#THE HEART EYES AND THE MORE RED CHEEKS AAAAAHHHH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mimiplaysgames · 3 years ago

Text

Terraqua Week Day 1 (Weak Spot)

Summary: We all have to make peace with the past. (In which Terra returns in Xemnas’s body and I scream SIZE DIFFERENCE.) || Word Count: 8,319

Read on AO3

A/N: AAAAAHHHH I’m so excited that we’re doing a whole other @terraquaweek !! I have to apologize ahead of time, my fics this year are super long and super packed, but I’m pretty proud of this collection and I can’t wait for y’all to read! I can’t wait to hear what you think! <3

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Time Takes You For Granted

Terra looks so different.

No matter—Aqua has to fight. She can’t hold back when he summons red sabers of light from his palms, can’t falter when he hammers them against the staff of her Keyblade, can’t blink when canyon dust is kicked into her eyes, can’t be fooled by his face because this man is not Terra and couldn’t ever pretend to be.

He opens his arms to conjure a fatal blow—but he underestimates her speed. She’s grown up fighting large men. He is no big deal.

The man with Terra’s face withers when she strikes his midsection. One arm grips his stomach to hold himself together and he brings his other hand up. Dark tendrils evaporate from the leather of his gloves.

“As you wish,” he says to her, richly voiced, smooth as a river stone. “Friend.” He staggers to his knees, groaning as he flickers away.

“Terra!” Ven calls, too fast for Aqua to hold back. The man still wears that same black cloak that marks him as a member of the Organization.

The man shivers when Ven shakes him awake, a quiet “Aqua? Ven?” escaping his lips. He huffs out a hoarse chuckle that clutches out of pain, with a voice that sounds like a morning at the summit of a mountain. “Ven, you’re so short.”

There he is.

“Terra.” Aqua rushes over. “Can you hear me? How do you feel?” she asks, checking for signs of physical injury, a refusal to use a limb, the inability to breathe.

His breath stutters. “Aqua?” There he is.

“I’m here.”

He pants, opening his eyes—now blue again, his hair dark again, there he is. He jerks forward as if desperate to find her, but it’s like he can’t see her. In a drunk and feverish whimper, barely with the strength to sit himself up, he stumbles back. “Aqua. Aqua, I have to tell you something.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she says, checking his temperature with the back of her hand, “just rest.”

“No, I have to say it,” he mumbles. “I have to. I didn’t last time, I didn’t and look what happened—”

“Okay,” she whispers. “Go ahead.”

He pauses, moaning, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“What?”

Ven bursts into a fit of hysteria. “Perfect timing, Terra. Ten out of ten.”

But Terra seems unaware, straddling between the drift to sleep and the fight to stay awake. He nods as if to confirm, mumbling to himself like a baby.

Aqua stares at him, her heart itching to hear it again in case she misunderstood. She has daydreamed of this moment—not like this, anything sweeter than this but genuine all the same—and yet it comes to her like a splash of ice on the face. Terra is older. He has more pronounced cheekbones with less elasticity in the skin, folds of dimples and knowledge when his lips twitch, a thicker jawline, a stronger nose. A glimpse of the future, his long brown hair stretching past the shoulders, oily and excessively gelled up for ridiculous bangs. Aqua brushes his cheek with her fingers.

She should have said something years ago, too.

“What’s going on?” a voice calls out. Riku’s. He skids to a stop when he sees them. “Is that Xemnas?”

The man Aqua fought never introduced himself, but he sure liked to talk a lot. Whoever he was, he’s not relevant anymore. “He’s delirious. We need help picking him up.”

“Wait a minute,” Riku says, approaching them with a smidge too much caution for Aqua to appreciate. “I’ve been fighting Terra all these years?”

“Xehanort,” Aqua says quietly, wrapping Terra’s arm over her shoulders. She shuffles her knees. He’s too heavy. “You’ve been fighting Xehanort.”

Riku nods. It’s his way of apologizing. “Well. That sucks.” He offers to take the other arm. “Xemnas was the leader of the first Organization. A self-inflated piece of work… I didn’t know who he really was. I didn’t recognize him.” He pulls a smile to his face and nudges Ven with his elbow. “Sora and I made sure to give him a hard time.”

Aqua wants him to stop talking.

Footsteps approach them, crunchy with the sound of sand and dirt, and Aqua braces herself for what’s to come. Riku whips around to prepare an explanation, but it’s none other than Kairi.

She sees them with wide and round eyes. Brings her hand to her mouth. “Riku?” Kairi says specifically, asking him questions with her eyes in a private language Aqua can’t understand.

He shrugs. “What do you want me to say?”

Kairi sits on her knees, her skirt too short to cover them from the dirt. “This poor boy. It’s not fair.”

Aqua purses her lips. Ven stares past everyone else.

“We’re all getting punished,” Kairi continues like the sting of knowing that after all is said and done, Sora is gone somewhere and here are Aqua and Ven picking up their own brittle, little pieces. “Look at him.”

Riku sighs. “I have space in my Gummi ship for him. But we need to be quick about it.”

Kairi gasps, wide-eyed. “That’s right.”

Aqua doesn’t want to ask why. Ven does it for her. “What’s up?”

“We can’t let the others see him,” Riku says.

Too late. Roxas appears on the other side of the clearing, heavy in breath. He’s sweet and gentle even when it seems like his mind is a distance away. He looks exactly like Ven but nothing like Ven, a grimness to his smile and a thoughtfulness to his speech like he’s seen and knows too much.

Roxas frowns. “What are you doing?”

“We’re helping him,” Aqua says as a matter of fact, flexing her ankles to stand up with Riku, shouldering half the weight. Terra stumbles on his feet, mumbling something about not wanting to step on any mice. “This is Terra, by the way.”

Roxas stares. “Why?” he asks accusingly.

Aqua stammers. How this boy who has been ripped away from his own friends could ask such a thing—

“Come on, he’s our friend,” Ven says.

“You call him a friend?” Roxas points at Terra. “Do you even know what he’s done?”

Xehanort. What Xehanort has done, but Aqua stops herself from snapping. She says softly, “Terra would never—”

“What if Terra saw what happened? What if he knew? Is he the type to be okay with that?”

She glares at him. No answer comes to her, except when Xemnas called her a Friend.

Kairi steps forward, arms out like a barrier. “He needs medical attention. We don’t have to talk about this right now.”

And they won’t have the chance. Xion slowly comes up behind Roxas. They’re both dressed in the same black cloak that Terra wears like it’s a mark, a forced tattoo. She has her hands cupped into each other, bringing them to her chest like they’re a shield.

“Roxas?” Xion asks. She looks terrified.

“Forget it,” Roxas says, turning over and tugging her by the elbow. “This is dumb. We don’t need to care or be here.”

Aqua refuses to fight this battle, not when Terra is wheezing and flinching as if he’s being crushed under mineral and earth.

“Kairi,” Riku says solemnly, “just guide us back to the ship.” He says to Aqua, “If it’s any consolation, I think he would’ve done something if he knew.”

Aqua nods, choosing to create solace out of his delicate comfort, if only to find the strength to drag Terra across the desert.

It’s a laborious but peaceful walk, what with Kairi talking about healing potions (I’ve learned some during training, maybe I can make Terra one?), and Ven excited about the first meal they’ll have together as a trio again (Pancakes, Aqua. Pancakes.), until they find Lea standing in front of the Gummi ship. He has his hands in the pockets of his cloak, and Aqua wonders if he’s concealing weapons.

Lea is a double-sided coin. One side a mask with a running end of jokes and playful jabs designed to hide the other, steely and scrutinizing.

“I promised myself I would never see Roxas that upset again,” Lea says, as if to blame them for breaking it. “I’ve never seen Xion that upset.” That brand of Lea-lilt in his voice, the one he uses every time he spits out Got it memorized?, is gone, and Aqua admits she respects him more for it. Lea nods over to Terra. “Shouldn’t we leave the trash where it belongs?”

“You’re really going to ask that when you’ve been pining all this time for Saïx?” Riku snaps.

Lea laughs. “You might as well shave my entire head and tell people I’m ugly.” He chills over. “I’m no saint either, but don’t compare us to”—he points at Terra, not Xehanort or Xemnas or whoever—“him. You want to know what I think of Xemnas? He doesn’t deserve an ounce of the worst. The core of rotten fruit. The smell of ass after a trip to the bathroom. The pits of the ocean where all the fish shit clump together and the bloat of dead flesh float around.”

“Don’t mind him,” Riku tells Aqua and Ven. “He likes to exaggerate.”

“I like to make a point.” Lea steadies his breath, hot petrol on the verge of exploding, letting the steam lose pressure. “I like to tell the truth when it matters.”

Aqua glares at him. She doesn’t know Lea that well, and doesn’t know what matters of truth are supposed to mean. But she holds her head high. Her truth screams from the inside of her head.

“Terra would never,” she announces.

Lea scoffs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ven trips on dragging fabric. They’re taking some of the Master’s old robes to Terra, who can’t fit into any of his own clothes anymore. The castle at the Land of Departure is stiff and quiet, like a long-lost stranger. Home isn’t home but a dream, a memory, a trip through aged photos.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Ven says in a sing-song voice.

“The Master was a large man,” Aqua insists.

“Yeah, but Terra’s bicep is bigger than your head now.”

That’s true and… not something Aqua wants to think about—his body though, it’s impressive—not if she wants to hide the blush in her cheeks. Terra is huge now, the crown of her head reaching the base of his diaphragm. He’s so broad that if he hugs her, she’d disappear into the flesh.

Aqua and Ven turn the corner and enter Terra’s room, who has a towel wrapped around his hips. He’s fussing with the wet roots of his hair.

“So much grease,” Terra complains, scratching his scalp with the pads of his fingers. “What the stars was this guy thinking with all this hair gel?”

Aqua stares at the wood of his dresser—not at how sculpted his muscles are (more than ever, actually). Not at the chisels and grooves on his back as he breathes and moves to grab a robe from the rumpled stack is Ven’s arms.

“That one will look nice,” Aqua says, eyeing the ivory color of the robe Terra chose.

“Might,” Ven corrects. “Might look nice.”

Terra snorts. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re bigger than a rhino.”

He laughs. He sounds the same. “All the more to terrorize people with,” Terra says and it wretches at her chest.

“Glad to know you’re still an idiot.”

Terra slips his arms through the sleeves, pulling the robe over his shoulders and across his chest. It’s not flattering. The seams are stretched, the threads exposed, and it wears on his shoulders so tightly that the muscles form hills under the fabric.

Ven points and laughs. “I told you. No one listens to me.”

Aqua pulls the robe off Terra’s shoulders when he slouches into his chair. She tosses it with the rest of the Master’s unfittable artifacts onto Ven’s arms. “Can you take care of these? I’ll stay and help Terra.”

Ven eyes her. With a knowing grin. Like an imp that should be slapped. “Do what? Put his pants on?”

Terra gapes. “What?”

“You’re obnoxious,” Aqua says to Ven.

“You’d miss me if I wasn’t,” Ven says with his nose high to the ceiling. He leans forward, the imp smile stretching to reach ear to ear, curled upwards. “But Terra would like it, wouldn’t he?”

