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thr-333 · 4 years ago

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Drastic Measures- Part 7

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Chill~

Wrote it all in an hour and 20 minutes just about? Not bad, not bad at all.

Ao3

First< Previous

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“Why! Why does it have to be so cold!” Marinette pulls on her coat tighter.

“Why did you come if you’re just going to complain?” Damian scowls, looking over the list they were given.

“Dick asked me to,” Marinette shivers, “Besides I need to get out and see the city, you said you would show me,”

“I only agreed to this because Dick insisted I apologize for trying to kill you,”

“You were trying to kill me?”

“... No?”

“Damian,”

“Fine,” He pulls off the sweater he was wearing, the one she had made him, “My bad, now keep warm,”

“My bad is not an apology,” Marinette chides pulling the sweater on, “If you didn’t like the sweater you could have just said so,”

“That's not-” Damina turn to see her smirk, tutting then turning back around, “You're incorrigible,”

“Your apology is accepted,” Marinette giggles skipping slightly to catch up, she takes note of how he shivers as a gust of wind blows through, “Hey you're cold now right? I have an idea,”

“I’m not cold,” Damian snaps, picking up the pace, “Unlike you, I have more discipline than that,”

“Oh please, you grew up in the desert right?” Damian glares at her, “What? You think I didn’t know anything? Maman not as good at hiding things as she thinks she is,”

“Be careful where you say that,” He warns, they walk for a little while more the temperature dropping. Marinette continues to keep an incredulous eye on Damian. After ten minutes he sighs, “What's your idea?”

“It involves me getting on your back,”

“Not a chance,” Damian tuts, “You could stab me in the back,”

“Literally or figuratively?” Another glare but Marinette just smiles under it, “Fine then, I’ll just take this sweater off and we can both freeze,”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Damian snatches it off her, “I’ll just wear it,”

And so he does. They walk for a while longer Marinette simultaneously congratulating and cursing herself for picking such a warm fabric for Damian's sweater as she shivers in the cold Gotham winds. Her teeth are chattering and they are still a long way off from their destination. Marinette starts to slow down, ever since she had become ladybug her tolerance to the cold was lowering, like how Adrien's eyesight at night kept improving; although she probably got the short end of the stick for that one. Her thoughts are interrupted by a long suffered sigh from Damian.

“Fine, we’ll do your plan,”

“Really?!”

“If we actually want to get there today, yes,”

---

“This was your plan!” Damian shouts as they run down the street.

“It’s a great plan!’ Marinette clings to his back.

“Everyones staring,” Damian scowls, the sweater just big enough to stretch over both of them locking Marinette against his back.

“Then run faster!”

“Maybe if you stopped strangling me I would!”

“Oh please, stop being dramatic,”

“Why don't you start running and we’ll see whos being dramatic!”

“I could probably get there before you!”

“Yeah right, you-”

“Wait! Wait! Go back!” Marinette tugs, Damian lets out a choked sound stopping as he brings his hands up to remove hers.

“What,” He is unable to get her off with the sweater around them both.

“Pet store,” Marinette shimmies down, managing to get out with some difficulty, “Look how cute- wait,”

“Where are you going!” Damian calls as she storms into the pet store, he trails reluctantly behind her. Marinette walks right up to the desk slamming her hand down.

“Excuse me are you in charge of this store?”

“I’m the manager, yes,” The man raises an eyebrow looking up from his newspaper.

“Are you aware that the enclosure out there is filthy?”

“Animals get dirty,”

“It’s a health code violation,” Marinette scolds, “You're going to make the animals sick,”

“Tt, she’s right,” Damian looks around the store, the rest of the cages in even worse condition, “Just what sort of business do you think you're running? These are live animals, you can’t even see into the fish tank at this point,”

“I’ve followed company policy,” The manger huffs, going back to the newspaper adding a mocking, “So if you want to take it up with anyone take it up with them,”

“Oh I will,” Damian hisses, before going to the other end of the store intently tapping at his phone.

“Ha, have fun getting bounced around the phones for the next ten hours,” The manager barks, Marinette rolls her eyes turning back to him.

“Look it may not be required by your employer but try to have some compassion these are living creatures, they look miserable,”

“Well then, why don’t you buy them if they look so miserable,”

“That's not the root of the problem and you know it,” Marinette reasons with the unreasonable, “You’ll just replace them with more animals, this place isn’t fit for that,”

She could just feel the negative energy coming from the place, a place of suffering for those who had no way out. Her magic had perked the animals up a bit but that wouldn't solve the problems at hand. Not that any of this seemed to get through to the manager as Marinette kept arguing. She brought up her phone and articles to help support her argument. Only finding to her disdain that the pet store franchise itself had a long history of animal abuse, that this was the norm, not an exception. They just threw money at any lawsuit that came their way and bribing inspectors.

