Countless voices echoed out of nowhere in the alley where Suoh was.

Angry. Hoarsely. They scream. And the shot that goes through them.

However, the most striking sound is probably that of flames, which burns violently at night. When Suoh's team, “Homura”, sharpens their fangs, it is always the sound that flows on the battlefield. The dissonance of destruction echoed down the alley, transmitting the warmth of fighting spirit and madness.

Suoh takes out the cigarette as he walks, lights it, inhales it slowly into his lungs, and exhales.

The dissonance grew stronger toward the back of the alley.

What illuminates the area is the unreliable streetlight. However, at the destination, a creepy light reflects off the wall of the building and flickers. Fire and flame. If you look closely, you can see the traces of destruction on the nearby walls and on the ground.

The burning smell of fireproofs pierces the nose and gives heat, which is different from the sun during the day, the upper arm clings to the sword. Signs of intense violence. However, Suoh's expression doesn't budge. There is an obligatory atmosphere somewhere and he walks in silence.

Something was found in the darkness of the alley.

Is a person. The fallen man moved as he approached the corporal. Suoh's line of sight moves in a hurry.

Apparently he was weak. The well-tanned skin and deeply carved features are not Japanese. The clothes he was wearing were torn, and conspicuous burn marks were visible.

The man staggered, but when he noticed Suoh at his side, he shook his face.

"Hey."

He yelled briefly and pointed to the gun he was holding.

Suoh looks at whoever is pointing it with an uninteresting look. Smoke and exhale.

"...Get lost."

Low, thick and dry voice. Still, it is a mysterious bright voice.

On the other hand, when the man repositioned his gun with both hands, he repeated the shallow breathing.

A strong man, perhaps routine, who has come into contact with violence. But now, the man's eyes lacked calm judgment. All that remains, is a simple fear of irrational and mysterious things.

Suoh's lips, who had added a cigarette again, closed and distorted.

Just a few moves, "Ka".

Immediately afterward, the man fired while screaming.

A sharp shot explodes and the flame flickers. But almost at the same time, a light that far exceeded the fire swirled between the two.

It is not a flame, it is a high density mass of "power" in the form of a flame. The fired bullet was swallowed by the flame that suddenly appeared and disappeared with the flame. A momentary event. However, the living flame is etched in the mind of the viewer as a burn mark.

The man screamed loudly and threw his gun at him to escape. A monster, screaming in the alley. Suoh looked at the back of the fleeing man with his severed face. Then he inhales a lot and exhale.

Purple smoke spills into a windless alley and melts into the humid night air. Unknowingly, his eyes chased the smoke, and Suoh lifted his chin and looked up.

This area is an old commercial district. The multi-tenant buildings lined up have concrete walls that narrow the summer night sky. It appears to be at the bottom of the hole or even inside it.

From the alley where sound and heat are muddy as starch, only the fine purple smoke that is gracefully exhaled escapes into the clear sky. Suoh felt the irritation focus on the rest of his body.

Suoh waved the cigarette roughly, hit the soles with a step, and started walking again.

At the end of the alley.

Finally, the alley was cut and he went out into an open space. It is a warehouse built along the old street and a parking lot for large vehicles prepared in front. Immediately, the sound and heat that doubled in the alley rushed like a tsunami.

Many men fight two-handed.

One is a group of people of different ages and races who continue to shoot in the warehouse. The screams are also mixed with syllabary in English and Chinese. According to information from Kusanagi Izumo, an advisor to "Homura", it appears that they are from the Southeast Asian criminal mafia organization, who began to enter and leave the Shizume-cho area earlier this year. He hears the main business is buying and selling drugs and firearms, but the guns they have now are probably part of the product.

On the other hand, it is the young people who have settled in the street who are attacking the stopped truck instead. It is a group of not a few minors. They don't have any kind of firearms, and at most they have things like knives and iron pipes in their empty fists. It is not a force that can compete with the armed mafia. However, they were removing one after another the gangsters who had spread through the alleys, and finally pushed them into the warehouse.

It is their "power" that fills the overwhelming difference in strength between them.

It was a flame-shaped "power" that they were manipulating as members. It is nothing else, the "power" that Suoh gave them.

Possessor of the ability to induce peculiar phenomena.

Among them, including Suoh, there are only seven people in the world, Ex-A individuals, popularly called "King's Power", and some were also simply called "King". The street gang, "Homura", is the "clan" with whom he shared his power.

The red clan "Homura" led by the third king, the Red King, Suoh Mikoto.

They are such a talented group of people that they are hunting down the armed mafia.

"Mikoto-san!"

One of the members was quick to notice that Suoh appeared in the parking lot. Rikio Kamamoto, a veteran of the team.

"Sorry! We wanted to finish it by the time you got there, Mikoto-san, but they even took out machine guns."

Under the word, he roared a series of different shots. It is not a gun. As Kamamoto reported, it is probably an assault machine gun. He sees the members of "Homura" running towards the shadow of the truck.

"Damn it! Don't be afraid! I'll make a wall with flames and push it!"

"Damn. Roll back, not forward!"

The screams of the members can be heard from the shot.

Despite being exposed to intense firefights, the members of "Homura" did not appear to be weakened.

On the contrary, the sense of exhilaration to exercise "power" as they wish makes them feel joyous and even joyful.

Everyone was full of energy and their eyes were shining.

Fierce fighting spirit and madness. The heat that had been transmitted to the alley was now filling the area.

Suoh frowned slightly.

The blood is burning. The enthusiasm emanating from the entire body seems to be provoking Suoh. The "power" in Suoh wants to be released like his friends.

At that moment, a flash of light ran through the warehouse window, making a sharp, sparkling noise on the asphalt. Suoh's feet. A series of landings snaked like a seam, the surface of the street was crushed and debris bounced. Kamamoto hurriedly stepped on, "Oh?"

"Damn it! Mikoto-san, please be careful!"

With Kamamoto yelling in a hurry, Suoh looked around the warehouse. The distance is about 200 meters. It's a good range. Suoh waved the cigarette. The back of his body tenses. The impulse of "power" approaches the throat.

Suoh's "power" is flame.

He fundamentally hates slavery and wants freedom.

"Mikoto-san!"

When Kamamoto urged him on, the bullets flew again. A bullet that jumps overhead lands on the asphalt behind. Kamamoto jumped in front of Suoh, yelling "Watch out!" Trying to protect the "King" with his own shield.

But,

"Kamamoto. Go away."

Suoh said that carelessly, made a noise and stepped forward. Kamamoto looked back to say something, but when he saw Suoh, he swallowed the words. Then, as if pushed by Suoh's magnetic field, he naturally stepped aside.

Take two or three steps forward. He spits out the cigarette and stomps on it. Immediately afterwards, the bullets grab the side again. A smile came to him. The blood was playing.

All good.

A bright red aura escaped from Suoh Mikoto's entire body.

The aura that colors Suoh turns into a burning pillar of fire, expelling the darkness around him. Heat waves struck the surroundings suspiciously, and the humid night air instantly burned away. But what is most striking, is his powerful presence. And it was a feeling of intimidation like a fire giant, that you can't think of the same person.

The men who were fighting enthusiastically caught their breath and looked back.

Then after a second, they screamed louder than before. However, some are terrifying and others scream with joy.

The perimeter aura spreads explosively and occupies the entire area.

Probability deviation field of the king, is the "area" of the king called "Sanctuary". Furthermore, the released "force" shoots up into the sky, is concentrated at a certain point, and is compressed to form a "shape".

A huge "sword" that appears high in the sky with the release of the "enormous power of royal authority". The sword-shaped energy body, which is a crystal of "power" and symbolizes real power, was called the "Sword of Damocles" following the history of ancient Greece due to the "possibility" of the phenomenon.

The members of “Homura” took a breath.

And,

"No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!"

They raise their voices like crazy and thrust their fist skyward.

The King's "Sword of Damocles" is the source and symbol of the "power" of the clan members and the flag of "Homura." They are proud of him and his friends. The screams of fiercely violent, yet transparently pure youths screamed to the point of conquering the summer night.

But…

Is not sufficient.

Still not enough. That "power" is a feeling and a passion. The red waves that sprout from the limbs have yet to come out. More and more. He wants to release that "power" that boils like magma. Everywhere, forever, to the limit. No, he wants to go beyond the limits and run until he breaks.

It is an unreasonable desire to be released.

He's hungry, the flames jump.

Sparks fly.

Suoh's flame gained even more power. It gained even more momentum. The voltage of "Homura" increases proportionally. The hot air has now turned into a soggy heat vortex, making all tangible things deeply compressed and squishy. Kamamoto, who was on the other side, stumbled unbearably and stuck to the bottom. The moment Suoh's entire body was integrated with the flame, a small crack ran in the "Sword of Damocles" high above. It's okay. It's even better if he tear everything down, screw everything up, and that's it.

But…

"...King."

There was a light voice that did not suit the occasion.

Suoh suddenly tightens the loose rope. The "power" that was about to be unleashed went crazy at once.

Suoh suppresses it with all his might, but the trapped "power" immediately increases the internal pressure on Suoh.

The Sword of Damocles is flawed, and the blade cracks as if to complain.

"Please forgive me. It's hot and dry."

The unreliable voice, however, was uncontrollable in reflective passion that crept through the turbulence of "power" and reached inside Suoh. A lead line of sight that melted when heated entered the lead vocal. The murderous impulse of violence seems to have a mass of its own. However, when the young man smiled, he showed his shoulders to Suoh's eyes.

Tatara Totsuka, executive of "Homura".

He is a kind and neutral young man who seems to have nothing to do with violence. However, Totsuka smiles in front of the "King" on the verge of an outburst without hesitation.

Suoh stood up with all skeletal muscles contracted for a while.

Then he relaxed his whole body a bit.

He carefully lower the internal pressure that was the limit.

Look around.

The space around the area is already filled with exploding "power". The clan member, who receives the king, can exercise more "power" than usual in the "Sanctuary". If it had been a fifty percent battle situation up until now, it would have been impossible for the enemy to win.

He does not need more.

"......"

The pillar of fire that swallowed Suoh slowly melted into the night air. Enemies and allies. While looking at everyone in the place, Suoh took out the cigarette, lit it, slowly inhaled it into his lungs, and exhaled.

"...Burn them."

Short command.

The voice that answered was brave and fierce, and seemed to clearly indicate the whereabouts of victory or defeat. Kamamoto leaps to his feet and runs to the front line. Not just him. The members of "Homura" jump out of the shadow of the truck and run to the warehouse.

However, Suoh didn't even look at them. Various urges that are still hard, he presses his lips and desperately gets over it.

"King?"

Totsuka asks to think about it. Suoh barely replied, "Oh.", While looking away from Totsuka.

"I have watered it."

It seems like he couldn't help but say it after knowing everything. Suoh's harsh expression was revealed in the apology that appears to be Totsuka. At the same time, the mind regains balance.

"Leave the rest to them."

"Okay. Still, there is no room for me."

The clansmen who witnessed the majesty of the "King" attacked the warehouse immediately. The battle will end soon. Suoh slowly releases smoke.

"Sorry."

"Ah?"

"No, you see. At the moment, I had a strange feeling."

"What are you saying?"

Suoh's strength gradually unraveled as Totsuka laughed. Suoh was somewhat conscious and smiled bitterly.

He is still irritated. The anger lasted a little longer, it was supposed to settle deep down on Suoh while the total amount was reduced a bit. As usual. Suoh has been screaming and screaming for years with intangible irritation eroding him. Even with the fire of the "King", there are things that cannot be burned.

"Damn…"

Why did he become king? The self-question that has been repeated many times since that day three years ago, returns to his heart.

But that was the moment.

There was no sign. It's not like I feel anything.

However, Suoh suddenly raised his head and looked in the direction of the night sky as he was guided by his intuition.

It is the eastern sky.

"What?"

And Totsuka lags slightly behind and turns his neck in the same direction as Suoh.

Suoh's red "Sword of Damocles" floats high above them.

And, maybe it's his imagination. Beyond the night sky they gazed at, he felt blue light flickering.

Like a shooting star or something.

"What?"

"......"

Suoh silently does not respond to Totsuka's words. However, he kept staring up at the sky.

The fight continues.

However, Suoh couldn't look away for some reason.

++++++++++

"Blue King?"

"Yes. The position has been vacant for a long time, but it seems that it has finally been filled."

Totsuka listens from the counter, Kusanagi nodded while cleaning a glass tumbler.

"HOMRA" is a retro-style bar in a corner of Shizume-cho. In addition to the seasoned counter, there are vintage couch and tables in the large wooden shop. The rows of colored bottles lined up on the rear bar are truly authentic.

However, contrary to cocktail making, "HOMRA" is the real territory of the red clan recognized by "Accord 120," and even the home of Suoh Mikoto, where the executives of the "Homura" street gang gather. The owner and master is Kusanagi Izumo. He is still twenty-four years old, but he took over the shop originally run by his uncle.

"Ah... but the information is still fast."

"I don't care about that, it's about me."

"Well, because 'King' is 'King'."

"Can you use it a little more carefully? For now, keep a low profile."

"There is. It's like a Hagi snake."

It's not a bad wind, but Totsuka sticks out his tongue. Kusanagi shrugged his shoulders.

Kusanagi is a high rank. He dyes his hair and often wears light-colored sunglasses. He seems like a smart gamer, but he's actually quite a difficult person. He was the oldest of the main members of "Homura", and probably because of that, he had a bad feeling of familiarity.

On the other hand, Totsuka is a young man of innocent childishness. The neat face is also feminine, and the piercing in the left ear looks good. Although he is an executive in a street gang, the impression that he is violent is probably of a distant kind.

Suoh, Kusanagi and Totsuka became their first clansmen (Clansman) when Suoh, who had been associated with them before Suoh was chosen "King", woke up as "King". Three years ago. When Suoh was nineteen.

"The former 'Blue King' died when the crater was created, right?"

"It's the so-called Kagutsu incident. The previous 'Red King' lost control and changed the terrain of Japan. The previous 'Blue King' must have died at that time."

"Well then that was over a decade ago."

Totsuka leaned freely over the counter and looked away.

Even though it happened over a decade ago, they both recall the confusion of the Kagutsu incident. After all, a huge crater suddenly appeared in the southern part of Kanto, causing hundreds of thousands of victims. There are various opinions about the truth of the case, but only the "King" and his vassals know the truth.

"Hey, that new 'King'..."

Without telling anyone, Totsuka muttered. Kusanagi did not reply and continued to polish the glass in silence. Then after a while, he takes out a cigarette to take a break.

1:00 PM. Even the members of "Homura", who are usually immersed in the place, rarely appear during this time. In "HOMRA", which is noisy until midnight, he can spend more quietly and slowly during the day like now.

The summer sun shines vertically from the skylight and does not enter the store much. The windows were filled with brilliant white light, vividly separating the scorching exterior from the coolness inside.

"Eh? Hey, Kusanagi-san. Now that the new "Blue King" has appeared, will "Scepter 4" be revived?"

"I don't know, but it is likely."

Kusanagi replied casually, pursing his lips and spitting smoke. However, his appearance was mysterious and it can be seen that he foresaw the troubles of the near future.

"Scepter 4".

Its official name is "Family Registration Division of the Tokyo Legal Affairs Office, Fourth Branch". As the name implies, it is an office of a government agency, and its business is "special foreign family record management, etc.".

However, the real situation is "a security organization for people with powers."

Possessors of the ability to induce peculiar phenomena. The so-called skill holders were extremely troublesome and dangerous in modern society. Although it has strong power, it is difficult to distinguish it, and even if it is legally repressed, there is almost no way to impose some kind of regulation in reality. It is like a human being with a firearm that can be used anytime, anywhere, without control, without any qualification or legal responsibility.

However, many of the talented people acquire their unique abilities by receiving "power" from the "King" or under the direction of the "King". As a result, most of them belong to a clan with the "King" at the top, and as a result, they are under some control. Of course, the nature of the clan changes according to the intentions of each "King", but there is the "Agreement 120" between the kings, to curb social unrest and conflicts between clans, and the unorthodox behavior of the members is also suppressed of the clan.

However, it is not that there are no examples of clan members using "power" to commit criminal acts.

Furthermore, there are a number of talented people who spontaneously gain "power" regardless of the "King". The ones called "Strains". Since they do not belong to the clan, they do not care about the "common sense of the world of talented people", such as the implicit understanding of "power", much less the "Agreement 120", or often they do not know it in the first place.

And it is "Scepter 4" that manages and supervises those Strains and represses crimes committed by talented people.

However, this is the story when the "Blue King" was alive. This is because "Scepter 4" has the appearance of "a blue clan led by the Blue King", in addition to its face as a security organization for people with powers. After all, in the face of a criminal with "power", the most effective way to control and capture is to have someone with the same "power" take charge. And the "Blue King" who controls the "power" of the "Red King" that is rooted in "destruction" reveals his "power" based on "order". The "Blue King" and his clan were best suited as security officers for the talented.

However, the previous "Blue King" died in Kagutsu's case 11 years ago.

After that, "Scepter 4" continued to carry out its duties in the absence of the "King", but last year, it suspended its activities following a certain incident. The job was transferred to another clan, resulting in a mid-way teardown. By the way, "Homura" is not little involved in a certain incident.

"Well, there were several things about us and "Scepter 4", but objectively speaking, that was a necessary organization. In fact, after "Scepter 4" disbanded, the problems related to the Strains increased."

"But thanks to that, we are making money."

"That's right. Recently, I feel like there are various adverse effects."

"Really?"

"You feel it?"

When Kusanagi asked and looked back, it seems that Totsuka somehow understands what Kusanagi is saying, with a bitter face that seems difficult to answer.

He hasn't put up a poster in a big way, but "Homura" has been doing something of a problem solver specializing in collecting Strains for some time.

This is the beginning of Suoh's work if the cause is corrected. For a time after graduating from high school, Suoh was imitating a gorilla in the underworld of Shizume-cho. In particular, after waking up as "King", various organizations have used him as a goalkeeper who can deal with problems related to the Strains. And such a demand has not changed even now, with the rise of "Homura" and becoming a major force in the underworld. On the contrary, it tended to increase even more than before. Today, Suoh himself is less likely to come out, but if requested, the "Homura" team will take the place.

Originally, there are many Strains in Shizume-cho. Every corner of the main street is maintained and a huge view of the street is installed, but if you enter from the back of the block, you can see the type of business that the law touches, mainly in the old town. Not only gangsters, but also foreign mafias have taken root.

For that reason, countless people of various positions come and go, and it was a land where it was easy to find a place for strangers like Strain. Naturally, there are many problems related to Strains.