Terra coughs and clears his throat. “Ven, get out.” He waves his arm—and a crash explodes before Aqua can understand what happened. Everything in his room—his shoes, the coat rack, the lamp by his bed, his pillows, books from the shelf, dirty laundry that hasn’t been washed in a decade, dust collected from the same amount of time—fly at Ven. The comforter in particular is what knocks him over.

“What was that?” Ven squeals, sitting up from the rubble. “What was that?”

Terra’s lip quivers. He stares at his hands. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Aqua says, bending over to stack books in her arms. “Ven, get a broom and some rags. We’ve got some cleaning to do.”

Ven trips before heading off, like he couldn’t wait to get out. Aqua has a feeling he’s going to bug her for details later.

“I’m so sorry,” Terra whispers, balling his hands into fists and shoving them into his lap as a preemptive measure.

The Organization’s cloak sits thrown on the floor, still dusty. Aqua pads the excess off.

“Don’t worry,” she says, pulling cheer from somewhere inside to lighten the mood. “I’ll sew you a new robe.”

Terra won’t look at her. He mumbles her a word of thanks when she hands his dirty cloak over.

“Leather can’t be scrubbed like everything else,” she explains. “I’ll clean it later.”

“It’s fine,” Terra says, holding it in his giant hands. He doesn’t move to put it on, and instead stares at the large mirror hanging over his desk in front of him. Aqua stands by his side. She’s tall, but she never once considered herself as thin, her frame skeletal by comparison.

By comparison, she hasn’t changed.

Well, she has. Her smiles are not the same.

Terra’s hair is messy, now with much more for her to brush her fingers through. She doesn’t try. “I don’t remember any of these,” he whispers.

The scars. Knicks in crossed-over patterns across his chest and biceps. A rippled scorch mark by his elbow like a crater, a gouge on one side by the stomach, a deep ravine on the other, near the ribs. More on his back, a textured map for nowhere to go.

“Not a single one.” His voice cracks.

Aqua caresses his shoulder. Those scars are not stories he needs to hear. “What do you remember?” She actually doesn’t want to know, in case Roxas was right.

“Nothing.”

She wants to be relieved, but she isn’t. “Nothing at all?” In twelve years?

“No.”

Aqua wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind him, aware of how he tenses at first and relaxes after, a puzzle piece fitting in exactly the right spot. “Where were you?”

“I don’t know.” He sighs, leaning his head onto hers. “I wasn’t anywhere, I… I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s fine.” Twelve years of nothing and twelve years living with nightmares; there’s not much to talk about. She traces a divot on his shoulder. “I know this one.”

“Yours,” Terra says. When he smirks that way, he looks the same as he always had.

“I stabbed you with a wooden sword.”

“My wooden sword.” He brushes his fingers on the scar. As if he’s reminded of something, Terra frowns. “I was just a kid.” He studies his skin on the reflection, pulling on his face with his fingers, watching the way the skin ripples, the sharpness of cheekbones, the dips and dimples that didn’t used to be there. There are thick streaks of silver underneath the outer layers when he brushes his hair back. He never asked for this. “Can we get rid of every mirror in the castle?” he whispers.

Aqua lets him go. The way he asks makes her want to try memory alteration, to slowly erase what haunts him so he doesn’t have to deal with harsh reminders or sudden blows to the mind. She forces herself to smile—if she shows distress, it would only upset him more. There is nothing they can do about the past and there won’t be a mention of what it’s robbed from them.

“Maybe just the one in here. I’ll help.”

Terra stands up and takes one of his old, simple cotton shirts that he prefers when he goes to bed while Aqua tests the bottom part of the ornate frame. It won’t budge, heavy as lifting a boulder.

“I look ridiculous,” she hears Terra say. The shirt is as tight as second skin, what used to sit on him loosely now gripping for dear life across his upper stomach, his belly button exposed.

Aqua purses her lips, heat to her cheeks. “Do you remember waking up?”

“Where?” He’s layering the cloak over the scandal.

“At the Keyblade Graveyard.”

“No,” he says. She’s known him for years. She can tell he’s sincere. “Why?”

“Just wondering how far your memory goes,” she says, playing serious. She’ll have to figure out a different way to bring up that conversation. “I can’t lift this alone.”

“Not a problem.” Terra grabs his side of the mirror and lifts it off its hook like it’s a single piece of paper. He clears his throat. “Um—wow.”

“That’s impressive,” Aqua says, and Terra blushes purple.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aqua makes it back home in time for lunch, and finds Terra sitting on the bar that splits the kitchen from the dining room, wearing his cloak with the zipper open, no shirt and leather pants. It must be blistering hot in those considering the sunny weather. He’s complained about having to sleep naked.

She presents him with several bags on the counter. Rolls of fresh cotton shirts and pants for lounging, nylon for sparring and wool for the winter. He splits a warm grin when he feels how soft they are. It almost brightens his deep dark circles.

“I also found these gorgeous fabrics,” Aqua says, showing him the silk she means to make him a new robe in that same ivory color, with embroidered, rust-colored strips that she’ll use for the borders and trims. “This will look good with your armor.”

“Let me show you what I’ve been working on.” On his lap are a set of the Master’s old hakama. Terra is attempting to tailor it…all through hand sewing, the needle swallowed by his thick fingers. The threads are bunched up and knotted over, if they don’t skip some parts. “What?” he asks. She must be making a face. “It’s ugly isn’t it.”

“Nothing that skill can’t help,” Aqua says, taking the pants from him and not apologizing for anything.

He taps the counter with his fingers. “Riku told me about Xemnas.”

Aqua stops the urge to groan, folding over the fabric carefully and pretending that name doesn’t boil her blood. “What did he say?”

“Xemnas was a telekinetic.”

That explains some things. “Okay.”

“Apparently he could lift entire buildings.”

Aqua snorts.

Terra leans forward. “Hey, you can’t blame me for the back door.”

“But it makes sense.”

Terra has blown open said door. He has also destroyed historical statues and windows that are difficult to replace. He has even ripped a tree from its roots when he practiced his powers outside. The more he gets scared of these abilities, the more destructive he becomes. Terra’s body is not entirely sane on its own either—he’ll step on pebbles, on glass barefoot, and he can’t feel a thing.

“Can you answer Riku for me?” He pulls the Gummiphone from his pocket, the device smaller than his palm. “The buttons are too small. I’m thinking of asking Chip and Dale to build me a custom-sized one.”

She takes his phone, the screen smudged with his round fingertips, larger than her nails. “Are you going to stop training your new powers?”

He flinches. “They’re not mine.”

“Well...” she says gently, cradling his phone in her hands. It’s warm from his touch.

“Not that I can control them.” He huffs, frustrated enough to crack the counter in half if he tries.

“Why don’t you show me how far you’ve come?”

He glares at her.

“The oranges.” She points to the kitchen on the other side of the room. Oranges, pears, and apples sit in a wooden bowl by the sink. “Pick one of them up.”

“That’s a little too much to ask for.”

“One tiny orange?” She smirks. “You can balance it on your pinky.”

He scoffs. “You talk as if you like me like this.”

Aqua clears her throat, suddenly deep in a trench that she can’t climb out of. “You can’t help what happened to you, but you can help yourself.”

Terra rolls his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. Stars, it’s like being in class again.”

“I’m pleased with that. Try sliding the bowl over.”

Terra leans his elbows onto the counter and opens his palms, his fingers curled like claws. What surprises her is how fast the bowl responds, like it’s channeling an emotional reaction, immediate and neurotic. It rattles, as if it weighs several tons under an ocean.

Aqua looks over at his furrowed concentration, sweat glistening as though he’s wrestling instead of picking up fruit. “What’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

She smiles. “There was a day when we didn’t know what our Keyblades would look like. That was exciting and terrifying at the same time, remember?”

“You sound like the Master.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

Terra grunts. “Fine, I’ll try harder.” Though he doesn’t have to prove anything to Aqua. Ever.

Terra waves his hands to the right and—disaster.

The bowl flips over and crashes into the fridge.

Plates and mugs burst out of the cupboards, shattering when they hit the floor. Pots and pans soar, crossing the entire kitchen and slamming into the grandfather clock, destroying the glass casing and tearing apart the inside as gears sputter to the floor.

The clockface nearly lands on Ven’s head when he enters with a glass of water in his hand. He freezes. It cracks when it hits the tile. Forks, spoons, and other utensils spin past him and stab the wall, the knives wedged into it.

“Ven!” Aqua calls, running to him. He’s fine. If anything, he’s shivering from shock.

“Ven,” Terra starts, scrambling up from the stool but he flicks his hands too quickly. The water from Ven’s glass splashes him on the face. “Stars, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Ven says, wiping his face. “Worry about it.” He inhales. “You nearly impaled me.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Sit,” Ven says, pointing at Terra. “On your hands.”

Terra does as he’s told, slumping his shoulders over as if to shrink. But it’s a parody, an elephant hiding behind a palm tree, a giant monster puppy rejected.

Ven looks over the destroyed grandfather clock—it was one of the Master’s newer ones, who developed a fondness for them late into his life. “This one was a stars-damned eyesore, anyway.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aqua is dressed in her shorts and shirt, preparing for bed when she hears another crash, this time a dull crack, breaking apart right outside her bedroom.

Terra is carrying a door handle, still attached to shards of wood. He is furiously shivering, wearing the new clothes she bought for him.

“Terra, are you okay?” she asks gently.

With effort, he calms himself, the handle shaking in both of his hands, a hole in his door the only other thing amiss. “I can fix it.” His undereye circles are getting awfully puff, his voice broken by static.

“You should really get some sleep,” she says, stepping out.

He sighs forcefully, as if to ask her to stop. “I can’t.”

She nods. “It’s hard for me to sleep, too.”

“I can’t help but feel like my body is going to sleepwalk without me knowing.”

“I don’t think it would.” She smirks but it doesn’t comfort him. “I take rounds around the castle sometimes. I would notice if you’re a zombie.”

His lips quiver, and he squeezes the handle as if to snap it on purpose. He doesn’t. Terra turns to her but stares hard at the floor. In a voice so quiet that he sounds like a small boy, he asks, “Can you stay with me tonight?”

Her heart jumps, trying to wretch itself out of her chest. “Terra?”

“I want to sleep. I can’t. I think it would be easier if…” He fiddles with the door handle, a shy boy unable to speak. “If you were with me.”

Aqua smiles. He’s braver than her for asking. “I’d feel safer behind a locked door. Come in.”

On her desk is her sewing machine, the pattern of his new robe designed, his measurements already taken, the fabric put together in pins and ready to be weaved with thread.

But there is a mirror in her room, and when Terra enters, he stops in his place.

“I’m sorry,” she says, moving to pull one of her bedsheets to cover it.

“It’s fine,” Terra says, but she’s too fast, balancing out the coverage. He slouches on her chair and leans back with a grunt. His fair falls behind him like a cascade. It’s always been wonderfully thick and dark. Aqua indulges this time, brushing it with her fingers, tempted to braid it. He audibly relaxes, and says, “Riku told me what happened in the Graveyard.”