“Why are you even working here if you hate-”

“Excuse me,” A new customer walks up, Damian close behind, “Could I look-”

“Do whatever you like!” The manager snaps, “Can’t you see I’m busy here?!”

“Do you treat all your customers like this? No wonder your not getting any business if the facilities alone didn’t scare people off,” Marinette finally snaps. Damian, dare she say looks impressed, which probably isn’t a good sign.

“You’re insulting me now?”

“I’ve been insulting you the past hour, nice of you to catch on,”

From there it devolves into a full argument. They rage while Damian and the other customer poke around the store, talking to each other. Damian keeps on making calls and Marinette wishes he would stop and come help back her up, he seemed just as disgusted with this place as she was. But whenever she sends a look his way Damian just brushes her off going back to his call.

The argument escalates. Marinette's magic lashing out, subconsciously sending the animals into a frenzy. Barks and howls ring out mixed with cat yowls and whatever noise the other animals can manage.

“Quiet down you!” The manager roars, winding up to hit a puppy yapping at him, Marinette moves just a fraction of a second too slow.

“How dare you,” Damian catches the fist, twisting the arm in a painful unnatural position, “You’re fired,”

“You can’t fire me!” He struggles in Damian's grip, who in turn looks completely unfazed by the effort.

“Actually I can,” Damina flips his screen around to show a contract, “I just brought the company,”

“You what?!” Both Marinette and the manager shout at the same time.

“Yes well, it was easy enough to get in touch with the president of the company, when I put in my offer he laughed me off,” Damian shrugs letting the shell shocked man go, “So I called in one of our best lawyers,”

Damian nods to the other customer, who nods back.

“She built a case for us compiling evidence from this store, thank you for full access by the way,” Damian looks smugly at the manager gaping like a fish, “Other lawyers were in charge of inspecting other stores and researching past allegations, and I had some working internationally look at the branches in other countries, the results were not flattering,”

Damian's glare turns cold and piercing. Marinette had been on the receiving end of that glare and would like to think she handled it better than this guy was.

“Couple that all with the declarations I recorded from you arguing with Marinette,” Damina inclines his head to her, Marinette nods kind of dumbly, “And we had quite the case to shut the business down, you can guarantee the Wayne influence and lawyers would prevent this all from being swept under the rug,”

“Wayne?!”

“Yes, and as you can imagine after we sent through the case file the owner wasn't laughing me off the phone, he agreed to my price,” The man was sweating buckets now as Damian advanced looming over him, “The contracts aren't finalized or signed yet but you can guarantee by the end of the week I will own this place,”

Damian leans over him as the manager tries to sink into the floor.

“So. You. Are. Fired.”

---

“So are you going to teach me the glare that makes grown men pee their pants and run for their lives or do I have to figure it out myself?” Marinette teases, picking through the stocks in the back.

“You wouldn't be able to pull it off,” Damian shoots back, taking the bag she hands him, “An emergency demand was put out for new workers, they’ll be here soon to do this,”

“Oh no you don’t you little rich boy,” Marinette laughs at the face he makes, “You don’t just get to roll through here, throw some money at it and expect your job to be done, you took this company on so show a little responsibility,”

“I am taking responsibility,” Damian scowls, “I fully plan on improving this place,”

“What? By hiring someone to take over with the vague demands of ‘make it better’?” Damian sour look is all the answer she needs, “No way, this is your own responsibility and no one else's, so you need to take a long hard look at what's wrong and figure out how to fix it,”

“If I recall this all is partly your fault,” Damian stacks another bag where she told him too.

“If I recall I didn’t tell you to buy an entire pet store franchise,” Not that she didn’t approve, “But fine, I’ll help you out if you want,”

“I didn’t say that,”

“You didn’t have to,” Damian huffs and looks away, Marinette smiles and picks up a bag of food, “First things first, the food is horrible quality, it’s all filler with little nutritional value,”

“I’ll order new stock right away,” Damian takes out his phone, Marinette snatches it from him.

“Hold on now,” Damian gives her that little put off look she finds adorable, “You have to look at all the problems first then make a plan of action or you're just running around like a headless chicken,”

“Your point?”

“The staff are also underpaid, it’s not enough to live off and certainly not enough to motivate a good work ethic,” Marinette hands back the phone, Damian pockets it, “So before you go around firing everyone that's ever worked here why don’t you try changing the bones of the company then picking out the bad seeds?”

“Alright,” Damian concedes, “... You have a point,”

“Was that tough to admit?”

“The only excruciating part of it is your smugness,”

“Why hello kettle,” Damina gives her a light glare but she just laughs it off.

“All these changes are going to be expensive,” Damian frowns looking through the statistics the lawyers had sent them, “The company was already falling into debt,”

“It needs a hook,” Marinette hums, “Something new and unique that no other chain has…. I got it!!”

She brushes past him, going for her sketchbook and starting the brainstorming process.