"Of course, after all, it is a group of bad people. It is natural that it is rude..."

Since "Homura" was established as a street gang, there is a strong awareness that "Shizume-cho is their own rope". If a Strain goes crazy in Shizume-cho, they will take the initiative to go on a business trip and do their best to calm the noise. There was an "achievement" for better or for worse, and there was no resistance to responding to such "requests."

The resolution of problems related to Strains is a non-negligible source of income for "Homura".

However,

"Recently, in a bad way, I am recovering."

Then Kusanagi complained at the top.

It is no exaggeration to say that "Homura" dominates Shizume-cho, when it comes to talented people.

In the context of the absolute existence of the "Red King" Suoh Mikoto, rule by power is widespread. And his dominance extends to gangsters and the mafia through jobs like problem solving.

The situation in Shizume-cho was not necessarily bad for many varieties.

Strains that do not have a clan community are often used by the underworld.

In that sense, the criminal organizations rarely use the Strains in Shizume-cho city, where "Homura's" eyes are shining.

Strains who have struggled elsewhere can live in peace to some extent as long as they follow the minimal rules and conventions in Shizume-cho. In fact, hearing about "Homura's" reputation, the number of Strains migrating from other areas was increasing.

On the other hand, "Homura" in Shizume-cho city is inevitably becoming a kind of "authority". And it is that in "Homura" the number of people who realize this in a bad way and increase their attitude is increasing.

"Well, there are some parts that are not screaming to a certain extent, right? We are who we are, we are doing the best we can since the disbandment of “Scepter 4”. However, I don't know if he will become a Tengu. But if I don't understand because he has a bad head and boss, is he of poor quality?"

Such a trend was more pronounced for the newcomers, especially those who were away from Suoh, rather than the old ones who had contributed to "Homura" for a long time. The main members of "Homura" who hang out in "HOMRA" are the same as before. However, on the contrary, those who have less contact with Suoh and the main members, are swept away by the bloated image of "Homura", and they proclaim themselves members of "Homura". There was a strong tendency to show it off.

What's worse, the people around them believe they admit that attitude; rather, it is a tendency to respond positively.

"A recent story, the problem with the previous mob, I heard rumors like the trigger was in "Homura"."

"Eh? If that's true, it's really bad."

"I don't have any confirmation at the moment. When I thought about looking for him, the 'Blue King' came out and I wasn't sure what to do... Well, I don't want to eat villains anymore. Whether it's the minimum amount of morality or not, the reason is that he is an intelligent person."

After muttering to himself, Kusanagi tilted his mouth and lamented, "It's a bit bittersweet lately." "That's a complaint too." Totsuka pointed out cheerfully, and finally spoke a few words.

"But... it's true. Many of the faces that appear in "HOMRA" have strong habits, but they are basically good. Sometimes I forget if "Homura" is the original group."

"There is no 'good boy' in the collapse of the chicken coop, when you say something like someone else's business. Isn't it your responsibility to educate the newcomers?"

"Oh, again, Saruhiko."

"Well, when it comes to this big family, it's hard to keep an eye on the bottom."

That said, Kusanagi sighed with a bitter smile.

When a royal authority gives "power" to a specific person and welcomes him to the clan as a new member of the clan, there is a transit ritual called "Installation". The specific method differs according to the "King", and in Suoh's case, it was "flame". Only those who collect and accept the flame created by Suoh can awaken that "power" and become members of the clan. If it fails, they'll get a huge burn, and if they don't, it's a life-threatening rough installation.

For that reason, not many people want to join the Red Clan, but unlike other kings, Suoh does not deny them the opportunity. Anyone can take up the challenge as long as they are prepared to put their life in danger.

As a result, in proportion to "Homura's" rapid increase in power, the number of daredevils who yearned for the Red Clan increased, and many people appeared who passed through the facility.

Among the members of "Homura" who are basically gory, Totsuka is exceptionally kind and caring. For that reason, it is his role to take care of newcomers, but these days it is difficult to say that he is doing well in flattery.

"After all, I'm weak in 'power'. The guys who came for that kind of thing would see me down."

"When I say something that is not right. I mean, there is a newcomer that you can lose, right? Rather, it is the reason why the slightly demeaning attitude seems sweet. Sometimes it is very easy."

"Even if you say so, it is general."

Totsuka laughed at Kusanagi, who was in his line of sight.

In fact, despite being the oldest member of the clan like Kusanagi, Totsuka's "powers" are extremely weak, he is excellent in precision and dexterity to wield that "power", but he is generally not suitable for combat. He is a nonexistent type.

Still, the true value of Totsuka Tatara lies in the fact that he has earned friendship and trust without hesitation among tough people, but as he himself put it, he was drawn to "power" and "authority". He was often disrespected by those who participated in "Homura". Even if Totsuka is strangely friendly and affectionate, on the other hand, those who aren't interested have a dry side and easily distance themselves.

"Anyway, Kusanagi-san, do you mean if “Scepter 4” is revived, will the people below be tighter than now?"

"I don't think it's okay if I do it, but... I don't think it works."

"Will we crash somewhere?"

"I don't know yet. It depends on what kind of person the new 'Blue King' is. For the moment, the correct answer is to wait and see."

"It's hard to keep up."

"I don't mean it like other people's affairs."

Kusanagi, who was smoking, involuntarily smiled at Totsuka who was still somewhat grumpy.

"By the way, what about the 'Blue King'?"

"Like I said, 'do the right thing'. I hope you take a little more care of yourself so I don't have to worry about it."

"That's it... Kusanagi-san, you're begging for something that doesn't exist."

"What do you say, do you dare say it to my face?"

"Because our "King" is not interested in the struggle for power with other kings. Oh, so why not appear before the Blue Clan at a social gathering to avoid useless conflicts? Are all members of "Homura" required to participate? This season, there is the Obon dance contest."

“Well, it may unexpectedly be the 'Homura' golden rule. If you have a habit of being associated with Bon Dance, you can stretch your spine. Of many ways."

"I will definitely hold my stomach and laugh."

"It is a spectacle to see how are the people who came with strange expectations to "Homura". By the way, let's serve sake. A direct drink from the third king. They will not be afraid to refuse, I will have many stocks of "HOMRA"."

The area where the two oldest executives handle this seriously is probably Suoh's "King" boundary. However, if Suoh was a perfect king, be it Kusanagi or Totsuka, they shouldn't have thought that he would go to the trouble.

But...

When the rulers of Shizume-cho told a ridiculous story, small, light footsteps echoed within the bar. From the stairs leading to the bar, it was a girl who came down.

"Oh, Anna. You were awake."

She is still young, at most an elementary school girl. Before Totsuka who was smiling, her face was thin, but with a serious gesture, she made a small click.

Like a handmade doll, she is a delicate and well-dressed girl in a ruffled dress. The skin is extremely white and the long hair is also white. Still, the round eyes had a deep red color. Red and black based gothic and lolita clothing looks better than ever.

Kushina Anna. She is a member of "Homura", who, although she looks like this, is a member of the Red Clan.

She is also one of the important members, unlike the newcomers from the fund.

"Anna. What about Mikoto?"

"He is still sleeping."

"Oh. Good condition."

"I feel tired. So..."

"I understand. It was not our intention to wake you up."

Kusanagi gently said to Anna, who said a few words and moved her shoulders. Anna smiled at Kusanagi's light mouth, trying to respond to Kusanagi's concern.

Anna is a member of the Red Clan, but was previously a Strain. She is also a very special person with excellent sensitivity.

However, being a good talent does not necessarily mean that she is lucky for a girl like Anna. Fortunately, she grew up blessed with the adults around her, but for a time she was still closed to her surroundings. She is still not good at speaking and does not have many words.

As Anna reached over and sat down on the counter, Totsuka looked at Kusanagi with a hint of gaze. Kusanagi immediately understood and laughed, "Of course, I know."

"Well, Anna was the first to notice the 'Blue King', right? So I hurriedly looked for him."

"What? That was Anna, it was a credit."

Looking at Anna while Totsuka was impressed, the girl turned slightly. She seems to be shy.

In fact, it was Anna who became the key person in "a certain incident" that led to the dissolution of "Scepter 4". She has a slight connection to "Scepter 4" and the "Blue King." And it's never a funny memory.

However, the incident was the one that caused Anna to join the Red Clan, and she has since moved with Suoh. Thanks to that, Suoh, Kusanagi, Totsuka, and other members love her, and her personality, which tended to crash, is improving.

While the incident itself is not a funny memory, it is an important milestone in her life and, above all, a past event that is now over. Even though a new "Blue King" had been born, she no longer seemed upset.

Even though she is a girl, Anna is growing every day because she is a child.

"Yes, Anna. Are you interested in King's Obon dance?"

"Idiot. Don't even tell Anna there is such thing."

"No, I think Anna looks good in a yukata, right?"

“So even if you don't bother planning an Obon dance, if you take her to some summer festival, that's fine. Anna, would you like to go out on a cool afternoon?"

Kusanagi proposes to go out to Anna while giving Totsuka a hint that he was wrong.

However, the girl's reaction was more serious than the tension of the two adults.

"Mikoto... he was screaming at dawn."

She said it painfully.

Kusanagi and Totsuka involuntarily clutched their mouths and exchanged piercing glances.

Anna has few words, but she pays more attention to the words she says and puts her heart into them. It resonates in the heart of the listener.

"No, I don't think I have a nightmare every day."

"Even in the last conflict with the mob, there seemed to be a lot of outrage."

"Oh, I told you."

"We can understand King's suffering, but we cannot realize it."

Suffering from having too much power. In reality, few people can experience such a thing. Suoh's suffering is the "King's" suffering. There can be no true understanding unless you are in the same position.

"Oh, wow."

Kusanagi laughs. Totsuka and Anna turned to Kusanagi.

"They look like each other."

Just as the hardships of his vassals are known only to his vassals, so is the loneliness of the "King".

So the only way to treat yourself is to respect and be considerate of the other.

“If he's a new king or clan, what happens? Well, at least I don't have to worry about monthly sales, and that's enough."

Kusanagi said that, and started setting up the bar again. Totsuka and Anna looked at each other and smiled out of nowhere.

#k #k project #k R:B #Novel #homura #Izumo Kusanagi #yata misaki #suoh mikoto #totsuka tatara #Saruhiko Fushimi #kushina anna #kamamoto rikyo

41 notes · View notes

snaileer · 4 years

Text

Chips & Salsa Chp 6

Okay, Lance had definitely not thought through the whole ‘angrily stomp out of the room and leave Keith stunned behind him’ thing. Mostly because now Keith was in his room and Lance had nowhere else to be at five in the morning. It was still a good 2 hours until anyone was supposed to be awake.

What that really meant was everybody still had 2 hours of productive free time until they’d agreed Allura was allowed to beckon for them. God, he wished he hadn’t argued for the extra hours of ‘beauty sleep’ now. Even if sleep was all he wanted to do.

Still, maybe the time would give him an opportunity to shake off the lingering heaviness of his nightmare.

Lance fiddled with the bracelet on his arm. Pidge really was their very own genius extraordinaire. It was measured perfectly to his wrist. Which was saying something, because he had itsy-bitsy crazy thin wrists. From his Mom’s side.

His siblings had teased him relentlessly for having ‘dainty’ wrists. Ha! Lance smiled to himself at the thought. If only his family could see him now; he would absolutely destroy them in arm-wrestling.

He might even be able to beat Marco, but his brother had-

The ringing surged, “Ah!” Lance stumbled to the side with his head in his hands. His elbow hit the wall and he yanked back immediately, “OooooH! Mmmm- ! Mother trucker!”

His arm tingled with pins-and-needles as he lost balance and fell to the floor.

“Lance!?”

Shiro?

Shiro.

He ran down the hall towards Lance, “Lance! What’s wrong?”

“I hit-” Lance hissed in pain again, “I hit my funny bone.” He cradled his left arm against his chest.

Shiro froze in surprise, until he started to shake. Within seconds Shiro stopped trying to contain his snickering and was laughing outright.

“Shiro!” Lance said scandalized, “Stop laughing at me! The funny-bone hurts!”

Shiro was laughing so hard he was wheezing, “I’m sorry,” he could barely get a word out, “It’s just so funny!”

Lance dropped his head against the ground with a thump. “It’s still tingling!” He whined into his chest, sounding for all the world like a petulant child. Which only made Shiro laugh harder.

-x-

Now, Coran had seen some things in his days. He’d seen stars and galaxies and war and peace, applez and orranges, kings and queens. The rise of civilizations. The fall of planets. The lives in between them.

Still, it was quite a sight to come upon the blue and black paladins in the hallway of his castle. One rolling on the ground in pain and the other laughing uncontrollably at his friend.

“Paladins?”

“Coran!” Shiro managed to talk as he tried to catch his breath.

“What is the meaning of this, Number one?”

“Lance, hit his-” he wheezed again, “funny bone,” A giant smile still plastered across his face.

Lance shouted out next to him, “There’s nothing funny about the funny bone Shiro!”

“There is for me!”

“Would you like some help, Number Three?” Coran asked as he walked in front of Lance on the floor.

“Dios mio, yes! Please!” Lance took Coran’s hand to pull himself back up, still rubbing his elbow as he glared at Shiro.

Coran shook his head, “I don't think I will ever understand you humans, you’re a very… unique breed.”

“Don't even try with this one. The funny bone is the most useless, pointless thing the human body ever came up with,” Lance stated the fact like it was his greatest enemy.

“I’ll have to disagree with you there, Lance, because that was exactly what I needed this morning,” Shiro smiled smugly.

“You shouldn't even be awake this early!”

“Oh, but I am. And I will never forget this. Oo-!” Shiro hummed with a discovery, “But thank you for reminding me! I was hoping to catch up with you to go over the Blue Lion.”

Lance’s playful smile dropped.

“You have Olympic talents for dampening a mood, you know that right?”

“I have been told that once or twice.” Shiro smirked, “And yet we’ve still got to do it.” He latched his hand onto the back of Lance’s jacket.

Lance’s mind worked overtime to try and figure a way out. He couldn’t confront Blue, not after everything that happened. Everything that he’d done.

“A unique breed indeed,” Coran murmured as he watched Shiro continue to half-drag Lance towards the hangers.

“See you at breakfast, Coran!” Shiro waved at him before turning a corner.

“Hey! There’s an option: breakfast! Y’know… eat, talk... not mess with the Blue Lion.” Lance tried to smile.

Shiro infused his voice with false cheer, “Sure, sounds like a great idea! If you’re willing to actually talk now,” Lance cringed, “Didn’t think so.”

Shiro stopped them in front of the hangar doors, his shoulders sagging a bit, “Listen, Lance, I get the whole not wanting to share with us thing. I don't like talking about my experiences either.” He sighed, “I know it would probably help to talk about it, we both know that, but we also know how hard that is.” Shiro made pointed eye contact with Lance, “So if we’re not going to work on the emotional, then we’ve got to work on the logical. And that means the Blue Lion.”

“Or…” Lance mock shrugged with his hands, “how ‘bout we don't and say we did?”

Shiro raised a judgemental eyebrow.

“Fine, fine,” Lance raised his arms in surrender, “Didn’t think that one would work anyways,” he grumbled, “All I wanted was some sleep.”

Stepping up to the hanger doors felt more ominous than usual. But when they opened, Blue was just as amazing as he remembered.

And her barrier just as strong.

Shiro followed him into the room as he slowly made it to the particle shield.

“Hey, Baby Blue,” he paused to look up at her eyes, “Miss me?”

Lance rested a hand on the barrier, trying to feel her in his mind. She used to be a constant presence. Always there to reassure him, to push him further, to help him be better.

Now?

Now, as he searched for her connection, Lance could feel the walls between them.

Now, as he desperately hoped for even a sliver of her peace, there was nothing.

Now, as his fears were silently confirmed, Lance knew he’d been cut-off from her.

“Sorry, Shiro, it’s just not happening,” He pulled his hand back from the shield quicker than necessary. He hurried to get out of the hanger and alone.

“It’s okay, Lance, I was planning on a bonding session today anyways,” Shiro smiled gently and followed after him.

Lance spun to face him, “Why?! Because you knew this wouldn’t work?!”

Shiro was started back a bit, “No, I just-”

“Don’t worry! I knew it wouldn’t work, too! Of course it wouldn’t work! Why in the wide wide world of Webkinz would Blue ever want me back?! She wouldn’t! I don't even know why any of you want me back! You have Allura now! She’s literally a magical alien princess! How can I compare to that?!”

“We want you back because you're our friend, Lance. You’re the only one comparing yourself to Allura,” Shiro tried to comfort him, tried to fill in those insecurities and worries. He’d seen them in Lance before, known they were there, but they’d grown since he’d been... taken. “We told you: Blue barely let Allura fly her, you are the Blue paladin. Not anybody else.”

“Well somebody forgot to tell her that! Did you know I can feel the walls between us? I can literally feel everything that’s stopping me from connecting to her. To my lion. Can you even imagine that? I wish I could help you, but maybe I’m not even meant to be a paladin anymore.”

“No, that’s not true, Lance. I know it’s not. Please, just come to the training today. We’ll try this again, and-”

“Don't you get it, Shiro?! It’s not going to work! We can keep trying, but it’ll never work because she shut me out! She cut me off!” Lance’s voice saddened, “Completely.”

“We can’t be sure of-”

“Fine! I’ll be there. But I’m not promising anything,” Lance turned his back to Shiro, “So don't get your hopes up.” He left the hangar quickly, pushing himself farther and farther away from the Blue Lion. Further into the abandoned darkness.

Lance curled his arms around himself in the empty hallways, but kept walking. A weight settled in his chest. Accumulating from the nightmare, the fight and, Blue. He was so tired.

The density of the heartache slowed him to a stop in front of the observatory, doors opening automatically.

Oh, how he missed the stars.

He’d been in space for probably more than a year now and he’d spent three months without seeing the stars. Without a window once the entire time.

The tablet-pad in the wall told him he still had an hour ‘till he was needed for anything. The massive window ledges called to him. They were hard, but wide enough and long enough for him to lay on them.

Lance stared out at the space beyond the glass. The infinite universe of stars and planets and cultures.

And silence. Without muddling noise or cheering crowds or hushed whispers or dying fear.

Just calm, clear silence.

A roar thundered through his mind, and he shot upwards, his eyes snapping open. When had he dozed off?

Fading growls echoed in his ears. Quickly being replaced by the ringing.

He just wanted a moment. Just to relax. To relax without shrill screams lingering in the background. He just wanted to escape it. Escape what it pushed him towards. Escape what it made him do.