Aqua swallows. “What did he say?”

“How Roxas and Lea reacted.” He gets quieter the more he speaks, words slipping into weak whispers. “To me.” Tears drip out of his eyes, running to his ears and down his neck. He sniffs. “Xion is terrified of me and I don’t know how to live with myself.”

“It’s not your fault, Terra,” she says softly, lightly rubbing his scalp when she sweeps his glorious hair, brown and silver like silk on her skin. It soothes him.

“Kairi said the same.”

“Kairi is wise.”

“She wants to find a way to get us all together.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Aqua says, and he groans. “Let me figure out how to set that up. I’ll coordinate with her.”

“I don’t think that will end well.”

“We should try. We all have things in common and have faced similar hardships. We need each other as friends.”

“But look at me.”

She does. He’s beautiful. “I’m looking.”

“What am I going to do?” Terra has always been too sensitive for his own good. Aqua thinks about who she’d possibly call to help me. “They’ll never talk to me.”

“You’re already trying your best.”

“Aqua, I’ve been a beast since I’ve been home.” He rubs his thumb and fingers together. A body that fails him.

“Terra, please, you’re fine the way you are.”

“Two more grandfather clocks under my belt and all the vegetables in the garden in my pocket,” he reminds her.

“Let’s try one more time,” she says, taking his hand. “I think if you could outwin your powers, you’d feel better.”

“Your room is too immaculate for me to mess with.”

“Not my room. On me.”

“Why would I do that?” Terra stands up.

“I think if there’s a parameter that you’re forced to work under, you’d improve the way you want to.”

Terra pauses. “And put you in danger?”

“If that’s what’s going to work.”

“I care too much about you to do that.”

“I know you love me,” Aqua says, startling herself. She shouldn’t have said that, especially now that he’s staring at her wide-eyed—but they’re best friends. Of course he loves her. Of course it’s the most natural thing to say. There’s not much more to imply. “You won’t hurt me.”

“Intentionally,” his voice croaks, looking everywhere around the room except at Aqua.

“What do you want out of your training, Terra?”

“I want to feel less like a freak.”

“Here I am.” She widens her arms. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“What if I fling you out the window like a rag doll?”

“You won’t.” Now she’s nervous he will.

“Or burst your skull open?”

“Then don’t.” Aqua swallows.

Terra sighs and runs a hand through his hair, the silver glistening from the light of her ceiling lamp.

“Be gentle,” Aqua suggests.

Terra hesitates, one step too far behind necessary confidence. She takes both of his hands in hers, and he gives her a feathered squeeze in return.

“Promise me you won’t break,” he says.

“Promise you won’t break me.”

He blinks back tears when he holds her waist, his hands a hearth through her thin shirt. He’s about to pick her up but he lets her go instead, intentionally widening his hands as if pulling strings. As though gravity has shut off, the air around her loses all weight. Her feet lift off the carpet and she’s suspended above her dresser, her limbs moving slowly as though she’s underwater. Terra trembles from so much concentration. He’s worried, delicate with her, lifting her up like a cloud drifting over a mountain, her desk distant like it’s inside a doll house, her bed too small for a body to sleep in.

She gasps. “Wow.”

Terra wrestles with a smile but every muscle is engaged as though he’s picking up a boulder.

“You’re doing wonderful,” she says. When he looks up at her, he cries. “Now put me down. Gently.”

It’s like she’s asking him to drop that boulder, all collateral be damned. He groans, a vein throbbing on his forehead. He’s hesitant at first but he exhausts when he finally relaxes. The threads that hold her snap. Aqua falls. Terra catches her by her bare thighs.

“You did so well,” she whispers, holding onto his shoulders. Dust collects on the top of her door frame that she’d never notice otherwise. “You’re so tall,” she laughs.

He sighs. “I’m so tired.”

“Oh, you can put me down.”

His arms stutter when he slides her off him, and he plops onto her mattress, the adrenaline making him tremble. But he smiles. That’s the most Aqua could ask for, and yet that’s the thing, for some reason, that unplugs the dam.

“I know what it’s like,” she starts, resting a hand on his head. “I wish it never happened. I wish I didn’t have to meet Xemnas, or that I fell into Darkness. Or that anyone hurt you. We wasted all those years.”

“Don’t say that,” he says softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You came back the same and you can redo all that time. Enjoy it.”

“But you?”

Terra sighs. He’s aged. He lays on her mattress, knees sliding off the edge and feet firm on the floor. “I’m okay. I’ve made my peace.”

When she settles next to him, she has to curl her legs in, fitting right into his side, her head on his shoulder. She relaxes to the way he strokes her hair. Peace shouldn’t have to be made. It shouldn’t be bargained for, it shouldn’t be difficult to win in a twisted game. But it is for most people, isn’t it? It is for anyone who’s been betrayed, who has suffered misfortune, who has been robbed or tortured, who has been fractured into pieces with no reason to justify it.

Terra and Aqua have kissed before out of curiosity, years ago. It left her wanting more. And the wanting has led to yearning. And the yearning lingered on, Aqua choosing to wait for the right moment, for the right hour, for the right occasion, letting it all slip her by each and every time for the most mundane reasons. Terra and Aqua have napped together in the woods, in the shade of a tree after hours of sparring, shoulder to shoulder, one of them promising to wake the other before they’re late for their lessons.

“If I ever get up in the middle of the night...” Terra starts.

“Where is this conversation going?”

“And I’m not actually awake—”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“—and I’m walking around like a zombie—”

“Pfft.”

“—please hit me as hard as you can.”

Aqua chuckles. This shouldn’t be a joke at all and yet what else is there left for them to do? “As you wish.”

“Promise me you’ll wake me up. No matter what.”

“Of course.” Aqua nuzzles her face into his shoulder, feeling the way his pec curves over rock-hard muscle. “Always.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They’re in the study, where some of the most outdated books in the castle find their home, for decoration more than anything.

Terra has new suspenders and hakama pants. The robe she’s designed for him, ivory with rust-colored trim, has one proper sleeve. The other is more of an open cape that curls under his armored arm, pinning at his shoulder like a shawl, made to show off the metal, burgundy and shiny. He’s elegant, tall and intimidating, respectable and warm.

“I love it,” he says.

“You almost look like the Master,” Aqua says.

“Do you think he would have liked it?”

“I think he would have been proud.”

Ven knocks on the door frame, holding up an Okay gesture. “Nice getup.”

Terra smirks. “It makes me look less scary.”

“Are you going to throw away the black cloak?”

Aqua flinches, pinching the robe and straightening it, though not because it needs it.

“I’m still thinking about it,” Terra says. “It depends on how today goes.”

“Speaking of,” Ven says, and Aqua sighs. “Aqua, he’s here.”

As though all breath has been sucked out of the air, they fall quiet. The crackle of the fireplace snaps.

“You doing okay?” she whispers to Terra.

He nods, but his skin turns green.

“Just relax and get comfortable,” she says.

Ven follows Aqua to the entrance hall, where their guest has welcomed himself inside. Isa stands with a poise that demands to be matched with a level of professionalism. Aqua crosses her hands together and keeps them to herself.

“Thank you for coming,” she says. When she messaged him to be a mediator, she wasn’t sure what to expect. Lea and Isa may seem to be opposite but they are two peas in a pod that way. Lea is a book of riddles, one page contradicting its own backside depending on which version of him shows up that day. Isa’s book is blank.

“I appreciate your invitation,” Isa says, though an instinctual tick deep in her stomach tells her that appreciation was a difficult word for him to use.

“Hey there.” Ven waves.

Isa raises his eyebrows. “Hello, Ventus,” he says… and nothing else.

Ven glances at Aqua and blares a tight, awkward smile. “Okay. Well. I’ll leave you to it.”

After Ven leaves, Isa breathes, like he’s been holding it. “I suppose the rest of this visit will be similar.” The grin on his face is sudden whiplash for Aqua, his strict posture now with blurred edges.

“In what way?” Aqua can’t quit the habit of letting go of her hands.

“Roxas usually wears a scowl. To see the same face greet me so warmly, it was quite the surprise.”

“Ah.”

“But a welcomed one.” His intense green eyes drill a hole into her. “Believe me when I say that I’m more than happy to come here and see him for myself, though it puts me in a fickle position with my family.”

Aqua brings her hands to her heart. “I think Sora would want us all to get along.”

“If that’s the angle you want to approach this with, I’d say you have a moderate chance of convincing them.”

She nods and leads the way. “He’s excited to meet you.”

Isa doesn’t reply. Terra is waiting on one of the lounge chairs in the study, telekinetically spinning pages on a book floating in front of him. He snatches the book as they approach him, and drops it on a nearby desk.

Terra doesn’t say anything. Neither does Isa, who sits himself on a comfortable chair opposite and crosses his legs. Aqua, not knowing where to go or what to do with her hands, stands by Terra. She’s hoping for an amicable meeting, anticipating an interrogation.

Isa smirks and it’s not exactly inviting. “Shall we skip the pleasantries?”

Terra nods like a dog scolded. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says with a shaky voice.

Isa hums, interlacing his fingers as he stares—rather studies Terra with scrutiny. “Do you remember me?”

Terra shakes his head, choking on a cough. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Are you certain?”

“I know of you.”

“What do you know of me?”

“You’re with Lea.” Terra licks his lips and balls his hands into fists. He only gets this way when he’s being tested, when he wants to get every answer correct. “You’ve had a complicated history with Organization XIII.”

“Complicated,” Isa repeats.

“You were a Nobody.”

Isa smirks coldly, much like how Aqua would have imagined from the stories she’s heard about Saïx. “We were brethren.”

Terra hangs his head. “I don’t know much else.”

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. I resigned. It was so painful not to. I was nowhere. Nothing to have, nothing to see, nothing to hear. I waited for an opportunity for it to stop hurting—” Terra croaks. “And I woke up.”

Isa uncrosses his legs and anchors his elbows onto his knees, cupping his chin into his hands. “You’ve no memory of the command to manipulate Sora into vanquishing Heartless for us?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“To gather enough energy to summon Kingdom Hearts.”

“That doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Isa sighs, and Aqua swears it sounds like anticipation. “And the scar on my face?”

The way Isa asks demands an explanation, and Terra—sweet, sensitive Terra, whose eyes grow hollow—can’t handle the implication.

“No. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He grits his teeth, staring at the armrest. Aqua stops herself from speaking and holds his shoulder. There isn’t anything for Terra to be sorry for.

Isa closes his eyes, trembling. After a moment, he jams his thumbs into his eyes and stills, silence befalling all of them, settling among the gentle presence of the fire and the movement of the clouds outside.

When Isa sits up, eyes glassy but kept together, he summons a smile. Softly, he says, “You look nothing like him.”

Terra, at a loss for words, nods meekly. “Did you keep it? The black cloak?”

“Of course not.” Isa scoffs. “We burned ours.”

Terra offers no condolences or congratulations. He smiles, exhausted.

Isa stands up. “Please don’t tell me you enjoy white wine with red velvet confections.”