“Would you like to share your epiphany?” Damian asks after about five minutes of watching her sketch. “An exclusive pet clothesline!”

“Oh boy,”

---

“See I was right wasn't I?” Marinette finishes fixing the outfit onto Titus.

“I was under the impression you were going to make something vapid and ridiculous,” Damian deflects, looking at the raincoat Marinette had made for Titus, it fit him perfectly and worked well with his fur color as well, “This is at least useful,”

“Wow, that might be a bigger compliment than ‘it’s well made’ or is it?” Marinette cocks her head to the side, “Should I start a ‘Damian's compliments’ tier list?”

“Do not,” Damian calls Titus back to him, taking off the raincoat, “This should at least partly help make up for the new expenses,”

“What changes should we make first?” Marinette follows Damian inside, already sketching new designs into her book.

“There's no point in launching the pet clothes until the company goes through its rebrand, and that will take some time anyway,” They settle in a study they had commandeered to work together in, a sewing machine up near the window, “By the way whats your design fee?"

“Hm… make me a co-owner and we’ll forget about the design fee,” Marinette smiles as Damian doesn't immediately look disgusted by the prospect, “Besides If I recall this is partly my fault,”

“Fine co-owner,” Damian rolls his eyes at her, “I guess we’ll be drafting a new contract,”

“Make sure our shares are 50/50,”

“80/20,”

“Awe you’d let me have 80%”

Damian gives her a withering glare with no heat.

“50/50,” Marinette holds out her hand, “Equal,”

“... Equal,” Damian takes her hand, “You better design a lot of clothes,”

“Already on it,” Marinette holds up her new sketchbook, dedicated to just this, “Plus I’ll be part of the planning so let me in on it,”

“I was-” Damian cuts off glaring towards the door, Marinette follows his eye to see Dick and Adrien caught like deer in headlights looking at them with phones held up.

“Adrien!” Marinette starts towards them getting overtaken by Damian as they both start sprinting.

“Delete it or I destroy your phone!” He threatens, chasing them down the hall.

“Already backed it up to several computers!” Dick calls back, disappearing around the corner, the three yells disappearing into the distance. Marinette chuckles to herself, going back to finish up her designs.

--------

No tag list :P

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #MLB #ML #ml fic #Marinette #miraculous marinette #badass marinette #maribat #daminette

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narrans · 4 years ago

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A Tall and Small Collection | Soren | WaterWorks

The following days between Ashlynn and the Borrowers were progressively becoming less tense. There were brief conversations between the four of them which went smoothly and let both Dorian and Rey come to terms with the fact they’d be staying with a human for a little bit longer.

They moved from the bedside table to the ground not because they were uncomfortable, but because Soren insisted that he continue to practice and walk on his healing leg. Yes, it made Dorian and Rey a little more comfortable to be slightly hidden from Ashlynn’s eyes, but this dissipated after a few days as they would go on walks in the open with Soren within eyesight of Ashlynn.

Rey, for the most part, felt more at ease than his older brother Dorian ever since his conversation with their human host. Dorian was still skeptical, his father’s words ringing in his ears about humans and their tricks; however, he couldn’t deny that Ashlynn was, at the very least, receptive to Soren’s requests. It was strange seeing his brother, Soren – the one who taught Rey and him to stay away from humans – trusting and defending a human.

Dorian would have been at more unease if his brother showed fear, but that wasn’t the case. Twice during these following days, Ashlynn had pulled Soren to the side to change the cast on his leg. Soren remained completely calm as Ashlynn changed his cast. The eldest Borrower’s injured leg was now a soft cast, definitely an improvement and more flexible than the stiffer material Ashlynn had been using. It was still sensitive and bruised, but nowhere near where it used to be.

At the same time, it wasn’t where Soren wanted his injury to be. The Borrower knew Ashlynn meant no ill will or harm to his brothers or him, but he also knew this couldn’t be how things remained. He was grateful for everything Ashlynn had done; the eldest Borrower could not thank her enough – but this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be.

There were only a few things he could do to aid his recovery however, and they were walking and climb holds. So, Soren spent the majority of his time walking the length of the room near the wall without his walking stick. Each step with his injured leg ached, but it no longer sent a shockwave of pain up his leg. It was a good sign that his healing was headed in the right direction.

There were obvious issues other than the injury in his leg, which were energy and the continuous progression of time. Every few laps, Soren would have to take a break, needing the throbbing in his leg to ease before starting again. The other issue, time, was against him as usual. Soren knew he needed to get better so they could resume their lives back in the walls where Soren would keep borrowing and teach his brothers how to live – where they belonged.

Soren kept his desire to recover rapidly close to his chest, however, so he didn’t let up his brother’s hopes of leaving anytime soon. Instead, he encouraged Dorian and Rey to continue their training by climbing and running when Soren did his exercises.