Not now. Not now. Not now.

Not yet.

Lance worked to calm himself down. It’d been worse than this before and it’d be worse again. He just had to move around it.

Lance climbed off the window ledge and made his way to the wall tablet. He had to get to breakfast with the team.

God, Keith would be there.

God, Shiro would be there. He has the actual worst planning ever. Two fights in as many hours with people he literally can’t avoid.

“Ugh, breakfast is gonna be so awkward,” Lance groaned and then forced himself towards the dining room.

He was correct. Breakfast was insanely awkward. Both Keith and Shiro were there and he pointedly avoided making eye contact with them.

By staring at his goo.

Shiro cleared his throat, “So, today’s gonna be a training day. Just to get back in the rhythm.”

Ah, green goo.

“Of working together.”

Very….

“As a team.”

Green.

“Including a bonding session.”

Much goo. Very wow.

“Lance, unless you’ve discovered the secrets to Voltron in your goo, please listen to me.”

Lance lifted his eyes in a deadpan look, “I am listening and the goo says 42. I said I’d do it so let’s do it.” His chair scraped against the floor when he stood up. He wished it’d been louder.

“I really don't think mind-melding is something I want to do right after eating.” Hunk protested as he collected bowls to drop off in the kitchen.

“We’re not going swimming Hunk, you’ll be fine,” Pidge patted his shoulder in reassurance.

Once everyone had left the kitchen, they headed straight for the training room. Lance ahead of them, leaving tension in his wake. He just wanted this whole mess of a day to be over already.

Coran handed them the headbands in silence and they all sat together again. The same pattern as their first day as Voltron. But everything else was different, so very different.

“This is going to be a bit of a change from last time, since we’re trying to focus on just Lance. I’ve adjusted the headbands to compensate.”

“Let’s just get this over with.” Lance put his headband on, watching the others do the same.

“Relax and breath.”

Lance gritted his teeth against the ringing, he could handle it for now. For this.

“Let your minds connect. The flow between each of you is crucial to your bond as Voltron.”

Hunk reached out first, feeling the link snap into place. Except one. Something blocked him from Lance’s mind.

He tapped it, pressing curiously and shifting around the edges. Searching for the roots and the boundaries of it.

Pidge was second, she hit the wall harder than Hunk had, then followed his lead. Working to discover the problem. To learn.

“Lance, why aren’t you letting us in? You have to let us in for this to work at all.” Pidge snapped at him.

“Yes, I know that. But I can’t feel you guys,” Lance grumbled back.

“Then what’s wrong? Why can't we get in?” Keith argued as he banged against the mental block, trying to force it away.

“I don't know. I can’t feel any of you.”

“Just keep trying, I know we can do this,” Shiro pushed against the barrier between them, the team following suit.

“I can feel you guys now. Just a little.” Lance’s words sounded tight.

“It’s working, just a bit farther,” Hunk urged. They pressed harder.

“I- I don't know guys,” Lance paused for a second, his team didn't, “I think I have a headache-” Lance gasped.

A pulse shot through the wall, slamming into the paladins, forcing them out of the bond,

“GET. OUT. OF. MY. MIND!!”

It smashed against them, knocking them back forcefully.

Hunk wheezed from his place on the floor,

“owww.”

Everyone else groaned in agreement.

“Gaaah!” Lance shouted from his seat, pressing his palms to his temples in pain, “This doesn't make any- what was- but it didn't-”

“Hey, Lance, Lance, come on. What’s happening?” Shiro moved forward quickly on one knee, grabbing hold of his shoulders and trying to get him to look up. “Lance, what was that?”

“I don't know. I don't know what happened. But the moment you guys got pushed back, I remembered something.” Lance shook his head roughly.

“What?” Shiro let go of him and rocked back in surprise.

“You never said you had memory blanks.” Pidge pointed out at him from propped up on her elbows.

“I didn't- I don’t.” Lance tried to guarantee that as fact for himself, “But for a moment, when something lashed out at you, a memory came through. But it can't be mine. It can’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven’t forgotten anything! I hate it; but I remember everything!” Lance jerked out his hands, “I counted. I measured. I numbered every. single. day. At most I was off by a week, maybe two. But this isn't- It doesn't fit.”

“Wait, Lance, how long did you count?” This time it was Pidge that approached him. Getting as close as she could with her hologram wrist gauntlet.

“Ninety-one,” Lance yelled, “I was there for ninety-one days and I remember every goddamn one of them!”

“Wait but 91 days is only-” Hunk started in the background, but Pidge quickly interrupted.

“Ninety-one days only adds up to about three months.”

“And?”

“And you were missing for six months. Not three.” Pidge flipped around her hologram to show the numbers ticking past days on the calendar, finally stopping at 182.

Six Months.

Next Chapter: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/622144446399758336/chips-salsa-chp-7

First Chapter: https://snaileer.tumblr.com/post/613092735756402688/chips-and-salsa-chp-1

64 notes · View notes

cockasinthebird · 4 years

Text

Trigger/Content warning: Clear mentions and remarks of Neil being a real fucking abusive asshole.

And Steve being supportive and kind to Billy as he struggles

There was no roar of the engine, no deafening music blasting out the windows, or dramatic entrance this morning.

Billy stomps through the halls of Hawkins High, collar popped and shoulders raised, face hard and mean, daring anyone to fucking say a word. He pushes and shoves through the gawking crowd, their eyes blown wide in shock at the rough buzz cut that his dad had forced upon him this morning.

Neil caught Billy enjoying the view in his mirror again, and decided enough was enough, that he wasn't gonna have some faggot strutting around in his house. And grabbed the trimmer.

It's rough and uneven, but not a single long curl left on his head.

And when Steve sees it he's... terrified and worried. Eyes just as big as everyone else, mouth gaping, but his heart stops beating. He's convinced that Billy's going to beat him up; a way to blow off steam and relieve some of his justified anger in an unwarranted way. They were just starting to get along, finally comfortable enough to smile and laugh together, when his asshole dad had to go and ruin Billy's life more.

There's so much unbelievable pain in those ocean blues, life hanging on by a string there.

But Billy averts his gaze. He visibly turns his head away as he passes by Steve standing at his locker.

And that hurts just as well. A pang of the heart, like a needle piercing through with red hot heat. He's been beat up, broken up with, hunted by demo-dogs, yet this pain is by far the most intolerable one that Steve has had to suffer through so far.

But Steve's a fool in love. So he follows along the cleared path where students are quick to murmur and gossip as soon as Billy is out of sight.

Turns a corner just to see guys sprinting out from the bathrooms.

And he finds Billy alone, trembling, knuckles turned white where he balls up his fists, shoulders still high and tense and he-

It sounds more like a bestial roar of madness, than that of a man brimming with rage, as he bares his teeth as wide as he can at his own reflection in the greasy mirror.

Then there's blood, as his fist collides with the glass and shatters it.

“Billy!” Steve's shocked to his very core.

“Go away...” There's no resemblance of aggravation in Billy's voice.

He turns his back to Steve, head hanging low and bleeding hand pulled to his chest. Every step he takes seems so uncertain and weak, as he slowly retreats further into the bathroom.

“Billy, please,” Steve speaks with the softness of angels, and he takes far longer steps.

“Steve,” his voice cracks and splinters. “I'm asking you to leave me alone.”

“I'm sorry Billy, but I cannot do that. You're hurt.”

Billy puts a hand to the tiles in the corner furthest away, fingertips digging in to the crevice between white. Tries to stay standing all he can, but his quivering knees give out, and he lands with a thud on the ground, hunched over.

“Fuck, Billy-” Steve runs to him and slides onto the floor.

He has absolutely no clue as for what to do, but he has never wanted to hug and hold another person more than now. And when he hears the first sob bumble out, his palm touches down on Billy's back that stutters with every breath.

And unsurprisingly, Billy flinches away from that touch.

Steve feels like a huge asshole immediately for having touched Billy without even considering... “I'm- I'm sorry Billy, I'm so so sorry, is there anything I can do? Anything at all?” He feels a knot strangle him, his heart so uncertain of everything.

“Don't...” Billy snivels, “Don't go...”

Every time Steve thinks his heart can't break any more for him, another piece gets chipped away. “I'm not leaving you. Ever, you hear me, Hargrove?” he tries for a smile, not that Billy can see the kind gesture. “I'll stay here with you for as long as you need me.”

It takes less than a second for him to finish talking, before Billy whips around and throws himself at Steve, knocking him on his back, Billy on top; crying and pressing his face deep into Steve's chest, soaking up his expensive polo with tears and blood.

And there's nothing else in the world to do, but for Steve to hold him. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling, careful as to not accidentally touching his... his head. Fights to just stay quiet, say nothing and let Billy empty his lungs and tears all over his chest.

Even when the school bell rings, they stay like this. For several arduous minutes, they stay like this. And when Billy's lamenting turns to quiet weeping, they stay like this.

Steve never stopped holding him, continuously rubbing gentle circles into the back of the denim jacket, never pausing.

Billy takes a deep breath. “I hate my dad.”

“That's very understandable,” Steve responds quietly.

“I'm so... unhappy.”

“I know.”

“I can't go home, not after this...” Tears well up so easily now, and they spill onto the striped fabric again.

“Then don't.”

Billy huffs a dejected laugh. “And where would I go? I don't have anyone but my shithead dad.” His hand closes around the polo.

“That's not true – you can come stay with me. I've got plenty of space.” Steve doesn't even need to think about that for a second.

And although he can't see it, he feels a smile form where Billy's pressed against his chest.

“Yeah? In that big haunted mansion of yours?” Billy feels... pathetic, utterly worthless, completely devoid of value. But lying here on the floor with Steve, he could maybe feel... hopeful.

Steve smiles too. “Yeah, and don't worry, you'll have your own room, and we've got three bathrooms and a giant kitchen. There's space for you.”

There's space for me, the answer to a thought Billy hadn't had the courage to ask: Will I be in the way?

Silence falls on them after that, as Billy thinks thoroughly about what to say next, and Steve waits patiently for him to be ready, finger still brushing his back.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? You don't have to be here...” And Billy's ready to burst into tears again as cruel thoughts bubble up from the tar that is his anxiety.

“Because I love you,” Steve says as if it's a well known fact to the world, as if he's said it before, as if he means it.

Billy has never turned his head this quickly before, angles it so that his chin rests on a pec, as he looks up at Steve.

And Steve looks right back.

“And when you love someone, you're willing to do absolutely anything for them.”

Being speechless doesn't come easy to one Billy Hargrove, but there's a first time for everything. Wide eyes, blue and wet, stares in disbelief, eyebrows curved like as if he has a question that he can't find words for.

“You still love me without my hair?” his voice hoarse and barely even a shell of his usual bravado.

“Your looks have nothing to do with the way I feel about you.” Steve smiles affectionately and lovingly.

Another first. Someone willing to love Billy when his charming looks have been tarnished, and his badass reputation destroyed, no doubt.

But maybe times are changing. Maybe there won't be a need for that crude wall to be up anymore.

“Come on,” Steve whispers, “let's get you to the nurses office with that hand, and then we can... do whatever you want.”

They stand up together, and Steve gently wipes Billy's face clean of tears and sorrow.

“Sorry about your shirt...” Billy mumbles and brings his not-bloody hand to touch at the stained fabric.

“It's okay.” Steve takes the hand into his own and kisses the back of it. “I'll just buy a new one, it doesn't matter.”

And he doesn't let go of that hand ever again.

66 notes · View notes

pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer · 3 years

Text

Super Fighting Roll (2-3)

(Roll tracks down the last remaining Energy Element, but soon discovers that things are far from over.)

Roll spun around, buster armed, as the transport completed. The only things that greeted her were another transporter unit and an endless expanse of dusty red plains.

“Mars? I guess I should just be glad they didn’t go even farther out. Dr. Light, can you read me?”

Static came in reply. Giving a short hum, Roll set out, Rush on her heels, keeping her eyes open for any sign of movement.

“Never thought we’d get to see another planet up-close, huh boy?”

Rush barked.

“Hehe...though, a lot of things have taken an unexpected turn lately.”

She thought back to what Break Man had said. At first she had simply wanted to dismiss it as a misunderstanding—being weaponized had been her choice, and it was bizarre that he thought otherwise. The more she thought on it, however, she became curious as to why he was so sure Dr. Light would do such a thing on his own.

The way he talked about Dr. Light…it almost made it sound like he knows him personally. And now that I think about it, that would explain why Dr. Light wasn’t expecting Break Man to just talk things through. But, if they do have some kind of history, why wouldn’t Dr. Light have said so? No, more importantly…I’m positive Break Man is a Robot Master. I was sure that Tempo, Rock, and I were the first, so when could he have met Dr. Light without us knowing? Unless…

Glancing back, Roll suddenly realized that Rush had stopped following her. She turned to look at the dog, standing a few paces away with ears perked up, and prepared to call him. Before she could, he pounced on something.

“What’ve you got, boy?”

Rush pulled a small mechanical snake from the dirt. Roll tilted her head as she examined it, and then froze, spotting the dirt behind Rush shifting. She fired a shot, blasting out another robot snake.

“What are these things?”

“Oh, you’re no fun…”

Whirling, Roll spotted a figure emerging from the surrounding dust cloud: a Robot Master with mostly green armor, his helmet styled to look like a large snake with its jaws around his head and tail hanging down his back. Keeping her eyes peeled for more snakes, Roll said, “I just want the Energy Element.”

“So impatient. May I at least introduce myself?”

“I’m going to guess ‘Snake Man’?”

The robot frowned. “No fun at all...regardless. If you are here, then I take it our comrades left on the moon have met their end?”

Roll didn’t answer.

“Ah, what a shame. If you’re capable of defeating them, then the rest of us certainly don’t stand a chance.” He began to walk back into the dust cloud. “Yes, I think it’d be best to just hand the Element over. Come, this way…”

Roll turned to Rush. The dog looked up from gnawing on the snake he had caught, giving a low-pitched whine.

“Yeah, I’m not convinced either...but, we need that Element.”

The two of them proceeded with extreme caution, scanning the ground for signs of any more snakes while also keeping Snake Man’s silhouette in sight. After a few minutes of walking, the dust began to thicken; wanting to keep the other robot in sight, Roll ran forward a few steps, and at that moment a pinpoint of light appeared. Roll dove aside, the incoming laser beam grazing her shoulder. Large metal spikes then began to rain down, so she stayed low, carefully crawling forward in search of her enemies.

I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

A gust of wind finally thinned the dust cloud. Roll found herself staring up at a small, two-story structure made of metal stained red by the planet’s dust, Snake Man standing in the doorway grinning at her. “What ever is the matter, Roll? The Element is right in here. Come over and take it.”

He ducked aside to avoid a Hard Knuckle. From the upper floor, Needle Man fired a hail of spikes; Roll slid behind a boulder just in time, spotting another laser a second later. “They’ve really got the advantage here...I’ll have to be smart about this.”

She peeked out and took aim at Needle Man. He ducked back inside immediately. A battalion of snakes were set in motion before she could switch targets, so she instead began clearing them out. A figure appeared behind Snake Man then, shooting yet another laser, though it was aimed away from Roll for some reason. She refocused on destroying the snakes. The laser hit another rock, bouncing off of it at a new angle, and went straight for Roll, knocking her out of her hiding spot.

“Uh-oh!”

Needle Man was back. Roll had no time to dodge, opting to blast the incoming spike out of the sky instead. Several of the snakes were upon her now, biting into her armor all at once--leaping to her feet, she shook them off with Top Spin, ducked back behind cover, and prepared some new tactics. She instructed Rush to shift the dirt on one side of the rock, hopefully making her enemies think she was about to emerge from there, and then darted in the opposite direction towards another adequately-sized boulder. As she passed, she shot Snake Man with Spark Shock to prevent him from adding to the army of snakes. Once safe, she unloaded a series of Magnet Missiles, the projectiles curving around her cover in search of proper targets.

“Admirable effort, Roll!” Snake Man called. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”

Snakes began to crawl over the rock. Roll leapt back and fired a Hard Knuckle, shattering the stone and disrupting the movement of the machines. She tried to head back to her first hiding spot, but Needle Man was too quick: a barrage of spikes kept Roll in place, allowing the snakes to regroup and resume their march. A bark caught Roll’s attention. Rush, in his jet form, rocketed towards her; she grabbed the edge of the platform and was carried out of harm’s way, quickly pulling herself up to get better footing.

“Thanks, boy,” Roll said.

They turned hard to avoid a laser. Circling around, Roll got a better idea of the landscape, seeing that the building was protected from the rear and sides by natural barriers.

“That still leaves one other way!”

After verifying that they were out of their enemies’ sight, Rush flew as low as he could without the roar of his jets giving them away, and Roll jumped onto the nearby rock wall. She steadily climbed down and onto the roof of the building, then looked back to Rush and held up ten fingers. Roll gripped the hatch on the roof, took a deep breath, and then ripped it off and jumped inside. The inner walls looked identical to the outer walls, and the room was empty save for a few rusty crates and a very surprised Needle Man.

“Wha--where’d you come from?!” he shouted, hurrying to lift his cannon.

Roll threw a Shadow Blade before he could fire, knocking his arm aside. She followed with a Spark Shock to stun Needle Man, and then blasted him into the wall with a Magnet Missile. Snake Man leapt up to the window as quickly as he could, only to be met by a Hard Knuckle that sent him falling back to the ground.

“Gemini Man, get up here!” Needle Man shouted.

Roll ran at him, hoping to not give him enough space to use his cannon. Suddenly, Needle Man bent forward, and the spikes atop his head extended out, stopping Roll short. As she stumbled back, she saw one of the lasers from before shoot out of the stairwell: it ricocheted off the ceiling, floor, and walls, fencing her in. However, Needle Man did not attack.

“Jerk...at least get an idea of what you’re aiming at!”

Ten seconds had passed. Rush came charging in through the opening in the roof, getting hit by the unexpected beam. Roll stunned Needle Man again as she made sure he was alright. Before she could follow up, snakes emerged from the stairwell and advanced towards her.

“Darn it!” Needle Man stomped his foot and took aim with both cannons. “Prepare to look like swiss cheese!”

He fired wildly, leaving no opening for Roll to counterattack. The projectiles zipped past her, most of them burying themselves in the oncoming wall of snakes--they were easily pinned to the floor, and those in the rear were slowed by the need to crawl over their companions. His assault only lessened when another Gemini Laser entered the room. Between the three incoming attacks, Roll was forced closer and closer to Needle Man, soon coming into range of his headbutt attack; as he moved to use it, Roll ducked and slid forward, colliding with Needle Man’s ankle and tripping him into the Gemini Laser. The impact sent Needle Man rolling into the wall, where he sat dazed for a moment.