Terra recoils, popping into a laugh as though he’s cracked under the pressure. “That sounds like it tastes awful. I don’t drink. I don’t like losing control of my body.”

The sound of Terra’s laugh shocks Isa. “Sensible.” He addresses Aqua with a look. “I must go. This has been… rather cathartic, and I’d prefer to release it in private.”

Terra bolts out of his chair, reaching out to cradle one of Isa’s hands in both of his.

“Thank you,” Terra says, and though Aqua is behind him, she could hear the tears. “Please come back whenever you feel comfortable. I’d love to have your company.”

Isa nods, turning over his shoulder for the door.

The abrupt exit leaves Terra pleading Aqua with his eyes. “Did I say something wrong?” he whispers, slapping his forehead. “I couldn’t honor his experiences. I should have figured out a way to remember.”

“That’s not your burden to bear. It wouldn’t help you anyway,” she whispers back, gently gripping his elbow. “I’ll be back.”

Aqua trails Isa back downstairs, skipping steps. It’s as though he’s in a hurry to get back home.

“Isa,” she calls. When he stops, she almost trips on herself. Her hands return to their crossover position. Something about Isa makes her so self-conscious, it’s indescribable how he can unravel her like this. “I wanted to thank you again for taking the time to come here.”

His eyes are pink. “I will tell the others there is nothing to fear.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Lea is unbearably stubborn, but he is intelligent. He already knows Terra is not to be blamed. He simply hasn’t buried his demons yet and that is his responsibility.”

Aqua sighs, relieved. “I needed to hear that.”

Isa doesn’t smile. Instead, he traces a finger across the X-shaped scar over his nose. “Terra and I are forced to face our mistakes in the mirror for as long as we breathe. If we are ever to forge a new life from the ashes, we would need to throw our transgressions into a pyre.”

“I think your presence makes him feel less alone.”

“I want to apologize, Master Aqua.��

“For what?”

Isa considers his words. “Lea and I have lost so much of our youth to a worthless cause. It is not natural for us to enjoy freedom. We expect a harsher punishment to catch up to us any day now, to steal more time from us. Perhaps we deserve to live in fear of that every day. I certainly do.” He watches her. “I can see the story you’ve endured this past decade in your eyes. It’s horrific.”

Aqua stays quiet.

“And Terra,” he continues. “He will age and die long before you and Ventus. I’m so sorry for that. The rubble we’re left with, it is such a weight for us to bear.”

She wipes a tear from her cheek, too proud to let them continue. “That’s why we need to make the best of it.”

Isa smiles; this time it’s warm. He holds her bicep. “I agree.”

“Will you and the others join us for dinner? Terra speaks for all of us, we’d love to have you around.”

“Bribe Lea with an extravagant experience and he will surely say yes. The children will follow once we assure them.”

Aqua nearly jumps to hug him but she keeps herself composed. Instead, she bows to him. His eyes pulse open.

“That was not necessary,” he says.

“You need to understand how deeply I appreciate this.”

“Lea was right. You old-fashioned wielders are certainly an odd bunch.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On her way back to the study, Aqua breaks into a sprint, desperate to fly so she could get to him as fast as possible, see his face when she delivers the news.

Terra sulks by a window. Before he could say anything, Aqua jumps and throws her arms around his neck in a clash of grunts, her legs dangling.

“They’re going to join us for dinner,” she says. She can’t tell if she’s the one who’s trembling or if it’s Terra. Because her arms are wrapped around his neck, she drags him down with her when he relaxes. He rests his forehead on hers as he leans over her, his hair falling around her like a curtain.

“Stars,” he whispers. “It’s happening?”

She smiles into his cheek. “He wants to bring everyone with him.”

He squeezes her by the small of her back. “We’ll have to invite the others too. Riku and Kairi. Naminé. It will be a feast.”

At the sound of his own words, Terra straightens out, and their fleeting moment of excitement vanishes as quick as it graces them. He nervously clutches a handful of his hair. “Wait, how soon are they coming?”

“Is something wrong?”

“I want to wear it in a ponytail.” He brushes his hair up, exposing the silver near the scalp. “Do you think it’s possible to dye it?”

That’s what makes him so insecure? Aqua stands on her toes to fiddle with the hair. “Come on. It’s a little tedious, but it can be done.”

Aqua snips the necessary plants from the garden, and after grinding them, she dumps the blend into a mix of water and animal fat. Terra slips his robe off and bends over the kitchen sink, letting her sweep the dye with a paintbrush and pinch it across the strands of his long hair with gloved hands. This is the tedious part, separating his hair into thin chunks and being diligent enough to leave nothing untouched.

“It won’t last for long, right?” he asks, shifting his weight.

“I can find a spell to seal it and make it last longer.” She nudges him to turn his neck over so she can work the other side. In this direction, he can look up at her.

“This feels like I’m cheating.”

“I think we all cheated. We all came back by some star’s blessing.”

Terra frowns. “When Isa wanted to know if I remembered anything, I felt like I was playing a rigged game. Like I had gotten away with it so easily when he’s stuck with them on his own.”

“Bend your neck forward,” she says, and he follows so she could brush the dye into the back of the scalp. “Well, Isa doesn’t blame you and no one should. And you do get away with certain things.”

Terra flinches but she keeps her hold on him. “Like what?”

Aqua pinches more of the dye into the hair at the neck, wrapping a towel around his shoulders. He will have to pass the time needed for the color to sink in. She can’t wait until he sees it for himself in the mirror. She can’t wait until he smiles more, until he can walk with seeded confidence.

“You can stand up,” she tells him, instructing him that it will take almost an hour for the dye to settle. She pulls out her gloves and considers an answer to his question. “You get away with what you say sometimes.”

Terra gapes. “Did I offend you?”

“No.” She smirks. This has never been the way she daydreamed it would go—she had prepared a scenario where they would talk about it under the stars in a clear night, in the spring where the flowers have blossomed. Not with yet another shirt that they’ll have to replace.“You told me you loved me that day in the Graveyard.” He doesn’t flinch. “And you don’t remember saying that either.”

The bowl of dye rattles and Aqua catches it from falling over, spilling the excess into the sink and rinsing it. “Terra?”

“Uh.” The cupboards shake as if about to spill open. Terra grabs the knife block and throws it into the fridge, just in case. “Well.” He splays his hand over the handle and burns it with a fire spell, molding the metal together so it can’t burst open. “I’ll fix that later. Um. It’s—” He tips over the fruit bowl so nothing will fly out in different directions. He can’t look her in the face, taking deep breaths. “I mean. It’s not—it’s not a lie.”

Aqua waits a moment, afraid another word is going to make the oven explode. “I should have told you the same.” She bites her lip.

“What are you saying?” The burner grates of the stovetop blow up and hit the cupboard over it. “All this time, I could have known?”

“Maybe you should have done something about it.”

“I’ve been driving myself crazy wondering how you felt. Ever since we came back home.”

“And you said nothing?”

Terra stares at her. “You know what—I’m not protecting you from the oranges.”

“What are you doing?” She chuckles.

He flips the bowl back and waves his arm, five oranges punching her on the arm that she’s using to shield herself.

“Terra!”

She stumbles as the oranges bounce back from the floor and arc over to hit her again. Terra squeezes his fists and the oranges unpeel themselves, sputtering juice all over her face, a tart taste filling her mouth.

Aqua laughs and runs into the dining room, ducking behind the table.

“Get back here,” Terra calls. He rushes into the dining room, clumsy enough to be caught off guard when she charges at him.

Aqua has to jump higher, kicking off his chest to flip over. The goal is to slam her foot across his face—the best sparring trick in her arsenal. Terra catches her by the ankle but his balance is tested when she bends her knee to throw him off. He’s stronger, a tight grip on her calf. They both fall onto his back, a tower broken in two and collapsing on itself.

Aqua rests her head between his chest, giggling so much that her chin digs into his thorax.

Terra groans, his soaked hair leaving brown tracks over the tile. “You got some on you.” He rubs a thumb on her temple where it meets the base of her hair. “Hmm, you’d look good as a brunette.”

“In your wildest dreams.”

“If one can come true, then you never know.”

Aqua holds herself up on her elbows. Terra is so large, he’s a mattress in the middle of the dining room floor. Streaks of dye draw across his cheek. They leave what look like slashes across his neck. It’s going to take some scrubbing power to remove them. She sweeps some of the hair off, not caring about the stain it leaves on her fingers.

The next move is natural. A touch of lips to lips, careful and giddy, puckered and softer than she expects, two hands on her back and a powerful jaw under the grace of her fingertips.

Ven opens the door and gags. “Ugh, all the stars in hell, could you do that in your room?” He turns on his heel and stomps off. “I’m too young for this.”

Aqua snorts into Terra’s mouth and he spits. “I’m sorry,” she says.

Terra licks his lips of juice. He leans up for more. “You taste tangy.”

#terraqua #terraqua week #aqua #terra #ventus #isa #AHHHHH IT'S THE START OF THE NEW WEEK #I wish i had more time for this one #but I hope you all like it ;-;#my fic