Of course, Dorian and Rey did their best to help their older brother by walking with him and propping him up using their shoulders to balance when he was unsteady, but this was something Soren knew his body needed to do this on his own – and healing took time.

It was one of those days when Ashlynn was working quietly and Soren was taking his laps when Ashlynn’s voice carried from her kitchen table to her bedroom.

“Hey, Soren. Can I come in? I need to grab my headphones,” said Ashlynn.

“Yes, you’re good,” called Soren, noting that Dorian and Rey were currently resting in their box.

Soren had just made it back to the bedside table and propped himself against the leg base, feeling the subtle pulse of his heartbeat in his leg. Ashlynn poked her head into the room, her keen blue-grey eyes picking up his location after a moment of scanning the ground. She saw him and gave a small wave as she retrieved her headphones, but hesitated before leaving, noticing the momentary grimace on Soren’s face before he forced a smile.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

“Yeah,” replied the eldest Borrower, running his fingers through his lengthening hair. “Just tired.”

Ashlynn sat on the ground nearby, scooting closer after noticing Dorian and Rey weren’t nearby. She had been conscious of their feelings and, knowing they were still a little uncomfortable with her nearby, had tried to give them the necessary space. Yes, they had gotten better over time, especially Rey, but there was an unease inherent and instinctual in their size difference.

“You could take a break,” she suggested. “You’ve been pacing back and forth for days nonstop.” Soren shook his head.

“Not really,” he muttered. “Not if I want to get better.”

“True,” Ashlynn signed. “But you can overwork your body. That’s why you need recovery time and rest days; and you haven’t taken any of those. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“I can’t afford a rest day Ashlynn,” insisted Soren, reaching up and rubbing his eyes. “Not if we want to leave, hopefully sooner than later.”

His mind had been swirling with his worries and concerns that this slip of the tongue almost went unnoticed by him; however, the moment the words left his mouth, Soren wished he could rephrase or take the words back entirely. He wasn’t fast enough. He glanced up at Ashlynn who was already preparing for a rebuttal.

“Leave sooner than later?” she echoed hollowly. “Wow. I didn’t think I was that bad of a host.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Soren, attempting to backpedal out of his words.

“No?” asked Ashlynn, appearing slightly incredulous. “How’d you mean it then?” Soren was starting to feel uneasy and took the defensive.

“I just…” Soren’s mind scrambled to think of how to approach the subject. “I mean… that we, my brothers and I, aren’t supposed to be seen by humans, let alone stay with them. Don’t get me wrong! You’ve been wonderful and there is no way I can repay you, but… it’s not how things are supposed to be.”

“Wow! Now you’ve lumped me into the ‘humans’ group. Good to know. And why does it matter if you stay or go at this point? Haven’t I proven myself – at least to you?” Ashlynn shot back. Her blue-grey eyes steeled coldly at Soren’s inability to answer quick enough. He attempted to recover quickly after a beat of time.

“Ashlynn, I know you’ve earned my trust, but it’s not about that. There are rules; rules about us and things we need to do and…”

“And haven’t you broken basically all of them at this point? Really, what’s the point of upholding this set of rules of you’ve broken then already?” interjected Ashlynn.

The hair on Soren’s neck raised uneasily. Was she having second thoughts about letting them go? What was different? To Soren’s horror, Ashlynn continued; and what she said sent his instincts into a frenzy.

“I don’t know. It just seems like a hard time of it when it doesn’t need to be. Gathering supplies, living like nomads, hiding in the shadows like you’re in the dark ages or something. Just… wouldn’t it be easier if you stayed?”

Soren hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath while Ashlynn spoke. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, palms sweating slightly. Soren hoped his younger brothers weren’t hearing this, fearing their reaction. Calm down. She can’t know how this sounds; or does she.

The eldest Borrower swallowed dryly and readjusted his position as he sat. Don’t say anything reckless. She can change her mind at any point in time.

“Ashlynn,” said Soren. Thankfully, he managed to suppress the tremor playing with his vocal cords. “You’re right. It is a hard life; and one that I feel useful in. Being injured has only reassured me that I’m not meant to sit around having things brought to me. This life gives me purpose.”

“I’m sure it does, but…” Ashlynn cut in.

“Ashlynn, there are rules about being seen – about leaving to protect not just us, but all of our kind regardless of circumstance,” interrupted Soren, feeling his spark of bravery waxing and waning with every pulse of his heart. “Why do you want us to stay?”

The question left the Borrower’s mouth before he could stop himself. Ashlynn’s eyes steeled again as she looked away harshly. This made an uncomfortable hollow knot in Soren’s insides. For a solid thirty seconds of silence, Soren feared he may be grabbed before Ashlynn moved, pushing herself to her feet and rolled her eyes muttering, “Forget it,” under her breath angrily before leaving the room.