“Ugh...just great…”

Roll pointed her buster at him. “Just give up. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Needle Man stared at her. “...Huh. You really aren’t what the boss prepared us for.”

“...What?”

“Here we were expecting a terrifyingly powerful Robot Master ready to kill at a moment’s notice. You’re tough for sure, but it doesn’t really seem like your heart’s in it.”

Roll clenched her teeth. “Of course not! Why would I want to kill any of you? I’m only fighting because you’re forcing me to!” She turned to blast some of the snakes before immediately putting her eyes back on Needle Man.

“Heh heh...guess someone’ll have to let the boss know he’s wrong. I would love to see that.”

“I already tried, but Break Man won’t talk to me.”

Needle Man shook his head. “I don’t mean him. I mean--”

Another Gemini Laser shot into the room, reflecting off the wall once before striking Needle Man directly in the chest. In his weakened state, that was more than enough to pierce his armor, searing a hole clean through his internal components. Roll jumped back in shock. A few seconds later, a scowl clouded her face; she grabbed Needle Man just long enough to copy his weapon, and then shot spikes through the floor in a circle. When she stomped on the center of the circle, the floor broke away, giving her a path to leap directly down to the lower level.

“Ah, there she is,” Snake Man said. On either side of him stood Gemini Man and his duplicate, though which was which was anyone’s guess. “You’re quite determined to swoop down on us from above, aren’t you? Are we so beneath you?”

Ignoring him, Roll stared at one of the Gemini Men. “Why would you do that to Needle Man?”

Both Gemini shrugged in response, one saying, “Who knows?”

Roll opened fire. “Is it really so easy for you to kill someone? What’s wrong with you?!”

Her foes scattered. Roll tracked one of the Gemini while the other and Snake Man flanked her. Rush dropped on top of Snake Man just as he prepared to attack, and the closer Gemini charged at Roll, prompting her to turn her assault his way. The spikes passed right through the projection, and the real Gemini Man used the opportunity to set a Gemini Laser bouncing around the room.

“What a peculiar thing to say!” he remarked as Roll focused on tracking the laser. “Of course it’s easy. As if it could be difficult for a technical marvel such as myself!”

Rush scurried back out of the laser’s path. Bounding back, Snake Man began calling up his army; Roll turned her fire upon them, impaling the troops before they could advance more than a few inches, and managed to land a direct hit on Snake Man’s shoulder. He cried out, clutching the wound as he slumped against the wall. Switching her focus again, Roll ducked just beneath the Gemini Laser and equipped Magnet Missile, hoping the homing projectile would be able to track Gemini Man. The laser shot down her first attempt before she could find out.

“I can’t believe anyone would program robots to be so cruel,” Roll said.

“Are you saying all we know is wrong?” Snake Man asked, baring his fangs in a pained smirk. “It isn’t our fault we are who we were programmed to be. There’s no need to act all high and mighty.”

Gemini Man and his doppelganger charged before Roll could respond. She leapt back, the laser striking her in the side and knocking her flat. Snake Man capitalized on the situation with a small squadron of snakes, with the tiny machines charging straight through one of the Gemini. Switching to Shadow Blade, Roll attacked the other, stopping his charge, before tumbling out of the snakes’ way. Rush pounced on the real Gemini Man to keep him pinned, while Roll dealt with the snakes and turned to their master.

Raising his arms, Snake Man said, “My, this is unfortunate…”

“Where’s the Energy Element?”

“Right over there.” He gestured slowly to a crate in the corner. “By all means, help yourself.”

Keeping her eyes on Snake Man and her buster ready, Roll made her way over to the indicated crate. She grabbed the lid, paused, and lifted it, spotting the Element at the bottom on a bed of something she guessed was packing material. The instant she reached for it, Snake Man darted in Rush’s direction. Roll was ready: she shot him with the Needle Cannon, the spike piercing straight through his chest, and with a drawn out cry Snake Man fell to the floor, his sparking body soon growing still. This still distracted Rush, however, and Gemini Man was able to set another laser loose into the room.

“Get back boy!” Roll shouted as she ran forward, sliding just under the beam’s path.

Rush complied, and Gemini Man sprang to his feet. He leapt back, shimmered, and then jumped to one side, his doppelganger jumping in the opposite direction. Roll hit Snake Man’s body as she passed, armor turning green and white. Three Search Snakes leapt from her buster, zipping along the ground too low for the Gemini Laser to intercept them, all converging upon the real Gemini Man and bringing him down as they sank their fangs into his ankle. Roll launched a Magnet Missile to cancel out the Gemini Laser, and then glared at Gemini Man.

“You...you just got lucky!” Gemini Man said. “If it weren’t for the others holding me back, there’s no way you could have outperformed me!”

Roll shook her head. “What’s the point of this? Why--”

She stopped short as Gemini Man raised his hand to fire a laser. Quickly, she fired a Hard Knuckle in return; the beam reflected off the rocket-propelled fist back into Gemini Man, finishing him off before Roll’s attack even landed. With a harsh sigh, Roll knelt and copied his data, and then transferred the Element to Rush’s storage compartment.

“Let’s hurry home, boy,” she said. “I’m worried about Dr. Light and the others.”

Rush transformed into his jet mode and carried her in the direction of the transporter. Roll tapped her fingers against her leg, thoughts lingering on what Needle Man had said.

There’s someone other than Break Man behind all this. I just hope it’s not who I think it is...

***

Light typed away at his console, eyes repeatedly flicking to the comm window in the corner to see if the connection had reestablished. Wily set a hand on his shoulder, saying, “Thomas, I can handle this if you need some time. I’ll let you know right away when Roll comes back into range.”

“Thank you Albert,” Light said, “but I think it’s best I stay busy.”

“If you insist. The Energy Element is installed, so we’re ready to test as soon as you are.”

“I’m finished here as well. Running test in 3...2...1…”

Light hit one final key and held his breath. Behind him, Gamma roared to life, light shining from the eyes on its half-completed skull. Wily grinned. “Excellent! Let me take a look at those readings!”

Not far away, Rock applauded alongside the construction crew, though he slowed to a halt when he spotted Elec Man in the crowd. He hesitated, but then approached, asking, “Elec Man? Are you okay?”

The other robot shuffled away slightly. “Fine.”

“Okay...it’s just, you’ve been really quiet since the other Energy Elements were stolen. Are you worried?”

He shifted his shoulders. “It’s nothing, Rock.”

“...I don’t want to butt in, but...if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk, I’d be happy to help. I mean, I’m your big brother after all! Technically.”

Elec Man finally turned to look at him, expression blank at first. Rock saw him crack a small smile as he turned away again. Giving a sigh, Elec Man quietly said, “I guess I’m worrying you, aren’t I?” He paused. “I’d never quite realized how powerful my abilities were. I had some idea, of course, but now I have a much deeper understanding. After seeing just what I was capable of under Wily’s reprogramming...I suppose I’m afraid. If I were to lose control, even briefly, I could end up destroying someone else, maybe beyond all repair this time. When I destroyed that Robot Master’s projection, I thought I had done just that. That’s why I’m still shaken.”

“Oh. I see…”

Elec Man shook his head. “There isn’t really anything to be done about it. I’ll just have to be as careful as I can.”

Rock waited a moment. “...Have you talked about this with Roll?”

“Roll? No, why?”

“It isn’t exactly the same, but...well, I shouldn’t say too much. But, she’s been struggling a little after having to fight all of you, so she might have some advice that could help you out.”

Elec Man looked up, considering this silently.

Back at his console, Light nodded at the data he was seeing, and prepared to shut Gamma back down. Something caught his eye, stopping him, but before he could look into the matter, the sound of the lift descending reached his ears. He turned, expecting to see LaLinde or Tempo coming to join them. His heart stopped when he laid eyes on Break Man.

“...Blues…?”

Wily noticed him as well. Throwing his hands up, he shouted, “Agh! Break Man! Oh no, this is terrible!”

The worker robots scattered in a panic. As Break Man stepped off the lift, Guts Man came forward to meet him, saying, “Well well well! Looks like you finally decided to stop hiding behind your minions and come face us head-on like a real robot! Good--I was hoping I’d get the chance to deal with you personally!”

Break Man ignored him completely, gaze fixed solely upon Dr. Light. Trembling, the scientist muttered, “Blues...it’s really you...you’re still alive…”

“Hey, tough guy!” Guts Man said. “I’m talking to you.”

Break Man finally faced him.

“Yeah, y--”

Suddenly, Break Man’s armor changed color, becoming purple and white. An instant later, he was behind Guts Man, slowly walking towards Gamma.

“Wh--hey! Get back here!”

Guts Man lunged after Break Man, the other robot’s armor now turning green and white. Four large leaves whipped around Break Man, deflecting Guts Man’s attack before flying out at him, slicing through the small gaps in his armor. Break Man then lifted his buster and activated its beam, knocking Guts Man flat on his back.

“Hold, villain!” Fire Man declared as he bounded forward. “Whatever purpose brought you here, I will not allow you to succeed!”

Break Man’s armor turned white and gray. He and Fire Man both attacked at the same time, Fire Man’s flaming shots soaring high while Break Man generated several bubbles which travelled along the ground. Break Man pulled his shield around just in time, but Fire Man was taken by surprise, the water-based attack shocking him still. Guts Man pushed himself to his feet, but now Break Man’s armor was brown and yellow--he generated a circular saw blade in each hand, and then hurled them straight into the chests of both his opponents, dropping them instantly. After pausing to glare at Light once again, Break Man continued towards Gamma. Activating his laser, he swept it through the scaffolding, setting the gargantuan robot free with a thunderous rain of rubble.

“Is he trying to take Gamma?” Rock said. “We have to stop him!”

Elec Man held him back, saying, “How exactly are you going to do that? You’ll only get yourself killed!”

“But…”

Break Man took a few steps towards the two doctors. Wily cowered, but Light just kept staring at him, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

“I thought you were lost forever,” Light said. “Blues...you’re still alive...I’m so glad…”

At this, Break Man froze. Wily said, “Thomas, it’s Break Man! He’s attacking! What are we going to do?”

A smile came to Light’s face. “Blues...I’m so happy you’re alright…”

Wily looked up at him. With a sigh, he said, “Hrm...hardly the reaction I was hoping for.” Now perfectly calm, Wily came forward. “Nonetheless, excellent work, Break Man! Not that I expected anything less.”

Break Man nodded. Rock said, “Wait...what? Didn’t you say you were the one working for Break Man?”

“Neh heh heh, foolish little robot. That was nothing but a genius ruse to gain Light’s trust! I’m the true mastermind here! Nehahahahaha!”

Finally emerging from his trance, Light furrowed his brow as he turned to face Wily. “What? Albert, is--”

He whirled in a fury. “That’s Wily! You will refer to me with respect, Light--never again with familiarity! It’s been agonizing playing along all this time! I thought my skin would crawl right off my bones!” Wily grunted, but then his mouth curled into a smirk. “It was worth it, however. Using your designs, your resources, your labor, I was able to construct this unstoppable war machine in record time! My brilliant plan was a success! And once I unleash Gamma upon the world, not even your precious little lab assistant will be able to stop me! If she even survived her trip to Mars, that is! Nehahahaha!”

“I’m just fine, Wily!”

He winced as Roll’s garbled voice sprang from Light’s terminal. “Rrgh, of course. I knew I should’ve sent the other batch…”

“Dr. Light, are you okay?” Roll asked. “I made it back to the moon and I’m closing in on the transport coordinates! I’ll be there in just a minute!”

“I think not! I took the liberty of encrypting Light’s transporter program--it’ll take him quite a while to get things working again!”

“What’s wrong with you, Wily?! We trusted you!”

Wily waved his hand, turning his back on the console. “Bah, I don’t have to indulge this prattle! All I need to know before I leave is whether or not you retrieved those Energy Elements for me, Roll.”

“There’s no way I’m turning them over to you!”

Wily’s smirk spread into a grin. “Yes, I thought you might say that. Break Man!”

Break Man was suddenly right in front of Rock. He grabbed the robot by the arm and yanked him in Wily’s direction, but then paused. Turning his head, he saw Elec Man standing next to him, two electrified fingers pointed straight at him.

“...Let Rock go,” Elec Man said. “I won’t ask again.”

Break Man let go. Then he was behind Elec Man, stabbing a curved metal boomerang into his back. Rock cried out as Elec Man dropped to his knees. Fighting to stay online, Elec Man fired a bolt of electricity at his foe, only to have it blocked by another set of leaves. Break Man’s armor then turned orange and white. When he aimed his buster at Elec Man, it fired a projectile with a blinking orb on one end and a sharp point on the other, which buried itself in Elec Man’s back. Break Man then kicked him aside, grabbed Rock once again, and dragged him over towards Wily.

“No...I won’t…!” Elec Man struggled to lift his arm, preparing one more attack. The item stuck to his back then detonated.

“Elec Man!” Rock shouted. “No! Let go of me, you…!”

“What’s happening?” Roll asked. “What are you doing?”

“I was thinking a trade might appeal to your sense of fairness,” Wily said. “You give me the Energy Elements, and I’ll return your brother Rock to you!”

“Roll, don’t worry about me!” Rock said. Break Man clamped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else.

“Oh, you really should. If I don’t get my hands on those Elements, I’ll reduce him to scrap metal!”

“Wily,” Roll said, “you--”

“Wily!”

The entire room went dead silent at Light’s sudden shout. He leveled a stern gaze at Wily--the look that may not have been harsh in its own right, but out of place as it was on Light’s kind face, the jarring, eerie feeling it generated multiplied its weight exponentially.

“I won’t forgive you if you harm my children.”

“Ah, so that’s what it takes to get you mad,” Wily said. “How interesting! Don’t you think, Break Man?”

The red Robot Master said nothing, only tightening his grip on Rock.

“Blues,” Light said, “I--”

“Save it, Light!” Wily interrupted. “You have my demands. I’ll be waiting for my Elements!”

Wily pulled a small device from his pocket. At the press of a button, he, Break Man, Rock, and Gamma all disappeared into thin air. Light’s fierce expression vanished as well, replaced by a look of absolute terror.

#Mega Man #Roll #fanfiction #Super Fighting Roll #Roll Reversal

4 notes · View notes

imthepunchlord · 4 years

Text

Colors of Grey: Revenge

If ever asked what was his passion, Felix can happily answer that he was a magician and into magic tricks.

Not only was it true, it got people to leave him alone quickly. No one was interested in magic. It was an over dramatic splendor, media have portrayed it as a joke, one less desirable mastered to get attention.

But fools like those thought too small.

The work of a magician was the work of a mastermind. They were true illusionists, they knew how to keep attention elsewhere, how to play people. And that was what sort of magician Felix was. One who played people well, knew just what to do to get what he wanted. Everyone was a game, an instrument to play; it just took a little time to figure them out.

And some were far, far easier than others.

Chloe Bourgeois for example, the easiest to play, Felix didn’t even need to show himself to play her. Seated so high up her own high horse, he could even stand in plain sight and be overlooked. Chloe saw what she wanted to see. She heard what she wanted to hear. And she did whatever she wanted to do. And for Felix to get what he wanted, it was a simple, easy matter to not be what Chloe wanted to see. And dressed in a simple white Jagged Stone shirt, jeans, and a black cap covering his blond hair, he’d be one of the least interesting people in her peripheral vision.

His initial plan was to simply right in and slip inside, right under her nose. And she had, unwittingly, made this task far easier by hosting this party. He slipped with the crowd, moving like he belonged, sending sparing glances her way from where stood on top of the foyer, her attention elsewhere.

He allowed a small smile.

She as none the wiser.

No one looked his way when he went to the elevator, no one stopped him as he headed to her room. With his cap tugged down with eye holes for him to look through, he started his search around her dresser.

The Graham de Vanilly family had a long, long history as jewelers. Much of the prized accessories known today were of their craft. And not all of their craft had been so readily shared. The Bourgeois family, who historically stripped Paris away from a knight known as Darkblade, was a family with a long history of crookedness and tricks.

This family had been charmed by their craft, and it can’t be said in full certainty that they obtained some of their work honestly.

The one specific piece Felix wanted to find was Blue against Nightwings, a bracelet made by his ancestor, famously known as Bluebird of Happiness. She had many upon many lovely pieces but that had been one of the most prized possessions of the Graham de Vanilly creations. They had held onto jealously but a convenient meeting with the Bourgeois to make a deal a few centuries ago and well, it had disappeared upon them leaving.

They had wealth and political power, and distance.

For a long time, there was a struggle to prove their theft; till Felix could be here to simply reclaim it. And knowing Chloe, she won’t realize its gone till it was too late… well, if she ever did even realize it was gone. The Bourgeois family had deep corruption to them, but they were a crafty family that knew how to play people well.

As of today, well, Felix can say that it's an old line that should come to an end, unable to match their ancestors’ prowess.

But that was a Bourgeois problem, currently, his problem was trying to find the bracelet. Where would Chloe keep it? It wasn’t in her jewelry box with every single boring diamond accessory she had. It wasn’t on her jewelry stand, gleaming in the light, awaiting to be admired. Where…

Felix paused at the vanity, by chance, he lifted up the lid, looked down, and made a face. There it was. Tossed into her vanity drawer like a piece of junk.

“Nice to know one of our greatest creations is here collecting dust,” he muttered dryly, picking it up and wiping the dust off it. It gleamed in under his touch, the sapphires bright and full of life. He took a moment to admire Bluebird’s work, smiling slightly at the luminous craft, back with its old owner—

The door busted open, startling Felix and he quickly slipped the bracelet into his pocket, looking up to see the surprised blue gaze of the local hero, Ladybug, staring right at him with a clear gape. By those sharp eyes, Felix knew immediately that she knew he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Who are you?”

He grimaced. The Parisian heroes had seemed to be a fanciful tale when they had reached London, the classic day to day villains to face, the silly costumed heroes that really loved animals, and a magical power that restored all damage done. It seemed too outrageous to Felix personally. But, arriving in Paris, getting a chance to see this as an actuality and not some glorified tale; it left this magician wary.

This was actual magic. This was strange and different something no one seemed to know about. And curious and uncertain, Felix observed and noted and learned what he could.

While he didn’t fully know how their powers worked, he knew enough to know that Ladybug was not the one he wanted to face right now. She was the dangerous one in the duo. She was a schemer like him, and while he wasn’t sure if it was her power or not, she knew how to work things into her favor, and thus far, she always won.