30 notes · View notes

tyrustrash · 5 years ago

Text

Spider-Kippen

It feels like a Mariah Carey song as TJ and Cyrus walk out of the movie theatre, so many emotions. TJ’s face is a mix of frustration and sadness, even if it seems impossible to feel those two emotions at the same time. Cyrus keeps a poker face as he eats from the popcorn bucket TJ is holding. Cyrus finally takes a look at his boyfriend for the first since since leaving the theatre. He had never seen him this worked up, not even when the whole student trial event was completely pointless. Along with a few tears building up, TJ’s face contains a scrunched up nose and mouth combination that might cause wrinkles, along with a few tears building up. Who knew the new Spider-Man movie could have this effect on someone. Sure, it’s a fantastic movie that knows how to pull all the emotional strings one has, but all at the same time? That’s next level artwork. As Cyrus’ hand reaches out for another handful of popcorn, TJ went through the ending of the movie again and slammed the bucket down. The popcorn managed to form a circle around them. Both boys stopped in their place. Onlookers took note, but kept moving along. TJ shook his head as if he was both in denial and shock. His overreactions and expressions, also paired with his level of shooketh, could make people think that he’s been watching too many Shane Dawson videos. He has, but that’s not the issue at hand. “I can’t believe it.” TJ says softly, barely audible. He holds his hands to the middle of his chest. They’re shaking a little. Open hands slowly turn to fists and he slams them on the top part of his legs. “The audacity of it all! Peter is such a sweet and soft boy that deserves the world! AAAAAHHHH!” More onlookers noticed and stopped to stare. TJ attempts to buff up to scare them off, but he’s such a soft boy like Peter Parker that it comes off as more adorable than threatening. Knowing that he wasn’t going to do anything, the people went on their way, but make comments. Cyrus steps in front of his boyfriend. He takes ahold of his head with one hand and turns it so that they are making eye contact. With the other hand, he caresses the left side. Starting at his hair, maneuvering behind the ear, then down the jawline reaching his chin. From where they’re standing, the shade from the ceiling covers half of TJ’s face. The other half is brightened from the sun. His hair flows like flowers in a field because of the slight breeze. His outfit consists of tight jeans, a leather jacket, and a plain white shirt. Combine all of that with the facial expressions and you have a contender of a cover model for one of those fragrance commercials. Cyrus caresses his face again. He smiles a little and he leans in closer. “TJ, first of all, I do not appreciate that you dropped the popcorn. It costs four dollars and fifty-eight cents and I wasn’t finished yet. Second, calm down, baby. It’s just movie.” All TJ manages to do is gasp his lungs out. His face stands frozen for a second. He looks his boyfriend up and down, as if examining him to make sure he’s alright. “Blasphemy! It is not just a movie, it is Marvel!” “Do you hear yourself?” “Yes I do. And Spider-Man is my favorite superhero of all time and will be until the dawn of infinity, war. And Tom Holland is bae, change my mind. No, wait, you can’t. Him and I are endgame.” Placing a hand on his hip, and shifting his weight on one side, Cyrus checks out TJ from head to toe. “What about us? I thought we are endgame? Remember what happened on the bench?” TJ rubs the back of his neck. His cheeks turn red. “I love you, Underdog. You know what I mean. My celebrity endgame that I know will never happen, but I can dream. But it doesn’t matter because you’re all that I need. You’re my real endgame and the love of my life. You’re the peanut butter to my jelly. The Power to my Ranger. The Kool to my Aid.” “Awe.” Cyrus leans in closer and gives a soft kiss on TJ’s cheek. TJ blinks rapidly as he blushes harder. “And you’re the ice to my cream. Speaking of which, you promised ice cream at your place at the movie.” “Let’s get going then.” At TJ’s house, the boys are on the kitchen. A mess that they know would get them in trouble is covering the counter. Chocolate sauce, sprinkles, bits of melted ice cream, and cherry stems make up the majority of the mess. They didn’t have intentions of cleaning it now because they just wanted to eat and spend time together. However, they had to clean it before TJ’s parents come home or else they wouldn’t be able to hang out for a week. They shrug their shoulders and put those thoughts at the back of their mind. Upstairs, they enter TJ’s room. Cyrus takes the swivel desk chair. TJ climbs to the top bunk of his bunk bed. He has had this bed since he was five. Although he doesn’t have any siblings to share it with, he pitched a fit for it and never outgrew it. He enjoys feeling on top of the world and liked to hang off the side. Obviously he would secure himself on the railings. Falling off and injuring himself would cause Cyrus to enter a panicked state that TJ hates to see. Taking a bite of the blueberry ice cream, Cyrus spins himself in the chair. He spins and kicks off to the center of the room. He lands center of the left side of the bunk bed. Even though he has been here before, Cyrus just noticed all the Spider-Man items. The bedsheets, pillow case, plush dolls of the hero, and even LEGO sets. “You really love Spider-Man.” TJ eats some of his lemon ice cream and nods. “Have been since I was a kid.” He looks around his room, feeling down all of a sudden. “You must think I’m such a dork.” Cyrus shakes his head, nearly causing whiplash. He stands up and sets the bowl on the bedside table. He approached the rail and grabs ahold of it. “Never. I think it’s awesome that you’re passionate about something.” “You know what else I’m passionate about?” “What?” TJ adjusts himself so now he’s lying on his stomach. He props his head up on his hands, then bopping Cyrus on the nose. “You.” This time Cyrus is the one blushing. “And,” TJ continues. “I want to try something with you.” “What is it?” TJ moves closer to the edge. Grabbing the railing, TJ turns around and throws the top half of his body over, causing Cyrus to gasp and look away in fear. Cyrus looks back at his boyfriend and sighs in relief. TJ has his knees locked on the railing as he hangs down from the top bunk. “I want to try the kiss from the original movies.” “Could’ve said so before nearly giving me a heart attack.” Cyrus says as he tries to get his breathing back on track. “Sorry, I was really excited.” Cyrus moves in and is directly in front of TJ’s upside down face. Both are smiling and laughing like they were being tickled. Cyrus couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing TJ looks like this. His hair gravitating down looks like grass, but better. The leather jacket he’s wearing is attempting to fall off. However, his shirt stays in place because it’s tucked into his jeans. The sun shines through the window and radiates a ring of light surrounding TJ’s body. He looks golden. Perfect description of who TJ Kippen really is. TJ holds out his hands and grabs both sides of Cyrus’ face, pulling him in even closer to the pint their noses are touching. They close their eyes and adjust their faces. Now, lips are touching. They kiss longer than they have before. This time feels different. In a good way. More passionate and soft at the same time. The sun shines harder causing the light to warm their bodies. They run their hands through each other’s hair, somehow soothing whatever nerves they had. Pulling away, their smiles softened, but were still strong. TJ kicks off and flips off the bed. He holds Cyrus’ face. Cyrus holds his. At the same time, they manage to say the same thing. “I love you 3000.”

#andi mack #tyrus #fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

toonsforkicks22 · 6 years ago

Text

The Heart that Smarts (Unikitty! fic)

WARNING: Slight Lego Movie 2 spoilers in this!

_________

CRASH!

The beaker hit the floor, covering it of glass shards and possibly radioactive slime. The one responsible for the mess didn’t even flinch, nor even noticed as a couple of robots arrived on the scene to clean it up.

Dr. Fox stared into space, her green eyes filling the specs of her glasses as it all began to dawn on her. The realization hit her like that meteor she theorized had been made of gumball. (1) However, unlike that, the vixen knew she was certainly not wrong about this.

“I’m in love with him...” she murmured to herself, failing to notice the two robots behind her trying to fight off a giant green tentacle emerging from the floor as caused by the spilled chemical contents.

“We got a situation here!” one of them cried, trying to beat the abomination away with a broom.

“Oh, man, this is so gross!” the other exclaimed, entangled by said tentacle.

Once again, Dr Fox didn’t even hear them. Her mind drifted to all the possible ways she could have figured these feelings out sooner.

Hawkodile, the embodiment of strength, kindness, and especially friendship. And she was in love with her best friend!

“How could I not have figured this out sooner?” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, squeezing her cheeks in an ecstatic grin while her lab was falling apart behind her.

While more robots fought and attacked the now growing tentacle monster with every weapon they had, the female fox reflected on every memory that gave her a reason for these sudden feelings.

He always put his life on the line for his friends, especially for her.

He fought a videogame platform in order to rescue her (and didn’t seem the least bit mad as Richard when it was revealed to be just a simulation for just in case they really did get attacked by actual game characters). (2)

Whenever she was tired or sick, he would always offer a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder (or her mouth in case she was on the verge of puking).

He would drop his seriousness to have fun with her and the others. And take pride in being dorky and adorable about it (or ‘adorkable’ as Dr. Fox liked to use sometimes).

He would do anything to impress his friends and make himself worthy, even if it was obviously unnecessary. She still remembered when he impersonated a robot and would have gotten himself killed by her combat machine if she hadn’t intervened. (3)

And out of any of them, Hawkodile seemed to always turn to Dr. Fox for aid. She recalled that one time when his sparkle matters were getting out of control on account of having a secret crush. (4) Or maybe she might have thrown herself into assisting him since it was all for science and saving her best friend, she wasn’t sure. But all the genius knew was that Hawkodile’s crush on whoever was over (she couldn’t remember if it had been the flower store owner FeeBee or someone else in the Unikingdom). Guess he and that person he used to crush on just didn’t work.

But she and Hawkodile, they were the perfect team! And Dr. Fox was already deliberating how they would become the perfect couple!

“I love him!” she cried, practically deaf to the ongoing explosions of the lab as the robot servants stressed an ongoing battle with the monster.

“Fire the torpedoes!” one of them shouted.

Emitting a girlish scream, Dr. Fox danced out of her lab, leaving behind a larger mess for the servants to clean up. _____

Upon realizing these newfound feelings, Dr. Fox spread her news across the kingdom. She wanted to tell everyone that she was in love with her best friend, before eventually telling Hawkodile. She wanted to prepare the entire universe for their love!

At the flower shop, FeeBee was just arranging vase of flowers she just picked. Just as they were looking perfect, the décor popped right at her face, along with Dr. Fox’s wide-eyed expression.

“I’m in love with him!” Dr. Fox cried, receiving a rather terrified smile and nod from FeeBee. ~

Craig the moose farmer (5) watched as her vegetables were on the verge of growing. She grinned from antler to antler as all her hard work was finally going to pay off.

“Almost there!” she encouraged lovingly as she saw the leaves lift, and the first patches of red were emerging. “After months of hard labor, I’ll finally grow the perfect tomatoes!”

As said vegetables began to form at her anticipation, they met an unexpected end. Craig’s smile fell instantly as “homemade ketchup” splattered all over her face, leaving behind the remains of what could have been a beautiful creation.

Face pale, she could only stare at Dr. Fox, who hardly even noticed her tiny feet had been responsible. The latter just grinned at the now distressed moose farmer.

“I’m in love with him!” the scientist cried.

As she dashed off, the farmer fell to her knees and screamed at the sky demanding why it had to happen to the tomatoes and not her.

Bim-bom gazed at a store that was selling delicious sandwiches, practically drooling at the sight. Just as she was about to make the choice of having all the choices, she nearly screamed as Dr. Fox slammed her face against the glass from the inside.

“I’m in love with him!” the vixen exclaimed happily, eyes sparkling as much as they did back at the lab.

“Oh, honey, that’s great!” the green garbage bag (or possibly a dumpling) congratulated. (6) “You go after your love! I should know! Because, uh...”

Her beady eyes quickly shifted left and right before they stopped in a certain direction.

“There’s the guy I’m in love with too!” Bim-bom exclaimed, pointing toward the first person she spotted.

Across the street was Toaster, who stopped the moment he noticed Bim-bom was gesturing his way. Toast immediately popped up from his brother’s head, wondering what was going on. (7)

“Wait, what?” the slice of tan bread questioned aloud.

“Uh, which one?” Dr. Fox asked in confusion.

Bim-bom’s mind wracked nervously. “Um, uh...both of them!” she exclaimed.

Toast and Toaster just stared at her.

“Wait, what is she talking abo-AAAAAHHHH!”

The Toast Bros quickly high-tailed it in the other direction as Bim-bom began to chase them.

“Don’t be embarrassed!” the desperate-for-love woman cried. “I love you both equally! We can make this work!” ~

In their apartment, Brock and Master Frown sat on the couch, watching TV. Suddenly from beneath the cushions popped out Dr. Fox, startling Master Frown, not so much Brock who merely smiled in greeting.

“I’m in love with him!” Dr. Fox exclaimed, not caring that she was admitting this to the person that strove to cause misery throughout the kingdom.

“Gross!” Master Frown scoffed in disgust.

“Oh, dude!” Brock exclaimed with genuine happiness for his friend. “Congratulations! Who’s the lucky dude?”

“Hawkodile!” the genius vixen announced, her sparkle matter increasing and littering the apartment much to Master Frown’s annoyance.

“Sweet!” the laid-back gray figure said.

“Love is a suckers’ bet for suckers!” Master Frown spat. “It ain’t gonna work!”