Soren could have collapsed with relief, but his mind still reeled with possibilities. Why the change of mind? What wasn’t Ashlynn saying? Soren now had the hard choice in front of him – leave and chance not being able to provide for his family or stay and risk being unable to leave ever again.

~~~~~~~

It was a few hours after Ashlynn and Soren spoke. It wasn’t unusual but, after the tenseness of the afternoon, anything was possible and up in the air. Soren was in enough of a right mind to gather up some necessary materials and let Rey and Dorian know where their packs were. Soren also shuffled some emergency provisions behind the electrical cover if the worse case scenario were to happen.

It wasn’t until the third hour that Ashlynn reappeared looking a little bit sheepish and, for lack of a better word, embarrassed.

Soren felt his body flexing, preparing to flee if necessary. He thanked the stars he sent Dorian and Rey into the walls to train their climbing skills on the low beams while he continued to pace outside the walls.

“Hey…” said Ashlynn quietly, making eye-contact intermittently before shying away. Before Soren could initiate the same greeting, Ashlynn stepped up to him, sat down in front of Soren with her shoulders slumped slightly, and continued speaking. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get angry.” Ashlynn’s sudden close proximity to the four-and-a-half-inch person only let him hear part of what she said through the pounding of his heart in his ears, but understood the overall gist based on his human counterpart’s demeanor.

Soren swallowed dryly again as he looked into the human’s softened features. “It’s okay,” he said slowly.

“I get what you were saying,” said Ashlynn. “And I get why you asked me about why I wanted you to stay. It’s just…” Ashlynn’s voice dropped off and, to Soren’s surprise, he could see clear drops of water glazing the surface of her blue-grey eyes which were still averted. “I’ll miss you.”

Those three words set Soren back on his heels. Missed? Him? Soren would believe his brothers or mother would miss him, but a human missing him? After his distrust? Rules? The disruption Soren had caused in Ashlynn’s schedule? All of these things should have had the opposite effect. Or did it?

Soren thought about the questions Ashlynn asked him over the days and the conversations they had. Suddenly, the realization dawned on him that he had indeed enjoyed his conversations with his human host. At first, what was a terrifying experience when he first arrived had become a saving grace – a distraction and something to cling to when he was completely alone.

He understood now – Ashlynn was going to feel lonely. She was asking why he had to leave not because she wanted to keep him against his will, but because the disruption and conversation had become a quick norm – something for her to cling to – and she was going to miss him.

Soren, with this information, felt the tenseness easing from his body. His chest, once clutched with an unease and anticipation to flee, was now heavy and aching.

“Ashlynn, I’m…” Soren couldn’t think of what to say, so he did the only thing he could think to do. Carefully, he hobbled over to Ashlynn’s left hand and boldly reached out and touched it. His mind flashed back to when she had reached out to him, pressing her pinkie against his leg. It was a nice memory.

For a time, it was quiet. It was all they needed. Warm tears threatened to leak over the edges of her eyes and, though unnerving, she reached over with her free hand and pressed the tips of her fingers against his back. While Soren was more certain of Ashlynn’s motives, his body still instinctually tensed. Her fingers were warm and soft. Finally, she pulled her right hand away.

Ashlynn laughed under her breath as she wiped her eyes with her now freed hand with a muttered, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” replied Soren. “I… didn’t even think about how leaving sounded to you.” Ashlynn shook her head.

“No. It’s just me being stupid, as usual,” she sighed. Before Soren could say anything, Ashlynn continued through a stifled sniff. “I… uh… well… Sorry, again. I found something that might help with your leg.” Soren felt his curiosity peaking as his unease began to subside.

“Help my leg?” he asked. Ashlynn nodded.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I was reading up on physical therapy techniques and I think that if you were suspended and could keep the weight off of your leg that you could keep going for longer. It’s not much, but it could help.” Soren’s heart thumped nervously, but in partial excitement. The prospect of getting better faster and getting back to normal was lightening the conversation tremendously.

“But, how are you keeping the weight off of my leg. Isn’t that what strengthens my leg? The weight?” asked Soren. Ashlynn nodded.

“Well, that’s part of it,” she replied. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but there’s this thing called aquatic therapy. Basically, you have a bunch of exercises you do in the water.” Soren felt the excitement fading rapidly.

“Water exercises?” he asked hollowly. “But… I can’t swim. I mean, I’ve bathed, obviously. How can I do it if I can’t swim?” Ashlynn nodded.

“You wouldn’t have to swim. You just need to walk in the water in the tub back and forth,” replied Ashlynn. “It wouldn’t be too high and there would be things for you to grab onto just in case.” Soren felt slightly uneasy, but Ashlynn hadn’t steered him wrong before.

“Okay… what do I need to do?”