But Felix was a schemer as well. He was a magician, a master of illusion and tricks, and all magicians knew the art of misdirection.

With the bracelet safely tucked away, Felix let his hands come up and quickly moved up the mask to show off a sheepish smile.

“Woah, sorry, um, I wanted to give Chloe a little scare,” he said awkwardly, hoping she’d by the fib.

Her brow furrowed, her lips moving to murmur a question, one Felix barely heard but could’ve sworn he heard, “Adrien?”

Before he can really consider his cousin potentially knowing a hero, there was a stomp of coming feet, heavy and fast, and it jolted Ladybug to life. She startled him once more when she dove forward, suddenly in his space, close enough for him to see patterns in her eyes. A gloved hand was on his wrist and he was pulled to the side, just in time to avoid the chrome baton that came flying at them, ramming itself right into the vanity mirror and breaking it.

“That’s bad luck,” Ladybug chanted, gently pushing Felix away as Chat prowled into the room, glowing green eyes locked onto her. On his leg was a green eyed bear, controlling the cat hero?

Ladybug rushed out onto the balcony and Chat followed, not even noticing Felix.

Chloe came after them, shrieked, “My vanity!” and she followed them with a roar, Felix staying still the whole time, watching as she raced past. As the trio duked it out on the balcony, he eased his way out, leaving the chaos behind him happily, chaos he didn’t need to be apart of. He had what mattered, after all. Felix spared a fast look around before taking out the bracelet, smiling down at it.

It was time to take this home where it belonged.

#miraculous ladybug #Felinette #Colors of Grey

201 notes · View notes

sukitaro · 3 years

Text

The Dawn of Midnight

It was approximately late afternoon to early evening on the northwestern end of Shishu, the sun’s warmth bathing the land in a soft heat. To the pleasure of those in the area, however, gentle winds carried the cool breeze of ocean water from the nearby coastline to keep the temperature and humidity comfortable even. The sky had gradually transitioned from it’s soft blue to a blue layered with the reddened clouds to mark the coming of sundown, the sun slowly sinking towards the ocean horizon.

A gorgeous array of cherry blossom trees stood as far as the eye could see, freshly bloomed to mark the arrival of springtime. The coastline winds sent an occasional petal fluttering to the grassy terrain below with blossoms backlit crimson due to the setting sun. There still remained ample room between cherry blossom trees for curious travelers or ijin hoping to experience trees native to Hingan lands.

Between the aforementioned pathways, two large figures trekked their way through the maze of cherry blossom trees, one in front of the other. One figure was an older Raen man, looking to be in his late 50’s and wearing a white haori. The Raen man behind him, appearing to be in his late 20’s, opted for a black happi and hakama pants. In parallel with the setting sun, the man’s eyes were a chilling orange, piercing the darkness with ease as he idly peered about the area. Despite his assumed youth in comparison to the Raen before him, he was a couple ilms taller in height. Slightly above average racially.

The older Raen gave the younger man a passing glance over his shoulder, addressing him in Hingan. <”You are quiet, Zenkoshi-chan. Pray tell your father that which weighs on your mind.”> He urged slowly with a lifted brow.

<”It’s hardly of importance, Kosuke-sama.”> Zenkoshi replied curtly, his spined tail swishing to and fro as he walked. He casted intermittent glances at the older Raen between observations of the general area, falling silent once more. Per custom for them, each Auri addressed the other by first name - family.

Kosuke knitted his brows, letting his stare linger a moment longer before he continued on, leading the pair between trees towards a small clearing in the distance. A little circle of land, cleared of any cherry blossom trees to make way for the circle of empty space. As they neared, Kosuke spoke up. <”Do you know why I’ve taken the pair of us to the island’s north, hmm? Rest assured, there will be no business lost in our absence for an evening. Profits are on the rise as they’ve been for some time and the Wakagashira’s confidence allows my mind to rest. If just for a moment.”> He spoke with a smile, oddly pleasant and soft of voice for a man so ingrained in the Hingan underworld. <”I’m hopeful you’ll learn something of importance here, my son.”>

Zenkoshi refrained from a timely reply, letting a silence sit in the air. <”Mmm. To teach patience and proper humility, perhaps?”> In contrast to his father, the younger man’s voice was removed from all emotion. A cold baritone. <”Wouldn’t be the first time.”>

<”Patience and humility are a must, blood of my blood, this is correct. You will take over the mantle of the Takaneda-gumi when my sun has set beneath the horizons. I wish for you to learn leadership skills in a proper manner. A given courtesy, from father to son.”> Kosuke assured him with a soft look, lingering momentarily before his focus turned back to the pathway.

Zenkoshi was silent.

After another few minutes of walking, the pair of Auri settled upon the circular clearing. Aside from the grassy ground and cherry blossoms surrounding the space, all that was to be noted of in the clearing was an upright stone, carefully flanked by a few others to keep it from toppling over unceremoniously. A few Hingan characters were carved into the stone, reading ‘Here lies my eternal light. May the Kami’s mercy carry you in your afterdays.’ Beneath this, a name in Hingan kanji. ‘Takaneda no Midori.’

Kosuke halted before the apparent makeshift tombstone, Zenkoshi settling in to his left. The older Raen spoke, a new somberness manifesting in his voice. <”I...came to understand that I’ve yet to bring you here, Zenkoshi-chan.”> Ignoring or simply not noticing the subtle eyebrow knit with each usage of that ‘honorific’. <“Your mother was taken from us prematurely, as I’m sure you’re aware of. A raging illness, per caretakers.”>

Zenkoshi stared at the tomestone intently, opting out of eye contact with his father, even as he spoke to him directly. A moment passed before he replied. <“Understood. A tragedy. She will be missed.”> Despite the heavy circumstance, his voice remained as is. Cold.

Kosuke slowly inhaled, turning to his son with tears forming rapidly. <“...I realize that we’ve butted heads often, my son. We are two of the same level of hotheadedness, and from this, we have clashed.”> Trailing off as a tear trailed down a scaled cheek. <“However, you are still my own. You will not be taken from me, and I will struggle until my world falls to darkness to see you fulfill your purpose. Whatever purpose that may be.”> Pausing to breathe in, breath shivering from his released emotion. It was clear he didn’t let that brand of sadness be shown often whatsoever, judging by how quickly he wiped the sadness from his expression after a moment longer. He wordlessly extended his arms out to the younger Raen. The offer of an embrace.

Listening with a rhythmically swishing of his tail, Zenkoshi faltered a moment as his father put forth the offer of a hug. <”...Now and forever, father.”> The younger Raen stepped forward, slipping his arms around the elder Raen with a tight embrace. He was still and without further words.

Kosuke dipped his head, giving an affectionate horn bump to his son as he spoke up. <”Thank you, my blood.”>

Only then, cunningly slipped out of sight in the sleeve of a happi, did Zenkoshi produce a kunai blade poised for the neck.

Without warning, Kosuke forced Zenkoshi back with a sudden gust of Aether-powered wind, launching a shattering haymaker for his son’s temple, unleashing a monstrous yell fueled by frustration and a rush of adrenaline. <”You honorless whelp!”>

Zenkoshi’s head snapped to the side violently as Kosuke’s haymaker crashed against his temple, forcing the younger Raen to stumble to the ground. He grinded his teeth together as a trickle of fresh blood seeped from a new gash, beginning the slow motions of pushing himself to his feet as another fist came flying for his nose. With a sickening crack, he was forced down yet again.

<”I should have known you would pull this nonsense again!”> Kosuke snarled, jamming an accusatory finger down at his son. <”You could never let it go! To think you would attempt over your mother’s grave…”> Throwing his free hand towards the makeshift tombstone, hands trembling with raw fury. <”Your poor self discipline is a smear on our name!”>

<”A smear on the name of a Hingan criminal family?”> Zenkoshi sneered, cupping a hand over his broken nose. Blood oozing from either nostril. <”You are soft. You are unfit to bring terror to the hearts of Kugane. I have been preparing for turns, and you would deny me the right to bring the masses of Kugane to their knees, old man?”> He, once again, went to shove himself to his feet successfully.

Kosuke roared, throwing a knuckled slug for the younger Auri’s ribcage, forcing him to bend over as another few snaps sounded on impact. With his free hand, he spiked an uppercut for the jaw, sending his son sprawling for the ground as his jaw fractured in a split moment. <”That is not for YOU to decide! You speak of collaborations with the filthy Garlean Empire! You would damn us all without a care in the world!”> Standing over his son with heaving breaths. Knuckles splattered lightly with blood.

Coughing wretchedly, Zenkoshi laid on the stained grasses and lifted his torso, only to be forced down with Kosuke’s sudden stomp onto his rib cage - right where he had a pair of now ruined ribs. Producing the mixture between a grunt and a groan of pain, Zenkoshi was spared a moment, clawing his way to his feet with a series of sharp gasps and teeth clenching. He stood now, hunched over with a hand flat on his abdomen. Each produced breath was pain. As such, he forced himself to slow his adrenaline-fueled hyperventilating. He was wordless.

The older Raen stood there, visibly seething at the audacity of his son. He allowed a silence to hang in the air, before speaking in a threatening growl. <”...And so, another attempt to steal the mantle of Oyabun. Wasted. I will not forgive this cowardice in so holy a location.”> Kosuke held up a finger.

Zenkoshi continued to hunch in his stance, head bowed. He said nothing.

Kosuke slowly lowered his finger, eying his son with knitted brows. <”You’ve nothing to say? Nothing at all?”> He inquired, stepping towards the younger Auri once.

Zenkoshi kept still. Then, he began to move. Shoulders bouncing softly in a show of quiet laughter while keeping his eyes clamped shut. His fingers crooked inward, clutching at his fractured rib cage as his lips curled back, revealing his full rows of teeth - elongated fangs included. Blood continued to flow.

<”You think this to be a laughing matter, boy?”> Kosuke exclaimed, taking another step towards his son.

In response, Zenkoshi abruptly halted his quiet laughter on command. Opening his eyes, he slowly panned his stare to his father. As his father’s features froze entirely, Zenkoshi spoke.

<”We are fragile no longer.”>

Then, chaos.

With a panicked scream, Kosuke was launched backwards by an unknown force, nearly splintering a cherry blossom tree from the base on merciless impact. A rogue outcropping ripped through the man’s body dangerously close to his spinal area, producing a ghastly exhaling. He collapsed onto knees and elbows, ripping into the grasses as he attempted to lift himself. Almost immediately, he crumbled back down with a bellow. His spine was not having it after that throw.

Zenkoshi advanced, standing at his full potential. Eyes wide. Teeth gleaming. Tail lashing. Prepared. Calculating.

As Kosuke lifted his head to address his son, the man’s face was drained of all color. His body, previously rippling with a dominant display of hardened confidence, was reduced to a quivering mess. When he spoke, his words escaped as a breathless plea to understand.

<”Midori-chan...what have we brought into this world?”>

Fangs poised to strike, and then, all was dark.

#ffxiv roleplay

1 note · View note

absoluteindulgence · 4 years

Text

All This Love Is Waiting For You

A/N: Salutations guys! This story was inspired by the song "All This Love" by DeBarge. It’s was very soothing to write too. Possibly a part two that takes another turn? Let me know in my ask box or in the replies! Lastly, thank you to the ones that helped me brainstorm! I hope you're enjoying your holiday weekend. Thank you to everyone that's followed and liked my work, I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.

Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Adored by many and notably the center of attention and crowned as the most humble in your grade. Apart from being in class 1-A, you kept spirits high and encouraged everyone and let them know that you appreciate their hard work. Another classmate that shared your enthusiasm was Kirishima. He saw how you were always pumped up and would comment on how manly you were. At first, you thought he was just teasing you and he soon explained what he meant. From there on, you didn’t mind it since it was the highest compliment he could give, becoming friends right after the clarification.

Hanging out with him meant being close to Bakugou, Sero, Denki, and last but not least Mina. The squad always roared with laughter and taunts directly to Bakugou. Shouting his rebuttals almost instinctively as you tried your hand at keeping the peace with Kirishima. Soon proving to be a nine-to-five in itself since they didn’t know how to quit and yet the respect was evident through the group.

You found a home within the bakusquad, pushing the guys out their levels of comfort and Mina bounced about having another girl in the crew. You dedicated time to your friends, your quirk and your studies. Being a hero to you meant showing the better side of those around you. Self-serving your personal character while naturally boosting the companions you made along the way.

Your quirk was best for on-hand combat and a lot of the time, you were paired with Kirishima since you created transparent, reflective shields through your body. Kirishima enjoyed the challenge, not once worried about fighting a girl. He was eager to see your movements and your ability to fight. You didn’t get into a lot of fights when you were younger but your parents always wanted you to be ready. The area your family resided in had lots of petty thieves stealing wallets and although your parents weren’t tried, it didn’t mean it couldn’t happen to you.

Immediately, pushed you into self-defense classes and from there you were the best in class, soaking in the knowledge like a dry sponge. With grand muscle memory, you charged at Kirishima, catching him off guard for a mere second. He braced for the impact as you closed the space between you two. Your agility shone as you used aerobic moves to get the upper hand. You went back and forth dodging each other’s attacks.

You’re impressed that he can match your pace, he might even be a little faster than you. You were overly confident and reached your arms out to pin him down to the floor. The result of your lunge caused Kirishima to dodge with ease, suddenly grabbing your arm and flipping you onto your back. The impact was instantaneous as the wind from your body escaped.

That hurt.

“Sorry, (______). Are you okay?” He was instantly by your side checking on you.

Your eyes were shut as you gave him a weak nod.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

You opened your eyes slowly, with a low, pained grunt, “Yeah.”

His arm was reached out to meet with your hand to level you up to him. As you clutched his palm, he pulled you to your feet. You stretched your arms up to the sky popping the air bubbles out of your joints and bones. The cramped ligaments finally loosened. You haven’t been placed on your back like that since your first lesson of self-defense class. You always guarded but your cockiness got you sidetracked when sparring.

“Are you sure, you should be doing that, (_____)? ” He hesitated to hold your back, “Do you want to see Recovery Girl?”

“No, I’m okay. I just needed to stretch my muscles.” You smiled in his direction. “You’re so strong, Kiri.”

A blush slowly painted his face as he thanked you but insisted on taking you to the nurse’s office. You brushed it off saying there was no need. You took one step forward and slightly stumbled, Kirishima took no time hooking your arm on top of his shoulder as his other hand wrapped around your waist.

“Just so you know, I’m not taking no for an answer now. You’re apart of the team, (_____). Can’t let anything happen to you.” The sincerity in his voice vibrated through your chest as you held onto every word.

You smiled to yourself, breaking down your nonchalance and letting him transport you to Recovery Girl. Respectfully he asked Aizawa and granted Kirishima the green light. As he carried you to the nurse’s office, you wriggled to keep up at his pace. Small groans left your mouth as he stopped walking.

“Hey Kiri, why’d you stop?” You ask holding your side.

He kneels in front of you, “Get on my back.”

“What?”

“Get on my back, (_____)”

“Why?”

“I want to make the trip easier on you.”

Talk about manly.

Without further protest, you climbed onto his back while still in the kneeled position. Your chest rested against his shoulder blades as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He gently rose from the ground, hooking your legs with his muscular arms. You took a deep breath, wincing from the pain you felt from your back area.

“Are you comfortable?” Kirishima turned his head slightly to look at you. You two were close to each other’s faces. His crimson eyes were laced with concern as his brows furrowed awaiting your response.

You nodded and unintentionally nuzzled close to his back. He froze for a mere second feeling the warmth of your body close to his shoulder and started walking again. The halls that he carried you through were empty due to everyone still in their respective classes. The only sound being made was the stomps of Kirishima's shoes as the skids were quiet and controlled.

Not once during the piggyback did he shuffle to keep you up, once you were on his back, his grip was secure. As you entered the nurse's office Kirishima explained what happened and Recovery Girl examines you. She came to the conclusion that you strained your back but nothing rest couldn't fix. She mentioned that it could have been worse had your fall not be broken by the grassy area and gave you a cup of water and a heating pad to soothe the muscle.

After departing from the room, Kirishima apologized profusely.

"You don't have to apologize, Kiri!" You grinned.

"I know you're saying that but I just feel it's the right thing for me to say." He kept his body in bow form.

You walked over to him, pushing his shoulders up to face you, a beaming smile from you, "Look at me, Kiri". Peering into his crimson eyes you say, "I'm fine, okay?"

He stared back at you, his eyes studied your face as you were both too close to one another again and his face heated up. The curve of your smile and the color of your eyes sent shocks throughout his body and twinkles in his own. He finally went back to his normal stance and held the back of his neck. Still blushing he said, “Okay, I believe you.”

You chuckled in unison as you both made your way back to class.

Since then, you spent all your time with Kirishima and the others. Late evenings filled with hilarity and dramatic debates over whether bread is being burned alive every time it's put into a toaster or if ghosts celebrate 4/20 holiday. Your clique filled with a bunch of goofballs.

Over time, it was a given that you spent time playing video games or watching movies that were so bad, they're good. The debates behind the meaning of the movie always lead to a competition of who could kick who's ass in Smash. Kaminari was surprisingly good and won many debates against Bakugou, just because he knew how to work the controller. That night caught everyone by surprise.

Ironically enough, Kirishima had challenged you to a one on one duel and if he won, he would take you on a date. If he lost he would have to let Mineta take you out, you didn’t come up with that ultimatum, Mina did. Needless to say, you let him win. Not only because you didn’t like Mineta but you had also been waiting for him to ask you out. Mina knew you two liked each other, and what made it extremely clear was that every time Sero or Bakugou would beat you in a game, Kirishima would defend your honor.

That first date was nerve-wracking and he could tell that you were nervous because so was he. As he held your hand, he confessed what he wanted to say to you since that day he sparred with you and took you to Recovery Girl. The words of honesty and sweetness spilling out, generating your face to heat up with overwhelmed excitement. Following the date, you made it official.

At school, you were known as the manly power couple. An ode to Kirishima’s values and the way they rubbed off on you. Together, you matched an incomparable amount of honor and code as it showed in your teamwork during sparring matches and work studies. To say the least, you made each other look good.

However, today was unusual. You felt the stress build-up and couldn’t escape it. Your agency worked away from Kirishima’s and left you to deal with petty thefts on the other side of town. Being in the top fifteen of pro heroes, you had the obligation of handling big problems or ones considered to be small by the regular civilians. You always took your heroism seriously but today, your vibe was off. You didn’t display it to your colleagues or victims but you felt it internally.