“Dude, not cool!” Brock scolded him.

But Dr. Fox didn’t even hear the maker of misery, her thoughts for the guy she was in love with screamed louder. _______

Returning to the castle, Dr. Fox was still as energetic as she had been throughout the kingdom. The moment she bursted through the doors, they slammed right into Richard who had been carrying dishes. Every single plate hit the floor, making more work for the floating brick. He merely sighed, adding the task of ordering new dishes on his list.

“Hello, Dr. Fox,” he spoke in his usual monotone. “You seem to be in some kind of mood, according to what the citizens have been reporting out of fear and concern for their lives.”

“Oh, it’s more than just a mood!” the vixen exclaimed as she gave a little twirl.

Unikitty and Puppycorn approached them, having heard the noise from the other room.

“What’s going on?” the dog prince asked curiously.

“Yeah, you seem even happier than you usually are, Dr. Fox,” the ruler of the Unikingdom noted. “Nearly as happy as me, and I’m always super happy!”

“Guys!” Dr. Fox expressed excitedly. “I’m in love with Hawkodile!”

Both Unikitty and Puppycorn gasped in amazement, sparkle matter sprinkling from their heads like confetti. They gazed at the kingdom’s scientist, overcome with as much surprise and joy as she had been expressing the entire time. Richard did not share in the elation like he usually did with anything in general. However, his usually sullen expression altered a bit, his brows knitting in concern.

“That’s great!” Unikitty squealed, engulfing Dr. Fox in a hug.

“When are you gonna tell him?” Puppycorn asked, bouncing excitedly.

“Right now!” the genius vixen declared.

“Dr. Fox, I don’t think that would be such a great idea right now,” the brick tried to reason gently.

“Oh, nonsense!” the scientist brushed off. “When have any of my ideas ever been not great?”

Richard gave her his usual taciturn expression, not bothering to answer that.

As she marched to find the man responsible for these lovey-dovey feelings, the royal siblings followed in pursuit, giggling and laughing along with their fox friend. Richard strayed behind, the look of uncertainty never leaving his face. ______

As they headed toward Hawkodile’s dojo, Dr. Fox chattered about all the things she and the bodyguard would do once she confessed her feelings and they became a couple.

“...and after we go to dinner and see a movie, I’ll build us a rocket that’ll send us over the moon!” she added. “It’s scientifically possible!”

“How romantic!” Unikitty said in awe, heart-shaped sparkle matter popping from her head matching the same as the one coming from her eyes.

“Dr. Fox, I really think this isn’t the best time right now,” Richard, once again, tried to reason with her.

“Of course it’s the best time!” Unikitty argued with him. “How could it not be the best time? Our friend Dr. Fox is in love with our friend Hawkodile! What’s the problem with that?”

Before Richard could respond, she pressed against him as she swooned at the thought of the event that was yet to unfold.

“Because there is no problem!” she said with a dreamy sigh. “The two were meant for each other, and most definitely nothing could stand in their way of love!”

Richard sighed. “Look, Dr. Fox, you have to understand-”

But the scientist ignored him once again. Her orange cheeks blushed like the tomatoes she stepped on earlier. Nearing the flaps of the tent-like dojo where their bodyguard friend spent most of his time, she bit her lip to contain another squeal. The others rallied behind her, Richard still looking worried.

“Go for it, Dr. Fox!” Unikitty encouraged.

“Yeah, go for it!” Puppycorn rooted.

“I really, really think this is not a good time right now...” Richard tried to convince to no avail.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Dr. Fox bursted into the dojo, her green eyes bright as the shades of the wonderful guy she was about to confess her feelings for.

“Hawkodile, I have something to tell you!” she said with euphoria.

However, the smile that once shined throughout the kingdom dropped instantly. The party behind her, who had been chanting her name beforehand, stood behind the vixen and gasped. Only Richard remained unfazed, albeit slightly guilty.

Hawkodile, having not heard his friends enter the dojo, was hunched over, arms wrapped around something that seem to clung to his ever-rippling biceps. His lips were doing quite the workout, followed by gruff moaning. Such a sound only got more heavy as he gave all his time and energy to this one moment in particular.

It wasn’t just him moaning. An equally expressive and feminine tone voiced pleasure as well, another pair of lips copying his workout.

Dr. Fox just stood there in disbelief, questioning everything in the universe right now. Behind her Unikitty and Puppycorn were unsure of what to do except just watch. Richard merely gave a defeated sigh.

Hawkodile’s wings flapped upon sensing a new presence in his dojo. He quickly adjusted his head, lips still occupied. His eyes/shades widened before quickly pulling away from whom he was having a wonderful session with.

“Oh, uh, hey!” the hybrid bodyguard greeted awkwardly, a protective arm around the person who had enjoyed what Dr. Fox had hoped would have been her moment.

She was a fair-skinned woman with wavy blonde hair, eyes a brighter green than even Dr. Fox’s. She was adorned in a pink princess-style dress complete with a matching fuchsia cape.

“Uh...” Hawkodile began shyly. “You guys remember Susan, right?”

“Hey,” the blonde woman greeted with a wave.

Before Dr. Fox could even utter a word, it was Unikitty who spoke.

“Well, of course we know Susan!” the princess exclaimed rather excitedly. “Who we thought was Queen Whatevra Wa’Nabi but actually isn’t! Who’s really nice and sweet and cute and helped us bring the Systar System and Apocalypseburg together after Armamageddon and make what is now the totally cool and totally cute place that is now Syspocalypsestar!That Susan!” (8)

Said woman gave a bashful smile as she leaned into Hawkodile, who blushed and gave a relieved chuckle. As Unikitty gushed over her, with her brother looking equally excited, no one noticed the broken expression on Dr. Fox’s face.

Except for Richard.

“Told you it wasn’t the best time,” he said, any form of smugnesshidden under his usual sullen personality. _______

NOTE: Those numbers in parenthesis you’ve seen throughout the story are citation-like thingies. Down below are explanations to those who might wonder about certain things and characters mentioned, just in case some people haven’t seen all the episodes or know any characters besides the main cast. :)

(1)From episode “Lab Cat”

(2)From episode “The Zone”

(3)From episode “Brawl Bot”

(4)From episode “Crushing Defeat”; FeeBee made a good appearance in that

(5)Craig the farmer is best recognized from the episode “Kaiju Kitty” (and yes, Craig’s a female)

(6)Bim-bom’s personality and given description is best shown in the episode “Unikitty News”

(7)Toaster and Toast can best be seen in the episode “Little Prince Puppycorn”

(8)Susan was inThe Lego Movie 2: The Second Part

#unikitty #hawkodile #hawkofox #dr fox #richard #puppycorn #master frown #brock #unikingdom #frown town #cartoon network #the lego movie #the lego movie 2 #tlm2 spoilers #cn

24 notes · View notes

sassysweetcollegegirls · 6 years ago

Text

I’ll Love you No Matter What pt3

Breakfast was Lance’s second favorite meal of the day. Second because it required him to get up and there were never any Lucky Charm’s or just straight pancakes anymore. Hunk always did his absolute best to make breakfast as close to the stuff at home as possible. Of course it was always a little off but Lance still appreciated it for all it was worth.

The door slid open and Lance takes a solid wiff of what Lance thought was waffle and eggy type.

“HUNK MY MAN. What is on the menu today?” Lance walked toward the kitchen which was literally Hunks Natural habit. Hunk stood in his usual attire his apron tied around his waist a whisk in hand a look of pure concentration on his face.

“Take one more step McClain and you will be served last.” Hunk threatened drawing the whisk up and pointing at him a yellowish goop dripping from the end.

“Woah buddy what’s with the whisk of death?” Lance wasn’t used to Hunk being so well threatening in the morning usually he was humming and swaying offering Lance the opportunity to taste his creations.

Hunk rubbed his face and set the whisk in the bowl. “I was up all morning.” His body turning soft exhausted

“Hunk your up every morning.” Lance grabbed his friends shoulders and started rubbing large circles

“I was up earlier Lance. SOMEONE on this ship was pounding on doors and running and Lions it was a mess.” Hunk waived off Lances touch and went back to his cooking,” Some of us sleep ya know.”

“Maybe we can get the Gremlin to look at the feed from the cameras she never sle—-Aaaaahhhh!” As if brought on by the pure image of her in Lances brain Pidge showed up,” CAN YOU STOP DOING THAT?” Lance shrieked putting a hand to his heart and feigning fainting.

“You realize I have no idea what your talking about right?” She yawned and rover who was snuggled into her arms blipped awkwardly. Her hair was a casual disarray and she still wore the sweats she had been put to bed in,” Also I do sleep. You all just haven’t figured out the cycles yet.”

“Thus you are a Gremlin.” Lance grumbled and she slugged him lightly letting rover go. He began to flutter busily about the room as Hunk began tidying up the kitchen, “ what am I supposed to be doing?”

“Checking the feed for who was waking Hunk up with all the yelling and running in the halls this morning. “ Lance clarified stretching he had managed to dress. Pidge was always the last of them to dress. Shiro had stopped commenting on it a long time ago and Lance had just become so accustomed to her ducking out to get dressed after breakfast it was routine now.

Hunk was busy and he looked focused so he pushed Pidge out to the dining portion of the kitchen and gathered plates on his way.

“Did you hear the yelling and running?” Lance asked?

“Me? No. I was sleeping.” Pidge said stretching her belly showing a little the skin smooth. Lance looked toward the ceiling giving her a moment of privacy. Lance had sisters back home and they had drilled into him time and time again how important the female body was. How precious it was and that you only shared it with those precious or those of the same sex.

“Give me some plates we don’t want Hunk to see us slacking. He’s in a mood.” Pidge said taking the plates from Lances chest and making a neat stack. “ I’ll do the left you do the right.”

“ I’ll bet mines prettier than yours.”

“Your dreaming again Loverboy.”

“I WILL OWN THIS PLATE SETTING COMPETITION GUNDERSON.”

“YOUR ON.”

“I swear to god if either of you break my tableware your getting fed last.” Hunk grumbled as he brought spoons and forks out to the table and rover floated out behind him with a napkin.

The room became a flurry of limbs and plates and napkins and happy sounds that meant fun. Lance was folding corners and dancing, and Pidge was trying to make the perfect angles. While hunk slid steaming plates full of food in the center rolling his eyes at the antics and slapping trying fingers out of the way.

Coran was the first to join them. He had his tablet pressed to his nose reading an article in something Lance figured was probably was Altean. He almost tripped over Rover but Lance caught him with one arm his body was heavier than he expected.

“Coran what do you eat?” Lance teased setting the older man upright.

“I eat my normal squares plus Grandpa Wembeldons additional recommended portions!! If we’re going to complain about size my dear boy aren’t you a string?” He responded quickly straighting and fixing his coat.

“I am a Normal growing boy for your information!” Lance huffed turning.

The door opened and Allura stepped in. She was radiant beautiful and glowing in ways that reminded Lance of his sisters and of his mother. His heart puttered a little thinking about Allura and his family meeting (so maybe that crush wasn’t so over yet) and Pidge snickered next to him reminding him to be human.