~~~~~

Ashlynn was gone for five minutes or so before coming back and retrieving Soren who, after giving permission, allowed Ashlynn to carry him to the bathroom. He had slipped into a pair of loose pants he didn’t mind soaking in water on and let Ashlynn explain the different exercises and where he needed to grab if he accidentally slipped. She offered to stay and, after careful consideration, Soren agreed.

The tub had be set up as a set of connecting lines connected to the bathtub walls. Each line was at water level so he could grab it easily. There were also odd things in the water which Ashlynn called flotation devices.

She lowered him into the water which came up just below his arms. It was warm and, thankfully, he could reach the bottom even without dipping his head under the water. Ashlynn then instructed him how to stay afloat and gain his footing. Mainly, she taught him that he needed to remain calm even if he plunged beneath the water.

Admittedly, it was unnerving like the first time he saw Ashlynn standing above him. His skin crawled and his heart raced in his chest, but he had to admit that walking through the water kept the weight off of his injured leg. Before he knew it, an hour had passed of him speaking to Ashlynn and walking around and around in the tub.

While walking around in the water, it slowed Soren to half of his normal speed, but the ease of walking combined with the floating sensation made exercise manageable and, boldly thinking, enjoyable.

What was an unease became regular as, over the next week, Ashlynn helped set up the bathtub so Soren could walk around freely. Eventually, Dorian and Rey began to get in on the exercises as well, splashing in the water and learning the value of holding their breath while submerged.

Soren looked out on the scene before him one of these later days in the week. While watching his brothers splash and gain a fearlessness in the water, the eldest Borrower couldn’t help but smile. He was gaining strength faster than he thought with Ashlynn’s suggestion of exercising in the water. His brothers were looking brighter and stronger by the day. Even Ashlynn seemed to be feeling better about the prospect of departing.

There were so many things going in their favor. It felt like Soren’s luck was finally returning. Despite so much fortune, Soren couldn’t help but worry – was there something coming for them? Something Soren hadn’t thought of?

Continue

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mdelpin · 3 years ago

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The Red Dragon - Chapter 35 (Final)

Cover Art by @khaoticvex

AO3 | Tumblr: Ch1 | Ch34

And here we are at the end. 2 years and 10 months and a little over 200K words later.

It's been a long time coming and I want to thank you all for your patience as this was not an easy story to write. I hope you enjoy this final chapter, I tried to get in everything I reasonably could.

Chapter 35

Gajeel gazed at Wendy as she watched the huddled figures of Natsu and Gray sadly. He could tell she was about to go over there, and he held out a hand to her.

“Don’t,” Gajeel warned. He’d directed it at Wendy, but he meant it as a warning to the others as well. “I don’t have the first clue what the hell all that was about, but I do know Natsu doesn’t need us all over him right now.”

“But-” Wendy protested, seeing as Happy had crept closer, but even he was giving them some space, content to rest near them.

Gajeel could hardly blame her. He felt the same urge to comfort Natsu. He knew exactly what it felt like to have your parents ripped away from you unexpectedly. Could relate to the emptiness and shock Natsu was undoubtedly feeling, which was why he also knew that his friend wouldn’t want anyone but Gray and Atlas near him at the moment.

It had been a long, exhausting battle, and it left him feeling battered. It all felt so anticlimactic. They’d finally put an end to Acnologia’s carnage, but he could find no joy in it. His heart felt heavy in his chest and all he wanted to do was collapse on the ground and avoid moving for a while, maybe thinking too.

Whatever they’d just witnessed, and Gajeel understood precious little of it, Igneel had been someone he’d cared about deeply. The fire dragon had always taken an interest in all the dragon slayers, chatting with them and making them feel at home from the first moment they had met him and the rest of the dragons. And he’d always seemed larger than life. Gajeel was still having trouble accepting he was gone, but with Natsu out of commission for the moment, it fell to him to once again be the leader of their little band of misfits.

The battle had taken a lot out of all of them, especially Natsu and Happy. They wouldn’t be flying home for a while. The best thing they could all do for now was to get some rest and recoup some of their energy.

Gajeel moved away from the three dragons, nudging Wendy to follow. He found them a spot where they could sit somewhat comfortably and wait for Atlas to return with Irene and Oliver.

“Do you- do you think he’ll be alright?” Wendy fretted, as was her way.

Gajeel could only shrug, “I’m sure he will, but he’s going to need some time. We all will.”

Wendy nodded and Gajeel changed the subject for both their sakes. “Rogue handled himself pretty well out there, don’t you think?”

“Yes!” Wendy immediately perked up. “Those legs you made him work really well. He fought just as well as he did before.”

Gajeel was about to say something about it to Rogue when he noticed the Shadow Dragon slayer and Sting were still locked in an embrace. “Ugh, you’re all disgusting. I seriously need to find a girlfriend. I’m so tired of watching all of you.”

Wendy smiled, “Well, you should definitely have better luck with that in Talos than you did in Drak Aast.”