The day drained the rest of your energy as you held onto what's left of your sanity. You needed to relax soon or you would blow up on the wrong person. You called Kirishima during your lunch break hoping to relieve some tension. Telling him about the old lady that couldn’t hear you as you helped her pick up her groceries. She assumed you were trying to steal them from her and tried to call out to your hero name to catch you, the thief.

Your boyfriend laughed and said you would be fine, “I know who you are and that’s all that matters.”

“Awww, thank you, Red Riot. Hearing that makes me feel somewhat better.” You feigned sarcasm but he saw right through it.

He sighed, “Listen, I know you’re going through it. I hear it in your voice. You’re a strong lady, okay. You can handle anything.”

“I know, I’m just tired.” You felt a tear stream down your cheek. “I want to go home, babe.”

“Oh no baby, are you crying? Do you want me to pick you up right now? You know I will.”

Although you were having a shit day, you didn’t want to make Kirishima end his shift early. Especially if he was working on a time-sensitive case. Being a hero came first and so you tucked your emotions in your back pocket for the time being.

“No babe, just come pick me up after my shift is done, okay?”

For a moment he sighed, he didn’t like to leave you alone when you were feeling down. “Alright (______), as soon as I’m done for the day, I’ll come running.”

Another tear came down but a smile expanded across your face, “Okay, Ei. Thank you so much for cheering me up. Now, I can go on with the rest of my day until I see you.”

“That’s what I’m here for baby, and you know that.” You could feel his grin through the phone, “Listen, they need me back in action. I can’t wait to see you later. ``I love you.”

And with that, the call ended, and your spirits were heightened. You were able to channel back into your confident nature. All it took was the words from your handsome hero. Many moments made you grateful for Eijirou’s positive essence. It would level you at times where you would push yourself into rock bottom. His hand forever stretched out to lift you out of the frump.

Your day went without any more hitches, and even if there were, you didn’t notice. You diffused the pettiest issues with a smile and fought the frivolous robbers with overjoyed laughs. Your colleagues were glad to see you back in your true character. And already knew who was the culprit.

You never told your boyfriend that you loved him because you cared about the meaning of that word. Although, you enjoyed his company you never used the word loosely and only when you meant it. He knew that and didn’t have a problem. He always took the time to remind you how he felt about you. And in your own way, you always showed him.

You can’t say what stopped you from saying so earlier, but you were a visual person. He never forced it out of you even when he thought you were on the verge of saying it. To Kirishima, hearing you say that you trust him or adored him was more than enough.

Fast forward, it’s the end of your shift. It’s chilly outside so you kept yourself tucked away into your warm, cozy office. Kirishima already let you know that he was on his way and told you to stay put. Not even ten minutes later, he sends you a text to come downstairs. Already, changed out of your hero costume, you grab your long, wool burgundy coat. Pulling your arms through the sleeves as the rest of it falls pass your waist, hitting your calves. Walking out your office and to the elevator, you said goodnight to the remaining heroes and staff working on your floor.

As you reached the main lobby, you see your hero waiting. Your struts are swift but elongated as his toothy grin stretches across his face. You almost broke out into a jog until Kirishima meets you halfway with a bear hug. His hold on you is firm and glowing with heat. You inhale his scent, flooding your mind with his pure, earthy infused sweat.

You hold him tightly as he chuckles in your grasp, “Hey, beautiful.” He plants kisses into your neck and moves his way to your cheek, lastly your lips.

The kiss is tender as you hold him tighter to you, your brain’s on repeat saying: I needed this, I needed this, I needed this.

He notices your passion and matches you tenfold, being overly romantic and maneuvering you into a dip as he drives the kiss into a place of voluminous bliss. As he pulls away, you see his self-satisfied grin. He knows he’s taken your breath away and now you were a flustered mess. He raises you out of the dip with a light chuckle while wrapping his burly arms around your tiny waist.

You stare into his eyes, noticing the same brilliant twinkle whenever he was close to you. “Let’s go home, babe.”

Without question, you nod and hold his huge hand interlocking your fingers with his. He tells you there’s a taxi waiting outside for you two. You’re stunned that he didn’t tell you earlier but reassured that they were okay with waiting. The car ride back was soft and comforting as your boyfriend held onto your waist with your head nuzzled in the crook of his neck. You slowly drifted off to sleep.

By the time you were awake, Kirishima already had you on his back unlocking your wooden, contemporary home. The electronic lock beeps with welcoming entry and your boyfriend settled you in on your black leather couch. You felt needy as he broke away from you.

“One moment, my love” His whispers echoes, “I was taking off my coat. Now I’m going to take off yours.”

You laid sleepily on the couch as Kirishima did his best to undress you, you shuffled as he did and he smiled. “Babe, wake up, this isn’t our bed.”

You huffed as you slowly adjusted to him taking off your coat. You stretched as soon as it left your body. You stared at your boyfriend as he reached his hand out to yours. You grabbed it and he lifted you off the couch. Pulling you close to him, placing a beloved kiss on your forehead.

Now, he was leading you to the bedroom you shared, Settling in before he turned to you, ”Shower or bath?”

You knew that apart of you would probably fall back to sleep had it been in the bath. Without hesitation you say shower. No need to worry your pro hero sweetheart. He works on setting up the shower for you, you finally relieve your body of your outerwear clothing. Putting your hair and wrapping your body in a towel beforehand. You walk to the bathroom to see Eijirou already lathering up in the shower

He sees your gawked expression, “Hey, I wanted to make sure the water was warm enough for you. It’s on hell, just how you like it.”

You giggle, “I do not like it that hot!”

“That’s not what my skin tells me, get in here!”

You enter the shower and immediately, Kirishima showers you in kisses and tells you how much he loves you. He reminds you that you don’t need to feel down and that you’re an amazing hero. Tears fall down your cheeks as he speaks. He holds you in his strong arms from behind, “You are safe here, (_____). You don’t have to worry about anything.”

You take a deep exhale, making a mental note not to be so hard on yourself. It’s one to cause internal worry, but to reach Kirishima would break you. You both finish cleansing yourselves of the dirt and grime of hardworking heroes. At one point you hog all the water on purpose and he turns the water cold, you shiver close to him and he smiles.

He looks down at you grasping him, “I’m glad that you want to be so close to me, baby.” He winks at you.

Your face heats up, “What a sneaky plan!” His laugh roars in the bathroom and makes your heart melt as you feel his chest vibrate against you.

After leaving the shower, you both dress for bed and lay onto the king-sized mattress. Kirishima pulls you in to cuddle close to you. His big arm wraps around your waist as you nestle closer into him. He pulls all the blankets up to wrap the two of you with ease.

“Eijirou,” You feel your body heat up, “I love you.”

His head shoots up to take a look at your face, but you’ve buried it into the pillow you’re lying on. He flips himself on top of you, moving all the pillows so you can’t hide your face. His stare into your beautiful eyes, the usual twinkle in his eyes are now like the gates of heaven. His mouth gaped open.

“(____), Thank you. I love you too.”

#kirishima imagine #eijiro kirishima imagines #kirishima x reader #bnha imagines #eijirou kirishima x reader #FLUFF #Eijirou Kirishima #Kiri #absoluteindulgence stories #Mar's Writings

174 notes · View notes

squidbatts · 4 years

Text

we could stay-

Or: Your name is Kankri Vantas and your father may be out for the night, but a certain wannabe greaser is in

((i challenged myself to rewrite a fic that i wrote in 2013 and this is the result (though this version is mostly makeouts and dry humping while the original was very “chaste kisses and gentle cuddling” but like, that’s what the kids call growth). anyway: humanstuck, not Quite explicit but certainly more than suggestive, so ymmv))

{ao3}

“I’m only going to be gone a couple of hours, alright?” Your father says as he pulls on his coat by the door. You stand straight-backed and nod. Your brother slouches at the foot of the stairs beside you and rolls his eyes.

“Sure,” Karkat says, sarcasm coating his every syllable, “Just text us when you decide you’re staying the night at the Leijons’.”

“I’m not- who even- why would you-?” Your father splutters, flustered. “Listen, that’s none of your business. Anyway,” He says, regaining control of himself, “No parties, no guests, Kankri’s in charge.”

“I take the responsibility incredibly seriously, father,” You say dutifully. Karkat rolls his eyes again, this time with a dramatic full body motion. You ignore him.

“Great. Please don’t destroy the house while I’m gone.” Your father says, as he always does when he goes out on what he refuses to call Date Nights. Karkat mutters something expletive-filled but you merely smile, waving goodbye as your father walks out the door. You continue to stand there, watching through the window as his car starts and pulls off. You watch until it disappears around the corner, then you look down at Karkat.

“All clear,” You say.

Your name is Kankri Vantas and you are in charge for the night.

“Cool, I’m going to my room, don’t fucking bother me,” He says, but you can see that he’s already on his phone. You have no doubt that he’ll be back downstairs welcoming in a gaggle of his little friends in less than half an hour, which means that you have some time to kill. You don't send any texts, but keep your phone close by just in case. You do your homework, eat some of the lasagna that your father prepared for you and your brother, and search through the family movie collection. There are a lot of romcoms.

It is, if you’re being honest, mostly romcoms.

But you knew that before you started looking, because you’ve gone through your family’s movies with almost alarming frequency of late.

Regardless, you pick out a movie, put it into the DVD player, and wait. Eventually, you hear a knock on the door, but before you can open it or call him down, Karkat stomps downstairs, scowling.

“Can you douchenozzles not read a simple fucking text? I said not to knock, jesus fucking christ,” Karkat says.

“Language,” You chide, mostly reflexively, as you walk up. There are five children outside your door, including the youngest Maryam, who is holding a pizza box and avoiding your eye. You wonder how she got her mother to let her out of the house on a school night, but decide it’s very much not your business. Still, you’ll probably text Porrim about it later, just to check.

“Shut the fuck up,” Karkat snaps back, likely also only on reflex. This is a dance you both do often.

“Hi, Karkat’s brother,” One of the kids, a boy in blue, says. You can’t stop your mouth from twitching into a slight frown.

The kids know your name, you know they know your name, and yet they insist on calling you ‘Karkat’s older brother.’

“My name is Kankri,” You say, despite all this.

The boy grins and Karkat snaps out a quick, “Yeah, no, we aren’t fucking doing this tonight,” and ushers the all of them in and up the stairs, shooting a quick, “Text me if dad’s actually coming home,” to you over his shoulder.

You nod, agreeing to your own side of the unspoken Date Night agreement you two have. There’s something of a comradery in breaking this one rule; others you won’t allow, and five friends are pushing the “no party” rule in ways that you’ll detail to Karkat in a thoughtfully crafted note tomorrow, but this one... Well, it has benefits for everyone.

Brother and friends firmly dealt with, you pull out your phone and send a simple text of your own: I am going to be watching a movie tonight while my brother and his friends yell and do whatever else children their age do on weeknights upstairs, as my father has gone out with Ms. Leijon and is likely to return late, if at all.

There’s a brief moment before you get a response, like the person on the other end was sitting in their bedroom, part of their attention dedicated to pretending to know how to play a guitar but mostly just waiting for you to text. got it chief, the reply reads, and a smile flickers across your face. Ten minutes later, you hear the sound of a hot rod roaring past your house and around the corner, gaudy and loud with a royal purple finish. You stand, making your way into the kitchen and opening the back door in time to watch Cronus Ampora trip over your neighbor’s hose and his own untied Chuck Taylors. He recovers easily enough, and saunters the rest of the way between the yards and to your door, hips swinging as his expression melts into a smirk like an ice cube on a stovetop.

“Hey there, doll,” He says as soon as he gets close enough to speak to you quietly. Your face scrunches, but he laughs and cuts you off before you can begin yet another treatise on how calling you doll is rude and embarrassing. “I know, I know, K. Won’t do it again.”

He will, almost certainly. You let him in anyway. You leave him in the living room to call up the stairs, “Karkat, do you want any lasagna?”

It’s a test, both to see if Karkat can hear you from the bottom of the stairs and to see if he’s hungry enough that he’ll want something from down here in the next hour or so.

“Fuck off!” Karkat yells back, over a chorus of laughter. You don’t roll your eyes, because you’re not your brother, but you do add another paragraph to the note -- no, email, it would probably work better as an email rather than a series of post-its on his door by now -- that you’re going to leave him tomorrow. You return to the living room and press play on the movie. You barely even remember what you’ve put in at this point, but you give yourself a moment to stare at the screen as the blonde love interest starts her day and rushes around her office, and to take a deep but subtle breath, before you turn back to Cronus.

Cronus is sprawled upon the couch, one leg spread across all three cushions while the other hangs onto the ground and the rest of his body sags against the arm, barely moving as he boredly scrolls on his phone. He’s shed his leather jacket and wears purposely distressed t-shirt that you know he cut the sleeves off himself. You clear your throat.

“Am I going to be allowed to sit down?” You ask. Cronus smirks and you immediately continue, “If you even begin to offer your lap as an acceptable place to sit-”

“Relax, K, I would never do somethin‘ so -- what’s the word? -- demeaning.”

You raise an eyebrow, begrudgingly impressed. “Yes, demeaning is the right word there.”

Cronus flashes you a shark’s smile as he rearranges himself to take a reasonable amount of space on the couch. “See, I know all my lingo, chief. Talk at a guy enough and anyone can pick up your social justice stuff.”

Your jaw tightens at his words but you make yourself relax. You don’t hang out with Cronus Ampora for his aptitude at activism. You, in fact, don’t hang out with Cronus Ampora at all.

Except for movie nights.

Behind you the movie plays on, and though you’re not watching it, you know what’s happening: a proposed article shot down, a bet and courtside basketball tickets, the consoling of a recently dumped best friend. You’ve seen this one many times, because Karkat and your father have unfortunate affinities for them. You, at least, have the decency to keep misogynistic, predictable, degrading things as a rarely indulged guilty pleasure.

You take a seat beside Cronus. Far enough apart that your bodies do not touch but close enough that you can feel the heat from the arm Cronus has thrown over the back of the couch. You sit, back straight, hands in your lap. You can feel Cronus looking at you. The fingers on your left hand twitch against your pant leg.

“Kankri,” Cronus starts to whine, but you cut him off with a shush.

“I am watching the movie.”

“Is that how we’re gonna play it tonight?” Cronus asks. When you hum in the affirmative, he huffs childishly. You’re surprised that he doesn’t cross his arms and stamp his feet too. “Fine then.”

It’s quiet for a moment, Matthew McConaughey the only voice in the room, before Cronus clears his throat and says, “So, uh, what’s this movie about anyway?”

Your eye twitches. You wish it didn’t but you know it did and you can almost feel the waves of smug glee radiating from Cronus as he shifts ever so slightly closer to you. You hate explaining movies while the movie is playing, but you suppose that since you did make him miss a bit of the beginning, it’s only fair that you help him out.

“She writes how-to articles for a women’s magazine but she wants to do hard investigative reporting, and he’s a marketing executive who’s trying to get a deal to represent a diamond seller,” You explain.

“Alright,” Cronus says, his thigh meeting yours as he leans in, voice pitched low so you can still pay attention to the movie over his questions. “How’d they meet again?”

“The women at his workplace -- they’re both named Judy -- asked him to prove that he understood romance so he could acquire the diamond deal from them, and then tricked him into choosing her as the woman he would ’woo‘.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes!” You exclaim, shoulders rising in annoyance at the lack of attention Cronus is paying to the movie. When they fall again, Cronus’ arm slips over them. “She is trying to sabotage a relationship for her column, so he’d never be able to sincerely start a relationship with her, even if he wasn’t approaching her under false pretenses.”

“Uh-huh, got it. One more question,” Cronus says, voice shockingly close to your ear. You turn and he is- close. Very close. Your breath catches in shock. “How many times have you seen this one?”

“I haven’t-”

“Come on, Vantas, don’t lie to me,” He says, whispers, inching ever closer to you. Your mouth feels suddenly dry and you lick your lips, watching Cronus’ eyes track the movement. “Hey, Kankri?”

“Yes?” You prompt, voice barely a murmur. Cronus’ nose touches yours.

“I really don’t care about this movie.”

What happens next is inevitable. You wish you could say that Cronus kisses you and you’re entirely taken unaware. You wish you could say you don't know who moved first. Unfortunately, you know that it was you who saw the look in Cronus’ eyes, who felt the heat of his body and smelled his ridiculous expensive cologne, and leaned in, unable to keep up an uninterested face any longer. You go to kiss him and Cronus happily meets you, easy and hot and just what you wanted, wonderful enough as he bites at your lip and runs a hand through your hair that you barely even mind that you can feel the smug twist of his mouth against your own. You shift to get closer, to get a better angle to map the shape of his mouth, eventually giving up all decorum and tossing a leg over him to slide into his lap.

“Not a word,” You say.

Cronus raises his hands in surrender though his eyes still flash with mirth. “I’m not the one with the talkin' problem, chief.”

You kiss him again to shut him up. Admittedly, the way he licks into your mouth, how his hands slide over your hips and his fingers edge under your sweater, they’re all enticing, but they’re all particularly nice pluses when the main concern is occupying his mouth with something else. Your pocket buzzes and you think, somewhat vaguely, Oh, my phone. I need to get that.

“One second,” You say, and Cronus immediately starts to whine. You only manage to pull your phone out of your pocket before Cronus decides to switch his energy from whining to paying attention to your neck, taking care to suck and bite only at places that will be under your usual turtleneck’s coverage.

Suddenly, you’re no longer worried about your phone.

It’s fine, You think, dropping your phone to the carpet and shoving a fist into your mouth as Cronus presses an open-mouthed kiss to your jawline, Whatever’s happening can wait. You weave a hand into Cronus’ gel-stiff hair, mussing it as you tug to get Cronus’ mouth back up to yours. Cronus groans, low and needy and cut off as you greedily swallow the sound. From your perch on his lap, you can feel that Cronus’ whole body is very interested in the proceedings; you don’t grind down because that would be undignified, but even a slight shift of your weight is enough to make Cronus’ hips jerk.

“Jesus fucking christ, Kankri,” Cronus gasps into your mouth, “You’re gonna kill me.”

Something like pride fills your chest as something like interest warms your stomach. You shift again. “Am I?”

“Fuck, alright, lemme just,” Cronus starts brokenly before gripping your thighs and easily laying you onto the couch before leaning over you, arms bracketing your head. “This okay?”

You throw a leg around his waist and an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. “I find it perfectly acceptable.”

“I’ll show you ‘acceptable’,” Cronus says with a roll of his eyes before he’s kissing you again, his whole body a warm, shifting weight against your own. When he grinds into the couch, into you, you arch into it, heel digging into the small of his back.