“Good Morning Princess!” Lance choked out as she smiled and pressed her hand to Corans shoulder.

“Coran, now is not the time to be critiquing the physique of our Paladins. Have you found anything of importance?”

“As it so happens no. I was looking for brain fuel hopping it would get the old gears cranking.” Coran offered pointing to Hunks beautiful breakfast array.

“Good Morning Lonce. Pidge I hope you slept well? “ Allura greets as everyone begins taking seats at the table trying to relax and Hunk comes out to sit.

“I for one did not sleep this morning. Was anyone else woken up by the running and screaming? Or was that just me?” Hunk heaps his plate full of egg type things and passes the plate to Coran who calmly takes a scoop and passes the plate to Allura who seem to be sharing a look.

Lance watches but doesn’t comment and instead looks to where Keith usually sits across from him,” Hey where’s Keith? He never misses breakfast.” He comments calmly. His mind goes to Keith last night how he had laughed and smiled and had been gentle and carefree and it had felt so much like home it made Lance ache long after he left and he wanted to go back to Keith. Even if it was just to sit on the floor and poke his face while he slept. (That’s fucking weird Lance friends don’t do shit like that).

“Or Shiro!” Pidge remarks looking at his designated place next to her. He seemed to be the only one capable of making her actually eat anything and not start a food fight.

“I’m right here Pidge, Lance please tell me she has at least scooped something onto the plate.” Shiro said he was standing in the door his arms crossed his eyes open a smile on his face and he looked like he was gunna head down the stairs but something was stopping him.

“Have you seen Keith?” Lance asked and he realized he couldn’t help but be hopeful. He wanted to know if he’d washed the face mask off properly or if he’d left green goo in his hair.

Shiro smiles and looked behind him and whispered something and then he looked at the group,” okay let’s do this. Everyone close their eyes.”

Everyone let out a collective groan but obeyed and Lance heard Shiro shuffle quickly into his place next to Pidge. “When I say three everyone open okay?”

“What the hell is this Shiro?” Pidge whispers angrily

“One”

“I’m confused is this someone’s birthday, whose birthday is it?” Hunks asking almost panicked

“Two”

“I’m so excited! There won’t just be two of us anymore!!!” Allura sang and there was a groan from somewhere near the door.

“Three”

Lance is slow to open because he is looking at Shiro first because this was all Shiro’s idea of course. Shiro of course has this wide smile plastered on his face and he’s holding Pidge by the shoulders. Pidge’s eyes are bigger than blues noes and Lance turns to look at the door because the room has wrapped itself in silence.

Standing in the door is probably the most beautiful girl Lance has ever seen. Her hair is jet black and laid gently down her back, she has this porcelain skin that makes him think of dolls. She’s lean but she’s fit Lance doesn’t think she would have any problem lifting against him in a contest. She looks so uncomfortable though in a short yellow dress that’s scooped showing just a bit of her clevage and a lot of legs and (are those Keith’s boots?) and violet eyes that dart around the room uncertain. She tries to hide in her bangs, Lance wants to plead with her to come out and not hide the pretty sharp angles of her face. She’s rubbing her arms like she’s cold and half crossed half not like she’s not sure where to put them her hands are tiny (are those Keith’s gloves?) and Lance wants to draw them into his and blow hot air onto them and warm them up.

“Keith it’s alright it’s just breakfast.” Shiro states as he pushes Pidge into a normal not so shocked kind of state.

“THATS KEITH?!?” Pidge shouts her hands slamming on the table and standing

“KEITH?!?” Hunk drops his fork and looks at Coran for confirmation.

Lance is oblivious he’s stuck on the cherry lips and the violet of her eyes. Would a girl like that even look at a string bean like him?

Allura is smiling,” Keith your stunning now please can you just come sit down for breakfast? And we will explain everything. Yes?”

Then she starts moving her gates a little clumsy like she’s never walked in a dress before and Lance has this urge to rush forward and carry her down the two short steps and too the table. He looks around panicked as to where she’s going to sit. The only open spot is Keith’s (Keith won’t care this one time right?) And he rushes out of his chair to go pull out hers carefully his face red and everyone looks at him funny including her.

But damned Lance if he isn’t chivalrous. Keith takes a moment to stop and look at him. Her hair is so silky up close Lance holds his breath as she slides into the chair in front of him and then he pushes her in to the table stairing at the crown of her head biting his cheek. He carefully seats himself across from her again and everyone looks at him,” What?” Lance asks.

No one says anything and Keith’s cheeks turn pinker and Hunk chokes on a bite of his breakfast at the site. He’d at least tried to return to normality. Everyone waits and Shiro clears his throat,” as you can see Keith has joined us for breakfast....” Shiro is going on about how some kind of tattoo and blah blah blah and Lance is just oblivious.

He’s watching Keith pick apart egg type things with a fork. She has one hand cupped around her cheek and the other on the fork and she’s aggressive like they’ve done a sin and they need to pay for it. Her eyes are sad like they’ve been forgotten somewhere and placed in her perfect little head just for Lance to find. Then they turn to Lance and Lance swallows.

“If a turtle doesn’t have a shell is he homeless or naked?” Lance manages his mouth is dry and his palms are sweaty but those eyes look right into his.

“Lance what the hell are you talking about?” Keith asks, and her voice is like liquid honey that Lance never knew he needed. It’s so smooth and it just drips with sarcasm and so many things Lance can’t even wrap his mind around it hurts.

He leans over to Pidge,” How does she know my name?” he asks but his eyes never leave Keith who hasn’t stopped looking at him.

“Oh. my. god. Lance No. “ Pidge smacks her palm to her face and then wraps her arm around his neck and points at Keith.

“You know that guy you mock?”

“You mean Keith?”

“Mullet, grumpy, throws knives and flies the Red Lion?”

“Don’t tell me this is his sister?”

Pidge smacks him upside the head and points at Keith again,” That’s Him.”

There is silence at the table and Lance looks at the Violet eyed angel across the table and then he peeks under the table. No one stops him. They just let him for a moment look at the legs so slender and perfect and not hairy and not encased in super tight jeans but still wearing Keith’s boots.

He returns tableside to look at Keith who is sitting with the cute little pout across her lips an eyebrow raised in question.

“What?” Lance says and Keith rolls her eyes in the most attractive way possible.

“I told you this was fucking stupid.” The honey voice claims looking to Shiro who is trying not to lose his cool.

“Lonce were you not paying attention?” Allura asked and Lance looks toward her and for some reason she doesn’t look so pretty next to Keith. She’s pretty but she makes him think of moms and soap and laundry and he’s not sure what that means yet.

“I was...”

“No he wasn’t” the honey voice of Keith again. “He was to busy staring. I TOLD YOU TO LET ME STAY IN SHIROS HOODIE BUT NO. I had to wear this stupid...” She grips at the dress angrily as if she can tear it but then she realizes that people are watching and she just sulks deeper into the chair.

“Take my sweatshirt.” Lance offers before he’s even sure what the hell hes doing. He’s got the green thing off and he’s offering it to Keith across the table.

Keith looks at it and snatches it angrily and throws it on zipping it all the way up. She pulls the hood up and then looks at Lance crossing her arms.

“Lance you do realize that is Keith right?” Pidge asks him turning lance to face her.

“Keith is a She now?”

“Yes” everyone at the table goes at once. Everyone but Keith who looks like she would rather hide in a hole than be at this discussion.

Lance takes a moment to think about the girl across from him. The salty behavior the hardcore additidude and the eyes the gloves the boots, the outbursts. It all makes sense. It doesn’t stop what comes out of his mouth though ,” About that turtle.”

“ Lance.” Shiro’s warning voice is present but Keith is chuckling and she’s covering her mouth with one of his sleeves. And it’s the most beautiful thing Lance has ever heard.

Everyone has stopped to watch Keith now who seems to be trapped in fits of laughter that don’t really make sense in the seriousness of all this. “ Freaking Lance is, asking me about Turtles after we tell him I lost my penis.”

“This is serious business Keith. IS he NAKED or HOMELESS?”

Theres a collective groan around the table and Keith just continues laughing and It’s a beautiful thing. It’s airy and soft and full of shit that makes Lance feel like he’s not even real.

“You two are officially the worst at dealing with news.” Hunk groaned pushing his now empty plate toward the center.

“I want everyone to agree that this isn’t going to move the team backwards. Until we find a solution Keith will be stuck like this. So Keith, do you prefer us to call you by female or male pronouns?” Shiro asked trying to calm everyone again and find a solution.

Keith suddenly in the spotlight for a reason other than sharing it with Lance began blushing. “ I feel like me. I know I have boobs and stuff but I feel Like Keith...So can we just do Keith? and whatever works from there?” There was a softness to the tone of her voice that everyone had to lean forward for.

“Fair enough.” Pidge claimed swiping her plate and Shiro’s despite the dirty look Shiro passed her.

“Everyone meet on the training deck in Half an hour.” Allura Sang walking backwards out the door.

“ LANCE it’s your turn to help with clean up.” Hunk said which meant he wanted to talk to Lance.

“Keith, I wanna go to your closet and see if I can help you find comfortable stuff to wear. You look like your miserable in that.” Pidge said as she went to Keith and Keith looked grateful from his place in Lance’s hood the ends of his hair poking out cutely.

“You'd do that for me?” Keith asked the honey voice soft.

“Yeah I’ll show you how to fix clothes so they fit you.” And then the two of them were gone leaving Hunk and Lance and Shiro who seemed to be looking at Lance puzzled.

“What?” Lance asked

Shiro just smiled and rubbed the back of his head before heading outside. Hunk handed Lance a pile of plates,” Dude the staring was weird.” Hunk murmured

“Do you know how pretty Keith is?” Lance hissed,” I looked at Allura and I thought about Laundry soap! Who does that?”

“Uhhh- You?”

“Right but Keith,his skin is like smooth and it looks soft, do you think it’s soft Hunk?”

“ Dude this is gunna be hard for you isn’t it?”

“Definatly.”

“I’m gunna need the first aid kit?”

“For sure.”

Hunk just sighs and Lance hands him another dish to be magically washed by the machine that washes dishes one by one. He’s got his head in the clouds thinking about violet eyes and long black hair in a bright yellow dress.

#klance #klangst #comedy #takashi shirogane #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #keith kogane #lance mcclain #Allura #voltron coran #keiths a girl #pinning keith #pinning #shennanigans #terrible jokes

48 notes · View notes

carterashofficial · 8 years ago

Text

@shimmer-like-agirl this was inspired by your fic with Corso going to pick up his very drunk captain from a seedy part of Nar Shaddaa

“I don’t do that anymore.” Carmadda snarled. She shoved Jarn away. “And you know that.”

He ran a hand through his hair, getting it perfectly messy. “Aw Baby, come on. I need it.”

“Fuck off.” Carmadda signaled for another shot. “And get out of Jak’s bar before he comes for you himself.”

Jarn sighed, smirking. “Looking out for me, Cari? I knew you still had a soft spot for me.” He gave her his best orphaned-puppy-eyes. “Please? I need the money.”

She knocked back the shot. “I’ll shoot your other ball off if you don’t leave me alone.”