In his defense, it wasn’t like there had been that many female dragon slayers in Drak Aast to begin with, and the few there had been were not overly fond of him.

“Oh great, here comes yours,” Gajeel groaned as he noticed Atlas approaching.

The hellfire dragon landed near them and as he crouched down, his tail swished, yeeting Acnologia’s corpse several yards away from them, where it slammed to the ground with a terrific thud.

Atlas looked completely unrepentant.

“Holy Shit! What did I miss?!” Oliver asked, sliding off Atlas’ backside and studying the remains of the clearing in dismay. Irene followed him down in a more dignified manner.

“Everything.” Sting rolled his eyes at the lightning dragon slayer before sitting down near Gajeel. “As usual.”

“Hey! Don’t say that like I do it on purpose,” Oliver complained.

Gajeel had to snort at that. Oliver had always been slightly accident prone, but once they’d arrived at Drak Aast, hardly a day had gone by without him coming to see Wendy for healing. They had soon come to realize he had a massive crush on her and had gone to splendid efforts to make his life a living hell until Wendy had made them stop.

“Oliver!” Wendy rushed over to her boyfriend, using what little magic she had left to check his injuries.

“I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, you need to rest.” Oliver scolded, wrapping Wendy up in an embrace and kissing the top of her head as he looked the others over. “Wow, you all look like death warmed over.”

“Yeah, well, not all of us got to sleep through the fight,” Gajeel grumbled from where he sat leaning against a downed tree trunk.

Wendy took Oliver by the hand, leading him back to the others.

“Is it really over?” Rogue wondered out loud as he collapsed tiredly next to Sting. He set about removing his metal legs, seeking to ease some of the pain in his stumps after all the running he’d done.

“Yes, it’s finally over.” Atlas assured him. “I’m so proud of all you kids. You put up one hell of a fight.”

“I don’t know about that. If you and Gray hadn’t shown up when you did, we would’ve been screwed,” Sting said, “I know I sure as hell didn’t have much left.”

Gajeel grunted his agreement. His clothes were in tatters, his body covered in bruises despite being as hard as iron. “Tell me about it, I think I’m gonna sleep for a week once we get home.”

“I know you said there wasn’t time to explain before, but-” Wendy glanced over at Natsu and Gray again. “How is any of this possible?”

The dragon looked as tired as they all felt, making Gajeel think he wouldn’t answer, but after peering over at Natsu, Gray and Happy, he launched into an explanation.

“It was Igneel’s idea. When Gray didn’t set off the warning sigils we’d placed in the cave, he became determined to figure out why. He had this theory that dragon souls were being born in human bodies. That was how it all started.”

What followed was a story as shocking as it was tragic, and Gajeel had to admit his estimation of Gray improved greatly in the telling. He’d certainly seen how love made people do all sorts of crazy shit, but he would never have expected Gray to go that far, especially given how much he’d always hated dragons. It filled him with a strange sense of pride, like what he imagined Anna felt when she looked at all of them.

“So hang on, does that mean we have dragon souls too?” Rogue asked while pointing at himself and Sting.

“There’s a lot we still don’t know, but I think it’s likely, given that you’re soul bonded. As for the rest of you, it’s possible? Maybe that’s why some dragon slayers took to the enchantment better than others. If you really want to know, I can check all of you when we return.”

Gajeel let that idea sink in for a minute. It was certainly interesting to consider, but he doubted it changed anything for any of them.

The sound of heavy, unsteady steps alerted them to Gray’s approach. He tottered towards them with a sorrowful expression on his face. Once he reached them, he nudged Atlas.

“Natsu wants you.”

Atlas closed his eyes briefly and nodded. “How’s he doing?”

Gajeel knew the dragon well enough to know that he was really asking.

Does he blame me?

All eyes were on Gray as everyone waited for his response.

“He’s doing better,” Gray said, although his eyes never strayed from the ground. “Still a little shell-shocked, though.”

“What about you, how are you doing?”

Gajeel could see the concern in the hellfire dragon’s eyes and it made him wonder just how difficult this entire experience had been for Gray.

“I’m fine.”

Atlas frowned at the response, and for once he seemed to be at a loss for words. But he tried.

“We always knew he wouldn’t take it well. How could he?” Atlas nuzzled Gray’s head gently. “But as much as I hate to admit it, Igneel was right. We needed to do this. If we hadn’t, Acnologia would have killed them all. Remember that.”

“Yeah.” Gray said, although he didn’t sound very convincing. He watched Atlas walk away towards Natsu, the frown never leaving his face.

Gajeel noticed Sting watching Gray thoughtfully and got a bad feeling. Oh gods, he wasn’t dumb enough to bring that up, was he? Now of all times?! Rogue must have had the same idea because he grabbed on to Sting’s hand like a vise and shook his head.

It was Wendy who got up and approached Gray. She wrapped her arms around him as best she could and cried.