You aren’t sure how long you’re there, kissing and rocking against one another, but eventually you hear a faint rumble over the now-ignored sounds of your movie. It sounds familiar, and something inside you, a part of your mind that’s somehow been able to retain its ability to think about anything but the sensations you’re experiencing now, says Pay attention! You reluctantly shift some of your focus to listening, allowing Cronus to go back to mouthing at your neck; it takes you a moment but you’re able to remember that it’s the sound of a car pulling up to the house. You jolt with shock and horror as you place it even more specifically as the sound of your father’s car.

“Fuck.”

Cronus leans back on his haunches, eyes wide. “Kankri Vantas, did you just curse?”

“Now is not the time,” You reply, pulling him back down and out of view from anyone who might look into your living room windows. “On the floor, now.”

“Are you being bossy now? Is that the move?” Cronus asks, laughing.

You don’t have time to explain or deal with his humor as you see the shadow of your father pass by, so you just shove him off the couch and cut off his grumbling by saying “My father is home.”

Cronus presses himself flatter to the ground. “Oh, fuck.”

“Exactly. Stay down and stay quiet, I can handle this,” You say as the lock turns. Cronus nods and mimes zipping his lips. Your father enters the house.

“Karkat? Kankri? You guys up?” Your father asks, kicking his shoes off. You sit up, hoping you look more sleep-rumpled than hand-mussed.

“Oh, father,” You say, affecting a yawn. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah, Di- er, Ms. Leijon, she felt sick, so we decided to call it a night,” He says. Cronus, from his spot lying completely flat and supposedly still, taps on your knee. Your father is not looking at you, busy removing his shoes and coat, so you entertain Cronus with a glance. He’s pointing at a nearby chair over which he threw his jacket, but you know it’s out of eyeline from the foyer so you shake you head subtly, eyes still on your father, and emphatically gesture something you hope he interprets correctly as stay still. Your father says, “I texted you.”

You think of you phone, on the carpet under Cronus, and curse past Kankri. “Ah. You must’ve sent it after I’d already fallen asleep.”

“It’s bad for your back to sleep down here,” Your father says, muffled as he opens the coat closet. “What were you doing anyway?”

Nothing really, despite my best efforts, thinks a sullen and unnecessary part of your mind. The rest of you clears your throat. “I had just been watching a movie.”

“Which one?”

It takes you a beat longer than it should to remember. It feels like there’s been a millennia of kissing Cronus between you picking out the movie and now. “How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days.”

“Oh, that one! I really-” Your father turns to you finally and pauses for a moment. When he continues, his voice is more disbelieving. “How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days, huh?”

“Yes,” You answer, off-put by his tone. The movie is still playing on the television behind you, so you’re not sure why he’s acting like it’s out of the realm of possibility. Somewhat defensively, you continue, “It’s one of my favorites.”

Cronus doesn’t laugh, because he values his life and is staying quiet, but you can see how he tenses like he’s holding in laughter in your peripheral vision. It takes effort not to scowl at him.

“Mhm. Well, you should probably be getting to bed soon.”

“Will do.” You say, and then you stare at your father with a fixed smile as he watches you with a raised eyebrow. It is the most stressful minute of your life. Eventually, he shakes his head and smiles.

“Alright. Goodnight, Kankri,” Your father says, and you reply in kind. You sink into the couch in relief, sharing a still-panicked we did it look with Cronus.

“Oh, and Kankri?”

You freeze and pop back up at the sound of your father’s voice. He’s not in your eyeline, speaking as he walks up the stairs. “Yes?”

“Next time, make sure that your friend isn’t taller than the couch is long.”

Your eyes dart to the floor and catch on Cronus’ stupid candy cane socks are far past the edge of the couch, where they can definitely be seen from the foyer. “I-”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, I’m too tired for this right now. Night, kiddo.”

You facepalm, with both hands for good measure. Below you, Cronus whispers, “Sorry.”

“You should just… Go, please. I’ll,” you run a hand down your face, embarrassment quickly overpowering whatever brief bits of relief you felt. “I suppose I’ll text you, after I speak to my father.”

Cronus nods and you help him to his feet. You walk him to the door, at which point he asks, “So… no more movie nights?”

You tighten your jaw so hard that your teeth ache. “Are you seriously thinking about that right now?”

“Yes- No- I mean, okay, yes, I’m wondering about like, this, about hookin’ up and shit, but also, I’m gonna… miss hanging out with you,” Cronus says, looking out into the yard rather than at you, which is good because your face feels hotter than it ever has before and you’re sure you must look ridiculous. “We don’t talk at school, obviously, so this was the only time I got to spend with you in person, y’know.”

“I-” You open and close your mouth in shock. “Cronus-”

“But I’m also gonna miss touching that sweet ass of yours,” Cronus continues, absolutely destroying the mood.

“Go.”

“You’re cute when you’re pissed,” Cronus says. You scowl, but still lean into it when he kisses you goodbye. Everyone has their vices. “See you, doll.”

Your splutters drown out his laughter as he books it for his car. To his retreating back, you hiss, maybe too loud for this time of night but absolutely necessary, “Don’t call me doll!”

#cronkri #kankri vantas #cronus ampora #homestuck #humanstuck #one shot

68 notes · View notes

richiefuckfacetozier · 5 years

Text

Chapter 3: Winding Me Up Inside

Story: Why Can’t This Be Love

Click to read on Archive

Art of Eddie and Richie by @whatidoisxsecret

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

___

Eddie honked profusely at the car in front of him. Everyone had decided it was idiot day on the road as one of the bridges was down from a car fire. People were cutting him off or making illegal u-turns that almost hit his car. He ended up pulling over to grab a drink at a restaurant. He wasn’t very well going to die tonight if he could calm his nerves with alcohol instead. It was unfortunate that he left his pills at home, knowing they could calm him immediately but a gin and prune juice, his healthy alcoholic beverage of choice, would have to do the trick.

About a month had gone by since ‘The Arrangement’, something Richie had started calling their pretend dating. Eddie would’ve rather called it ‘The Nightmare’ but Richie wanted a positive outlook on the situation.

Eddie eyed a grungy bar next to a pizza joint that looked perfect to grab a cheap drink. However, upon further observation, there was a rainbow flag sticking out above the bar’s entrance. He blinked at it, took a step forward, then froze. His body had seized up at the prospect of going in.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there but a booming voice said, “You in or out?” Tossing him from a temporary mind blank.

“Huh?” Eddie focused on the bouncer standing by the entrance, who was ripped and large. He never understood having such intimidating people be the first greeting you encounter before entering a bar or club. Don’t these businesses want people to come in? “Oh...er...no no. Just searching for a place to drink.”

“Well, this is a bar.” The man eyed Eddie up and down, giving the impression of being humanly x-rayed. “Drinking is the main activity...among other things.” There was some prolonged eye contact between them that dried Eddie’s throat into a Sahara desert.

Eddie nodded shifting forward. He reached for his wallet, which had his ID, but his hand merely hovered over his slack's front pocket.

“Maybe another time?” The man suggested with a lighter tone. Eddie straightened up, nodded and walked away.

He just failed at that pretty spectacularly. What would Richie think? Probably that he was a chicken. This had been an extra hard month. With the realization, he may have stronger feelings toward guys than he had ever admitted to himself. He had stopped sleeping, barely ate, and secluded himself more.

Suddenly, the demise of his relationship with Myra was making more sense. When she used to touch him sensually, his skin crawled. He assumed that was from the years of his mother convincing him the world was a germ-infested blackhole, girls were dirty, and how he could never truly be clean. Except he rarely felt that way when Richie touched him. Or any of his friends. Sure, they had known each other for years, but he knew Myra for a long time too and it didn’t settle into a comfortableness that relationships were meant.

He tended to resist Myra’s kisses, fake not feeling good to get out of sex, and pushed her away constantly. Their break up had been devastating. At the time he believed it was because the love of his life left him. Now he knew the truth.

Eddie eventually got a drink at a bar a few blocks away. The drink refreshed and calmed him immediately. It’s funny how certain things relaxed him right away because he’d conditioned himself to feel that way. His mind began thinking about tomorrow, a chilling dread running up his neck. He scratched at the nape even though nothing truly itched.

He was seeing his friends for a pre-engagement party celebration. Just the seven of them. The thought almost made him break out into sweats. He downed his drink and ordered another. Usually, he would be extremely excited and thrilled to see the losers club, except the next step in the arrangement, was occurring. Eddie had to come out collectively to the group. A fake coming out but that fakeness was becoming authentic with every passing moment.

He wished there was someone he could talk this out with. There was Mike, but that felt wrong somehow. The one person he wanted to tell was Richie. What would he even say? There was a nightmare scenario he replayed every day that Richie would laugh in his face, which logically he would never do but Eddie’s attempts at controlling his imagination have never come to fruition.

While he was absently stirring his drink, his phone started ringing. A picture popped up on his screen of Richie lifting a screaming/laughing Eddie from behind. He took an extra second to remember the joyful memory, running a finger over the picture then answered.

He sighed into the phone, “Hey, Rich.”

“Where you at, gumdrop?” said Richie with an obvious smile in his voice.

“A bar. The traffic was crap, so I am waiting it out.”

“What’re you wearing?” He said suggestively.

Eddie frowned, huffing out, “Work clothes, why?”

Richie clicked his tongue, “Cause you are supposed to be at Beverly and Ben’s celebration extravaganza in,” quick pause where Eddie figured Richie was looking at his phone for the time, “20 minutes.”

“No, it is tomorrow.” Eddie insisted.

“No, my cutie patootie Eds, it is today.”

“No,” He said slowly. “It’s on Friday, you turd.”

A laugh came through the phone, “Today IS Friday.”

Eddie paused as horror sunk in fast and deep. “Oh shit…”

“Yeah, so see you at the restaurant!” Richie hung up, leaving Eddie to his panic.

He slapped down a $20 on the bar counter, despite the drink being less than half that and bolted out the door. He ran past the bouncer who shouted, “Don’t trip, kid!”

His car turned on with a roar then he zoomed out of the space. The traffic had significantly cleared which worked in his favor as his car swerved around dangerously. His heart pounded with adrenaline. When he pulled up in front of the restaurant, Richie was standing on the curb smoking a cigarette.

Eddie gave the valet his car keys, not even thinking about how much that would cost him at the end of the night, and hurried over to his friend.

“The prodigal son has returned!” Richie tossed the second half of his cigarette on the ground, stomping it out for good measure. As Eddie neared Richie wrapped an arm around his shoulders pulling them close together. The smell of smoke was both overwhelming and familiar. As much as Eddie despised the disgusting habit, he was so used to it that he could brush it off.

Eddie pushed on his chest to free himself a little but not enough to break contact. “I can’t believe I fucking forgot.”

“Take a minute to breathe, Eds. Where’s your head been at lately?” Richie asked in what he probably thought was a casual tone, except, Eddie knew better. His friend was really asking ‘Where have you been?' or 'Why are you isolating yourself?’.

Isolation was the only solution for hiding his emotions, which had been many and increasing each day he spent alone with his thoughts.

Instead of answering the question, Eddie shrugged and smiled lightly.

Richie reached up and pinched Eddie’s cheek with a “Cute, cute, cute!”

“Stop it, I hate that!”

He laughed, “You ready to do this?”

Eddie took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, “I can’t do this.”

“You CAN do this!” said Richie with excitement. “Just be yourself.”

“Fake coming out to my friends is the worst idea we’ve ever had. It is wrong.”

“What do you suggest then?”

Eddie nervously glanced at his feet, “I think we should just out ourselves to Bill like we planned next.”

“You think they are going to believe Bill without any pretense? No, you have to come out and it has to be tonight since it’ll be the only time we are all together before Beverly and Ben’s engagement party. If you steal her thunder in any way, she will murder. Who she’ll murder is unclear but it starts with Ed and ends with die. Hey! That was more clever than I intended.”

Eddie swallowed, “Alright, but Richie…”

He made a tracing motion toward the ground “There will be a chalk shaped Eddie on the ground with Beverly DNA everywhere. It’s going to work, Eds. I promise.”

“Don’t call me, Eds. Listen, Rich I…”

“Stop trying to come up with excuses! It’s going to be fine.”

“No, Richie! Just shut up a second!” His heart was beating out of his chest, he had to tell Richie what he had been going through or everything could be ruined. He had to give him an out if he wanted. Eddie shrugged off Richie’s arm, so they were facing each other. “I’ve been thinking that I...I…”

“Well, spit it out Eds. Thinking what?”

“I THINK I MIGHT ACTUALLY LIKE GUYS!”

Richie stood shocked and silent at first, just staring. Those ice-blue eyes hiding secrets and judgments that Eddie desperately wanted to hear aloud. Tears had caught in Eddie’s eyes which he blinked away quickly. “Well! Don’t just stand there, asshole! Say SOMETHING!” He demanded.

“I...I…” Richie sputtered face turning crimson red.

“Well, spit it out, Trashmouth.” mocked Eddie.

“I do too.” He gasped out.

It was Eddie’s turn to stare in silence. “Sorry, I think I went temporarily insane. Repeat that?”

“I like guys, too. I have since college.” Richie sighed with relief. “Maybe longer.”

“What? You have?” This revelation made Eddie take a step back. “I had no idea.”

“Not relevant information to disclose.” Shrugged Richie.

Eddie gave a confused look then lowered his eyes skeptically, “This isn’t a joke, Richie. I actually believe I am gay.”

“You're the one who shoved a rainbow cake with sprinkles on top of my bisexual pie.” Richie’s eyes twinkled.

“Wow,” A smile broke out across both their faces, pure joy at the realization that they weren’t alone. They had never been alone. “What were the chances that 2 out of the 7 of us friends would be gay.”

They stood there, in a rare silence, watching each other with a newfound comradery that didn’t seem possible after 20 years of friendship. Richie grabbed Eddie’s forearm and pulled him in for a hug, which was returned 10 fold. Tears that he forgot to keep holding in fell into the side of Richie’s neck. His emotions were on a rollercoaster with no chance of stopping. He faintly heard Richie say, “Eddie, I…”

He didn’t get to finish what he planned to say because a “Richie! Eddie! W-what’s the hold up?” Interrupted them. They quickly broke their embrace as Bill appeared beside them. He looked calm despite a bit of impatience in his eyes, then saw their faces and concern washed over him immediately.

Bill put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, the weight very comforting. “Everything ok?” He reached in his pocket and took out a travel tissue pack. Eddie gave a watery giggle, taking one and blowing his nose.

“Yeah, Big Bill,” said Eddie. “Everything’s great.” And he found that his words were true.

After a few more breathes and checking himself in the selfie camera of his phone, Eddie felt ready to face his friends. The three men walked into the restaurant, heading to a back room that Ben reserved for the occasion.

“Congrats to the couple!” Richie shouted as he bounded over to bear hug and lift Beverly off her feet. She laughed swatting at him, “Let me go you dorkface!”

“Dorkface!” Exclaimed Richie. “Of all the sass to receive from your dude of honor.”

Eddie watched the exchange warmly. Ben patted him on the back. “Traffic?”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Eddie said embarrassed. “Tons.”

“There was a car fire and crash on the bridge.” Came the dry, toneless voice of Stanley Uris. “Surprised it wasn’t you Eddie, with all your road rage.”

Eddie gave a pout in Stanley’s direction but walked over to his friend for a handshake and a hug. “Such a kind, warm greeting from you Stan. I miss you, too.”

“Where’ve you been lately?” He sounded unperturbed, but he wouldn’t ask if there wasn’t a genuine concern.

“Oh ya know,” Eddie trailed off with a shrug. Stanley lifted an eyebrow but didn’t push it, for now at least.

Eddie started to seat himself between Stanley and Ben when Richie grabbed his collar jerking him backward. “Scoot over, Stan the man.”

Stanley rolled his eyes, “No.”

“Why?” asked Richie.

“Because I am comfortable here.”

“You’re being a stinker, Stanley. Move to the seat next to Ben. You like Ben, don’t you?”

“Of course I…”

Richie looked right at Ben, “Too bad for you, Benny boy, it seems Stanley doesn’t like you anymore.”

“Beep- beep, Richie,” Beverly warned while drinking a glass of wine and placing a hand on Ben’s arm.

“I’m just saying it is suspect that the best man doesn’t want to sit next to the groom.”

“He’s not a groom until the wedding day.” Stanley insisted. “And I am already sitting…”

“Richie isn’t gonna let it go, Stan. Just move over one.” said Bill with strong finality. None of the losers liked to admit anymore that Bill remained the group’s leader even into adulthood. But when he made a request it was usually followed with little argument. Eddie figured it didn’t matter how independent any of them grew up to be, Bill still held a controlling rope over them. Something Stanley was known to resent.

He moved over a seat as Eddie gave an apologetic look at every one. Getting between Richie and Stanley tended to end in him being yelled at, so he rarely bothered anymore. Besides, he bickered with Richie more than anyone else so Stanley had no room to complain.

Richie glanced around the room realizing they had a missing loser. “Where’s Mike?”

“Bathroom,” Responded Beverly, still nursing her drink. “How was work, Eddie?”

“Fine, I guess.” The last thing he wanted to talk about, except his mother, was his boring job. “An econ student was hired as my intern, which makes me think I’ve finally made it.”

“Poor bastard is in for a world of ribbing by all your accounting co-workers,” said Richie, bumping Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie laughed, “Oh, I already made a joke at him today. Why do economists exist?” He scanned around the table then opened his mouth to answer.

Mike’s voice interrupted from the door of the private room, “So accountants have someone to laugh at.”

“Mike!” whined Eddie. “You stole my punch line.”

“Sorry, Eddie.” He took his seat between Beverly and Bill.

Stanley smirked, “You practiced that joke didn’t you.”

“Shut up,” Eddie groaned. “How was your trip, Ben?”

“Not the best,” Ben sighed, he wore a deprecating grin. No matter the story, Ben always had some kind of upturned smile, it was a unique quality. Considering most people told Eddie he had sad eyes, being able to smile at all times would be an excellent trait. “I didn’t leave early enough like I usually do because it was so early in the morning. I left my water bottle in the rental car they got me, then ran from TSA to the gate, was in my seat when I realized the sweater Bev got me for my birthday was back at security.”

Beverly rubbed his back soothingly, “We can get you new ones of both those things.”

“I know, it’s just a bummer because they were special items before I lost them.” Eddie understood. Ben and he shared the same mentality about their personal items, each thing they owned held a nice memory. He knew that the water bottle was one Ben got from his job after the big promotion, he could ask for another one but it wouldn’t be the same as the moment he received the gift. The feeling of pride and achievement all through a meaningless material item.