“That’s a rumor. I still got both.”

“I’m the one who shot you. And leave me alone.”

He leaned in close enough for her to smell the same cheap cologne he still wore. “Baby, you’re a better racer than your dear dad, and- Aaaaahhhh.” Jarn moaned in pain as Carmadda slammed his head down on the bar. “Please, Cari,” he begged earnestly. “Please. You were my last resort. Braaga’s said I have until tomorrow or he’s sending some bounty hunters after me.” He flicked his eyes to her. “Please.”

Carmadda released the back of his coat and stepped away. “Get out. Now.”

“If you... change-your-mind.” He pressed crumpled flimsiplast into her hand before hauling it out of Jak’s Cantina.

She reached over the bar and helped herself to the whiskey. She took the bottle to an empty booth in the corner, catching Risha’s eye and shaking her head to not be disturbed.

Corso watched Carmadda from over his pazzak cards.

She had her head in her hands, face hidden and a good amount of drink missing from the bottle.

“You betting, Farmboy?”

“Only the captain can call me that,” he responded absentmindedly.

“Hey!” Risha’s fingers snapped in his face. “Bet or fold.”

Carmadda wiped at her face and looked up, eyes pink and cheeks glittering from tears. She stood and headed towards the door, fists shoved in pockets as she weaved through the crowd.

“I fold.” Corso dropped his cards. “Captain’s got a bad look on her face. I’m goin’ to follow her.”

Risha groaned as she gathered up the cards. “She left?”

“Yup.”

“Drunk?”

“Think so.”

“Oh, great.” Risha pulled her coat on and followed Corso to the door. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

Carmadda snapped the flight goggles on and kicked the speeder into gear. Her jacket was buttoned up tight, engine revving under her, and the racer on her left was eyeing her figure.

Just like Malastair.

Jarn grinned confidently. “I know you got this.”

“I know I’m keeping whatever credits you don’t owe. Let’s call it my cut.”

He pouted. “Baby-”

“Call me that one more time and you’ll never have any.”

That got a smirk. “I don’t remember you being so immune to my charms.”

Carmadda adjusted the handlebars, refusing to look at him. “Maybe you’re out of practice. Cheated with any dancers lately?”

“Ouch.” He placed a hand over his heart, then caught sight of someone and the confident smile re-emerged. “Grune! How’s it going?”

She glanced over her shoulder and keenly eyed the Black Sun Lieutenant Jarn was greeting.

So you’re back with them, huh?

Grune the Zabrak was heavily tattooed and scarred. Some of his horns were missing; their replacements cybernetic. Strapped to his hips were a pair of nasty looking railguns with worn grips. He walked over to Carmadda after he caught her studying him. “Hey Doll. Like what you see?”

“If you were any more mechanical I could fly you like this speeder.”

“As long as you ride me like it too. Jarnie here says you’re the best pilot he’s met from the upper levels.” Grune’s lips parted in a smile, giving Carmadda a good view of very pointy metal teeth. “I don’t know what you’re used to, but down here, we race quick and dirty. Nothings off limits.”

“Good. I hate rules.”

“Best of luck, Doll. I got my bets on you.”

Liar. You’re betting on the Black Sun guy on my left.

Carmadda tightened her grip on the handlebars. Recording droids appeared, lurking over the racer’s left shoulders.

An astromech rolled out in front of the three speeders, a flag clutched in each extendable arm. It raised the red one.

She revved the engine, nerves on fire and arms relaxed.

The droid waved the green flag.

Carmadda gunned the engine and roared past the droid, aiming the speeder upwards. She wove in and out of traffic, close enough that if she stuck out an elbow, she could scratch it on a hull.

The wind screamed in her ears.

She slammed on the brakes and spun right, shooting towards the air vents they were racing through.

One of the speeder bikes behind her started firing. Her recording droid chickened out of it’s job and planted itself on her shoulder.

Another bolt shot past her.

Let’s play it that way.

She entered the vent system and forced the speeder right. Her shoulder banged against the corner as she accelerated down the tube.

Fuck, that’s going to leave a mark.

The recording droid vibrated on her shoulder, climbing down her coat to hide from whatever was behind her.

Carmadda twisted in her seat for a moment and spat out a couple curses. Both speeders were behind her, and one was-

She whirled back around and threw the speeder into overdrive, careening past side vents and access holes as the missile gained on her.

Three, two- Now!

The bike screeched in protest as she cut the engine and forced it left.

Heat radiated across her back as the missile shot past.

Carmadda started the engine back up and accelerated down the vent, the other two still behind her after her mad rush at full speed through the vents.

The recording probe climbed up into her collar, nestling against the fabric and metal plating chilling her skin.

She took the tubes slower, watching the turns.

A blaster bolt sailed over her shoulder right where the droid had been.

Fuck you, Jarn, this wasn’t on my to-do list for today.

Seriously, Modda? Street racing?

Risha watched the vidscreen leaning against a small mountain of crates, frowning. The ginger guy, Jarn, had flirted with her for all of thirty seconds before she introduced her fist to his jaw. He, and the rest of the men, had left her alone after that.

“That almost hit her!” Corso growled. “Look at them, shootin’ at a lady!”

“These boys aren’t gentlemen, Corso.” Risha narrowed her eyes. “That’s not- Oh shit.”

Corso blanched next to her. “She’s goin’ to fall.”

Carmadda’s speeder had bucked at a direct hit from one of her competitor’s blasters, and the captain had been thrown off her speeder and through a hole in the tubing.

The only thing that was currently being shown from her recording droid was part of her neck and her jacket’s upturned collar.

“Modda...” Risha didn’t finish her sentence.

The view changed as Carmadda’s droid crawled out of her jacket, giving them a better look at her predicatment.

“Oh no.” Risha felt the blood drain from her face.

Corso looked about three seconds away from shooting someone and stealing their ride.

Carmadda was danging from a hanging piece of the torn tubing. Far below was a lane of traffic, lights slinking along above blackness. But her expression chilled RIsha to the bone.

Carmadda wasn’t even near scared. Acceptance was in her eyes, and resignation, determination, and a rebellious glint...

“NO!” Risha screamed as Carmadda let go.

She fumbled on her belt and aimed the liquid cable launcher at the top of the tube.

The hook caught.

Carmadda flew upward, boots thudding against the tube’s bottom as she landed. She straddled the speeder bike and restarted the engine. The engine whined as she pushed it faster.

I’m coming, you two.

She sped past one of the other racers. He was lying in a crumpled pile of limbs, his recording probe broadcasting an emergency signal.

She flipped left and right, cutting corners as close as she dared...

I ssssseeeee you.

Carmadda aimed the cable launcher at the racer’s back. She fired.

The woman went stiff and started thrashing, trying to dislodge the claw attached to her back. Her speeder slowed as Carmadda used it to haul hers forward.

Carmadda’s droid burrowed back under her collar.

The woman drew a vibroblade and sliced the cable.

Carmadda reached over and tore at the engine, the heat burning through her gloves as she felt around for-

Got it.

Carmadda ripped the acceleration cables out and rocked away from a jab of the vibroblade.

The racer tried for her steering mechanisms.

Carmadda glanced forward and hit on brakes.

The other racer didn’t.

She crashed sideways into the wall, leaving a deep dent behind. Her vibroblade clattered away, too bent to be of any use.

Carmadda tore past her, zooming through the vents until she was back out in the fresh air. She piloted back to the start point, heart racing and hands shaking as she crossed the finish line and tore off the goggles.

“CAPTAIN!” Corso shouted. He looked equal parts pissed and relieved as Risha held him back, her face stern.

Carmadda swung off her bike and glared at Jarn. “We good?”

He looked livid. “YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO WIN, CARI! I BET AGAINST YOU!”

“You what?” Carmadda asked icily.

“I BET AGAINST YOU! I KNOW HOW YOU FLY, YOU WEREN’T GOING TO WIN! YOU DRANK HALF A BOTTLE OF BOOZE, GIRL, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DRUNK!”

She socked Jarn in the mouth. “You made me race in this fucking doozy and you didn’t even bet on me?”

“You’re were just learning how to fly when I left! I didn’t think...”

Carmadda grabbed him by his perfectly messy hair and yanked him down to eye level. “Do you want me to give you a matching set of scars on the other half of your face?”

“No!” Jarn froze and sent a panicked grin over to Grune. “So um... Cari, Baby, since you just lost me a couple hundred thousand credits-”

“You deserve it.” She pushed him away. “Go lie your way out of it like you always do. And don’t you ever call me again.”

He smiled spitefully. “I think your dad would be proud. His little girl’s all better than him.”

“Oh, no, no, no...” Risha’s voice echoed in Carmadda ears, strong arms holding her back as she fought to get to Jarn.

“YOU BASTARD. HOW FUCKING DARE YOU TRY AND MANIPULATE ME LIKE THAT. FARMBOY, LET ME GO OR I’M GOING TO INTRODUCE YOUR FACE TO MY BOOT.”

“Calm down, Captain, he’s tryin’ to piss you off.”

“LET ME GO!”

He released her.

Carmadda stormed towards Jarn in a blaze of fury.

He tried to back up.

She grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed her fist into his nose.

“Cari-”

Punch in the gut.

“I-”

Kneed in the groin.

“Baby,” he rasped.

Carmadda knelt and smiled spitefully. “I’d continue, but I want there to be something for me to shoot next time I see you. Have a nice life, Jarn, and good luck with Grune over there and the bounty hunters.” She dusted off her knees and headed back to Corso and Risha.

They didn’t look happy with her.

“Captain, that was stupid. You almost died!”

“Karras, that was stupid. You almost died,” Mama chastised Dad, trying to hide her smile under her hand.

Carmadda pushed the thought away. “Didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“You’re gettin’ it anyway! What if you fell or it exploded and... Captain, I’m talkin’ to you!” Corso shouted after her.

Risha’s voice followed his. “Modda, stop walking away!”

Dad swung me up onto his shoulders and spun around. “Hylbs, stop walking away! I didn’t get to kiss you yet!”

“GROSS!” I cackled as Dad raced after Mama.

“I need a drink.” Carmadda waved at them and started the swoop bike up again. “See you back on the ship.

“It’s just a short race, Slugger.” Dad knelt and looked me in the eyes, Mama’s arms around me, her fingers gripping my shoulders just a little too tight. She was nervous, and I was too. I had a bad feeling. “See you at the finish line.”

The wind made her eyes water as she flew towards the lower levels, pushing the bike faster than she should’ve towards the darkness at the bottom of Coruscant. She pretended all the tears were from the air rushing past.

Mama was screaming for him at the explosion. I was waiting for Dad to get up and stumble away. He never did.

She hit the brakes and yanked the handlebars up, leaving the bad memories in her wake. The engine sputtered briefly at the hairpin turn.

Slowly the little recording droid crawled out of her collar and perched on her shoulder, vibrating contently.

At least someone’s happy.

Carmadda smirked bitterly at the thought.

#swtor #Carmadda Shade #Corso Riggs #Risha Drayen #Jarn the Ex

25 notes · View notes