“Well, lucky for you, Ben.” Richie pulled out something from his bag, handing it across the table to Ben. “I had these made for everyone.” Richie continued grabbing water bottles from his bag, passing them around.

“This is so nice, Rich!” said Beverly. She laughed at the label. Eddie looked down at his seeing ‘#TeamBenverly’. It was great quality, a platted maroon paint covered the bottle with the lettering in a bold white.

“I still have the keychain you gave us for my bachelor party.” said Bill.

“That’s right!” Mike chimed in. “What does it say again?”

“Big Bill’s Bitchin’ Bachelor Bash.” Stanley drawled. “Kinda clever.”

Richie grabbed Eddie’s shoulder, making Eddie almost jump in confusion. He stared at Richie, who was clutching his heart in mock shock, “A compliment? I don’t think I can handle that from you, Stanley Urine.”

“I take it back,” said Stanley, “You don’t have any cleverness. Only idiocy.”

“Hmmmm, insults,” Richie leaned in front of Eddie, still holding his shoulder as his face got closer to an unamused Stanley. “They feed my very soul.”

Eddie placed his hand over Richie’s face and pushed him backward the metal of his glasses digging into Eddie’s hand, “Your soul has a healthy appetite then.”

“Oof, your words fill me up most, Eds.”

“Eds is a dumb nickname and you know it.”

“Alright, alright!” Mike called the attention toward him. “Let’s hear from Ben and Beverly. A decade of being together and now you’re tying the knot. How does it feel?”

Ben looked to Beverly, who smiled sweetly at him. “Feels perfect,” said Ben simply, but in those two words, he expressed years worth of working toward friendship and partnership that went beyond infatuation. “I’m so happy. And even happier to have my best friends around to celebrate.”

“This wedding is really about coming together,” started Beverly, “With our friends, the family we’ve chosen, to celebrate love. I think what we have with all of you is rare and...”

Eddie thought deeply about her phrasing ‘the family we’ve chosen’. He had many issues with his mother, different than Beverly’s father problems but they both came from toxic environments. Kindred spirits in a dark and twisted way.

With all his thoughts lately, he had pushed down how his mother would react. He may never tell her, if he could help it. Her religious views left no room for tolerance on the subject.

He shoved thinking about his mother deep in a box in his brain and focused on Beverly, who was still speaking, “...so just thank you for being there for us. Anyway, let’s fucking celebrate!”

They all cheered, Eddie looking around with a smile on his face. With his ‘chosen family’ he could trust them to love him no matter what.

As the night wore on with lots of laughs, food, and stories. Ben brought up the story of when he finally got the courage to ask out Beverly, “I was waiting outside of school, sweating profusely, despite wearing 2 sweaters…”

“You always wore so many layers!” said Bill laughing.

“Well, when you are fat and subconscious, that’s how you hide it.” Ben said, voice lowering a bit in embarrassment.

“Ben Handsome now shows off his true glory and beauty.” said Richie with a wink. “Just the way I like it.”

“Beep- beep, Richie.” Blushed Ben. “As I was saying, I waited outside and she approached me like in slow motion. I thought I was going to throw up. As I opened my mouth to say something she said,” He motioned for Beverly to continue the story.

She giggled, “I said, ‘Ben, let’s go to prom together’. His face drained of color and he passed out.” The whole room erupted in laughs. “I..I was knocked to the ground!” Beverly tried to say through gleeful tears, “He fell forward into me.”

“You were a very pleasant landing.” Ben smiled in mortification.

“You planning to faint at your wedding too?” said Stanley, “As your best man, I will need to prepare.”

“No, I’m not. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” said Richie. “I will have a fainting couch ready as a precaution.”

“You’ll probably just jump in front of Beverly and take one for the team,” piped Eddie.

“Speaking of the wedding,” Stanely rounded on Eddie and Richie. A dread bubbled in Eddie’s stomach. “You two having to bring dates is the smartest rule. I should have thought of that for my wedding.”

Richie threw his napkin at Stanley’s face, “Don’t make me take YOU as my date Stan the man.”

“You could never get this, Trashmouth.”

“I can get whoever I want. Right, Eds?”

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie mumbled. “While we are on the subject, just so no one is surprised, I might bring someone who none of you would expect.” Eddie felt his knee being squeezed from under the table. It took him a moment to realize it was Richie’s hand, he was giving a warning. Most likely telling him to keep the details limited, but Eddie hoped it was a touch for encouragement.

“Please, don’t bring Myra.” said Mike making the group groan collectively.

“Now, that would be unexpected.” Richie snickered.

“Eddie, you’re not actually thinking…” said Bill seriously. “Beverly, if they get back together I blame you.”

“Me?!” Beverly opened her mouth to fight but Eddie interrupted.

“Hello! Back to me, losers. I am not bringing Myra. I am not even interested in women!” The words slipped out quick, and he wished they could be suctioned into his mouth once more.

They went quiet, as the news hit them. Mike was smiling at Eddie. He felt his bravery trickling into cowardice the longer none of them said anything.

“S-so does this mean,” began Bill. “That you-you’re g-“

“Gay? Yes, stuttering Bill.” Richie answered seeming to be frustrated by Bill’s condition for the first time in a long time. Then a chair screeched out and Beverly ran around the table, slamming herself into Eddie.

Her soft hair tickled his neck, his heart was calming down from her sudden show of affection. He placed a hand on the arm she slung over his chest. Richie’s hand hadn’t left his knee either. Everyone else’s reactions were fairly standard, awkward congratulations or they were proud of him, all expected. The surprising reaction was Stanley, perhaps because he didn’t react at all. He was silent for the rest of the evening.

As they all stood outside saying goodbyes, Stanley seemed to linger a little aways from Eddie. He waited for the rest to leave, Richie was the last to hug him and head to his car. He wandered toward Stanley hesitantly. The taller man was twisting his key in hand repetitively, tapping his foot methodically.

“So,” Eddie begun lightly, “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” answered Stanley stiffly. Eddie cocked his head to the side trying to meet his friend’s eyes, then gave up turning to leave. “How do you know?” Came his voice clearly from behind.

Eddie turned around, a few paces away. “Know what, Stan?”

“That you’re into guys.”

“Because I just do?”

“How long have you known?”

“Er...that’s more complicated. I mean I’ve been sitting on it for a month but..”

“A month?” interrupted Stanley, he was getting pink in the cheeks. “You’ve known a month and are coming out. That’s not enough time to know.”

“What’re you talking about?” Eddie was trying to keep his voice calm, he could feel that tingle of rage that surges in him when he feels attacked.

“Have you ever been with a guy?”

“What does that have to do with knowing whether I am gay? I know that every time I’ve thought of girls it hasn’t been the same as with guys. Or how with Myra...”

“Ok, yeah! Myra!” He rose his voice like winning some kind of twisted victory. “You were with her for a year and you really didn’t know?”

“Stan, you’re being a jackass.”

“I am trying to understand why you kept this from us?”

“From YOU, you mean? Stan, I didn’t keep it from anyone. I was figuring out my shit, then I talked about it with Mike and…”

“You told Mike first?”

“Um...no…” He caught himself quickly. “I told Richie first then Mike.”

A hurt flashed over Stanley’s eyes that Eddie hadn’t seen in years. “You told them before me?”

“Stan...come on. I told the rest of you at the same time. It was just easier to tell them at the time.”

“I’ve known you as long as Richie has. Much longer than Mike.”

“It’s not about that!” Eddie was at a loss. This was getting nowhere. “I don’t know what to say, Stan. I’m not going to apologize.”

“There is nothing to apologize for.”

“Then why are you fighting with me like there is?”

Stanley remained silent. His arguments lost on his tongue. “I am tired. I will talk to you later.” And he walked away. Eddie stood there, stomach twisting the food inside uncomfortably, eyes watery from the sadness creeping in his head.

_________

Thanks for the patience for the new chapter! Longer one cause I apparently had a lot to get through. I am starting a second job soon, but I will keep working on the next chapter as inspiration hits. Don't forget to subscribe!

Comments/reblogs/likes "feed my very soul", post questions and thoughts!

And if you want to be on the tag list let me know.

Taglist: @sam-i-am2468 @slashpalooza @frankeeenstein @eds-kas @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @roobarrtrashmouth @hypnoidvoid @imeddie @reddieforlove @appojoos @probablynotacarrot @Twistedbutcute @jawnlawk @decaffeinatedpostmoon @goblinbastards @randomgonzalez @honestly-im-just-sick-of-people @pirates-apologist @asparkleofacrylicquartz @plethoraoffandoms @dangerouspotatox @pan-ini @sarah011 @maximusfracker @callme-eds @vinnosint @02styles94 @justcallme-trashmouth

If your name is crossed out it is cause your tag didn’t work. If you have another tumblr to tag let me know!

#reddie #fake dating au #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #Why Can't This Be Love #WCTBL #benverly #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #stanley uris #bill denbrough #the losers club #fanfiction #it fandom #cursing #gay #i am a loser #shannon writes

227 notes · View notes

notleriff · 3 years

Text

Professional

He struggled to hold it in, and he felt his lungs would burst. Even through the screams, he had kept his eyes shut tight and his cheeks puffed. Finally, he gasped, coughing as he could hold his breath no longer. His eyes peeked open, but all he could see was blocked by dark fabric.

The strange hunter knelt in front of him and smiled the most gentle of smiles. Using his body to block the view of the carnage behind him, he offered his hand. “Come on, Sammy. I will take you home.”

Sammy swung his hands back and forth, trying to keep the blood flowing in his limbs. He craned his head to the side, unsure of what to do with his hands as he watched his father argue with Rotheric, the captain of the Temple Knights that was heading the escort of the two across the western highlands of Coerthas. The young boy turned his attention then to the point of the captain’s current ire, the hunter at the edge of their camp huddled over near a campfire, trying to keep warm as he munched down on the stew made by the camp cook.

“I don’t think I’m overstepping my bounds, sir. Why do we need to hire outside help? That man is mooching a fortune off of you!” Rotheric huffed, putting his hands on his hips as he motioned towards the hunter in the back. “Are we not good enough for this simple trip?”

Ser Hauticlaire wrinkled his nose in annoyance, waving his hand towards his young son. “Samuel.” Sammy hurried over at his father’s request, quick to not disappoint the short tempered man. “Any price to keep my boy safe is a price worth paying.” Ser Hauticlaire dropped his hand to pat his son affectionately on the head, if not a little roughly. “I think his experience with beasts will be helpful. Just deal with it. He is only here to lend his knowledge should we come across any monsters.”

After his father dismissed the captain, Sammy wiggled his way free to head to his tent. He stopped to cast another glance at the hunter, resuming swinging his arms back and forth, a nervous habit, as he tried to decide what to do. Finally, wrinkling his nose in a mimic of his father, he stomped over through the thick snow, halting steps away behind the man. He shuffled his feet in the snow and scrunched his face in hesitation before loudly belting out, “Hi!”

The man nearly dropped his bowl as he jumped, quickly turning to face the young boy. He laughed abruptly before smiling. “Hello there, my young friend.” He adjusted the bowl in his hands before shuffling down the log he was sitting on. “Come, come. You will freeze.” He smiled pleasantly, waving idly. “You are Samuel, yes?”

“I like Sammy.” The boy inched towards the fire, staying wary of the hunter he was unfamiliar with. “Call me Sammy. No one calls me Sammy.” The young boy spoke assertively, but with little practice of doing so. He tried to give orders, like his father would, but with his lack of experience and high pitched voice, he couldn’t do so very well.

“Sammy. Sammy is nice. I like Sammy too.” The man set his empty bowl aside, leaving the boy to his personal bubble. He placed his hand on his own chest with a soft hum. “My name is Leriff. It is nice to meet you, Sammy.”

“Do you use that?” Sammy pointed to the gunblade leaning against the log the hunter was sitting on. “It looks weird. Not like the knights.” Sammy put his palms together and pulled his hands apart a small distance. “They have like--wide…” He mimicked the size of a broadsword with the empty space in between his hands.

“Ahh?” Leriff turned his attention to follow the boy’s gaze, needing a moment to piece together what the little lord meant. “Ahh--yes. I do.” Careful not to startle the boy by suddenly reaching for a weapon, the man leaned over, slowly taking the gunblade into his hand. He set it on his lap as he returned his attention, and the same gentle, almost fatherly smile, to the young charge. “Would you like to see it?”

Sammy quickly stepped back a single step and shook his head frantically. “No. No. Uhh--no. Swords are scary.”

His comment brought forth another laugh from the hunter, who nodded in response. “That they are. I do not like them, either.” He let his hand fall onto the scabbard covering the blade, which he patted once. “Do not worry, my young friend. I only use this sword on monsters.”

“Monsters are scary.”

Leriff lifted his hand to scratch at his beard as he once more nodded slowly in response to the sudden interruption. “Yes, I agree with that, as well. They can be quite terrifying, no matter how experienced you are.”

Taking a brave step back towards the fire, Sammy whipped his hands out from behind his back to warm them before the flames. The sudden jerk towards the open pit caused Leriff to flinch, almost appearing to want to snatch the boy back from the campfire, but the man simply smiled at the child once more before putting the gunblade away. “Father says you’re here to help us fight monsters. That sounds scary. Do you think any will come?”

Satisfied that the sword would not slide down the log, Leriff hummed in thought to the question. “They might. I will make sure you are all safe, however.” When Sammy did not look convinced, the hunter lifted his hands to his eyes. “I will make you a deal. If there are monsters nearby, I will tell you. Then, all you have to do is hold your breath and close your eyes.” Leriff sucked in a breath and slapped his hands over his eyes in an animated fashion before dropping them back to his lap. “When you can no longer hold your breath, open your eyes, and I will have sent all the monsters away.”

With a giggle in response to the goofy face the strange hunter had made, Sammy nodded enthusiastically. “Okay!” He opened his mouth to continue speaking to the man, but at the call of his father, he instead waved one arm frantically. “I have to go--bye--sleep well!”

Leriff filled the sudden silence with a quiet hum, a peacefully pleased noise to compliment the look on his features. “Nice boy.” He chuckled to himself as he shook his head, returning to attempting in vain to keep himself warm before the fire while surrounded by the thick frost of Coerthas.

___

It took a few minutes to get the fire roaring properly, but the moment he succeeded, warmth instantly flooded his body. He let out a sigh, pleased that at least one thing had gone right. Leriff grumbled to himself as he worked to set up camp to spend the night in before heading back in the direction of Ishgard the next morning. “Half!” He fumed, dropping down onto a snow speckled log. “And lucky that!”

Hauticlaire had sent the hunter away with only half the promised pay. He had been insistent that since they did not actually see a monster on the trip, the man did not deserve the full amount. No amount of arguing could convince the lord, and Leriff was not about to commit a crime in view of a company of Temple Knights to earn his deserved pay. Instead of staying to accompany the group on their slow return to Ishgard, he had stormed off to make his own way home.

The man poked the fire with a stick, having gathered all of the suitable firewood he could find in the surrounding area. He picked up a log and tossed it onto the pit as he debated heading off to bed immediately, his foul mood potentially making any attempt to consume a meal impossible. He perked up at the sight of a figure in the distance through the snowfall. Leriff placed his hand over his brow and craned his head around the fire to attempt to make out the approaching shape.

“Ser Anduion!” Hauticlaire stumbled through the thick snow, dragging his coats behind him as he high-stepped towards the hunter. “Is that you?! Ser Anduion! I need your help!”

Leriff flashed a vision of beating the hapless man with the stick in his hand, but sighed nonetheless. He rose to his feet and waved back in response. “What is it?”

The lord, unaccustomed to the labors of running, doubled over before the campfire to catch his breath before letting out a practical vomit of information. Leriff blinked as he found himself taken aback, unable to fully parse what the man was attempting to say. He put out his hand to stop Hauticlaire from speaking. “Slower. What do you want? And you will be paying me double what you were meant to pay me earlier.”

Allowing himself one full breath, Hauticlaire pushed himself upright. “Rotheric took young Samuel!”

Snow scattered over the fire as Leriff kicked his boot into the ground. The fire died suddenly, and behind it the hunter collected his weapon, leaving his other belongings at the camp. “You will tell me the details on the way. Move.” He wrinkled his nose. “Do not mistake my acceptance to mean you will not be paying me.”

___

The situation had proven to be as taxing as he was expecting. Rotheric secretly worked for some lord or another, and had kidnapped the boy to kill, or sell, or ransom, or any other horrible things that sprung to Hauticlaire’s mind. Leriff cared little for the politics of the matter, as infuriating as it all was to involve a child in them, and instead focused only on the hard facts. Rotheric and the fake Temple Knights with him were in a cave. They had the boy in chains somewhere inside and would be waiting the snowstorm out to continue on their way.

Blood pooled at the entrance of the cave, and Leriff stepped over the body of the sentry posted to keep watch, leaving the lord outside. He would be little more than a hindrance, and the hunter did not wish to need keep more than one person’s safety in mind while inside. He leveled his gunblade at his side, and while the thought of sneaking in to survey the situation had crossed his mind, there were no alcoves to hide in, and with the snowstorm outside raging, it was unlikely any of Rotheric’s crew would be able to flee should he make his presence known. So, instead, Leriff walked directly down the short, winding tunnel and into the well-lit clearing of the cave.

Bandits in knight’s clothing leapt from their seats, scattering bottles, dishes and cards. The ones that had weapons close drew them while the others picked up whatever they could find nearby in case the hunter attacked. The cave was too low and too cramped to allow all of them to come at once. While Leriff counted twelve, realistically, only three would be able to surround him. His eyes wandered for Sammy, and he found him in the corner, the boy’s shocked face damp with tears. The sight of the child chained to the table with a metal collar around his neck lit a deep seeded anger in the man. “Release the boy.”

Like the others, Rotheric had drawn his sword and had pointed it at the hunter. “Come on now. There’s money to be made here…” The false captain motioned with his fingers behind his back to his crew, trying to set up their plan on the fly. “You’re a professional, right? We all like making money. Just have to turn around. No reason to play at being one of those heroes, right?”

Leriff let Rotheric ramble on, very calmly opening the cylinder of the gunblade. He loaded cartridges into each chamber--one by one--as the bandits crept slowly around in an attempt to cut the hunter off from leaving the cave. Finally, Leriff interrupted. “Sammy.” The boy looked up as best he could while Leriff narrowed his glare onto Rotheric, snapping the cylinder closed. “Monsters.”

1 note · View note