“Wendy?” Gray gawked at her. “What's wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m just so happy for you guys!” She smiled through her tears, “Now you can be together, just like before.”

“Well, not exactly like before.” Gray didn’t really feel like smiling, but he tried for her.

He was glad to see them. He’d missed all of them so much and had spent the last few years worrying about them. As he gazed from one to the other, he noticed all the changes with his newly enhanced eyesight, which he was slowly getting used to.

Gajeel looked to have changed the least, at least outwardly. His hair was a lot longer, but the biggest difference, as far as Gray could tell, was in the way he held himself. He exuded an even tougher air than he used to. Wendy looked nothing like the young girl she’d been when she’d left, although the war didn’t seem to have affected her sweet disposition any. Natsu had told him about Rogue’s legs, but it was still jarring to see it. And Sting, well, Sting looked like he had aged the most out of all of them.

“You all look so different.”

“We look different?” Gajeel scoffed, “That’s rich coming from the guy who turned into a dragon.”

“What kind of dragon are you?” Wendy asked. “You don’t look like any ice dragon I’ve ever seen.”

“We don’t really know. Atlas thinks I might be the equivalent of a hellfire dragon for ice dragons.” Gray shrugged his shoulders.

“That magic of yours sure came in handy,” Rogue chimed in, “Although it almost gave me a heart attack at first.”

“Sorry about that, I wasn’t sure how it would work.” Gray admitted, “To be honest, I was kind of winging it.”

“That was you winging it?” Sting finally spoke, peering at him in awe. “Damn! Those soldier dudes were badass.”

Gray nodded absently, becoming distracted by a scent that wafted towards him. It smelled familiar, but also different. He sniffed the air and searched for the source until determining it came from the red-haired woman that stood by Acnologia’s corpse, which had reverted to its human form after releasing all the souls he’d held captive.

“Is that Erza’s mother?”

“Yeah,” Wendy glanced over at the woman sadly.

“Is something wrong with her?”

“Not exactly, she began to dragonify, so she’s worried about how Erza and Anna will react to her appearance.”

“Dragonify? You mean like one of those renegades? Is it going to get worse?”

Wendy must have seen the distress on his face because she shook her head vehemently and immediately said, “No, no, nothing like that. Natsu removed her magic, so it won’t get any worse. But she has some red scales on parts of her body, kind of like Natsu did after-” Wendy’s voice drifted off and she looked away.

“Oh.” It was funny how his guilt over his past actions still lingered, but he chased it away. None of that mattered anymore, and he knew in his heart that neither Anna nor Erza would care one bit about what Irene looked like. They just wanted her back.

“I’ll go talk to her.”

He said that, but it was easier said than done, given the distance between them. Moving was getting easier, but he still felt so awkward. He made his way over to Irene slowly, gasping as she turned to look at him curiously.

She looked just like Erza!

Her hair was styled into two thick braids, and Gray couldn't help but notice that her outfit left just as little to the imagination as Erza’s requips. It was more ribbons than clothing, but that wasn’t even the most striking thing about her. That would have to be her face, or rather the large patch of torn skin that began just below her left eye and covered most of her cheek, revealing bright red scales underneath.

“You must be Gray, it’s nice to meet you finally. I have to say you look a little different from what I expected,” she said with a slight smile before turning back to the corpse and doing something that shocked him so much he forgot all about Erza and Anna.

Kneeling down, she closed Acnologia’s eyes and whispered, “May you find your way to peace.”

“How can you-” Gray stopped himself, realizing anything he said would only sound rude.

“How can I say that after everything he did?” Irene sighed. “I suppose it's because he wasn’t always like that. He was a good man once, before a dragon destroyed his village and killed all his loved ones. It changed him.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t agree with any of the things he did, and I would have killed him myself, given the chance. But even so,” she bowed her head. “I’d like to remember the good that once lived inside him.”

Gray sucked in a breath at her words, causing her to look up at him inquisitively. She stared at him for a moment, recognition suddenly dawning on her face.

“That’s right, Natsu mentioned something like that had happened to you as well. I’d like to say that the dragon slayer spell played a large part in what happened to him, but the truth is, Acnologia’s hatred was boundless. He fed it every chance he got, and in doing so, he created a literal monster.”

Her mouth curved up into a soft smile. “I’m happy to see you chose love instead.”

“I chose Natsu,” Gray said simply, not wanting to get caught up in a discussion of his past and how it may or may not compare to Acnologia’s.

He’d set his hatred aside once he’d finally understood how much pain it had caused Natsu over the years. Deliora was dead, and now Acnologia- who had devastated their lives in even more ways- was gone as well. Gray was content to let his hate die along with them. All he cared about now was being there for Natsu and helping him get through Igneel’s death.

He stepped closer to the body, curious to see what the man had looked like, but his nose instantly rebelled at the overwhelming stench of blood and guts the body exuded. He was about to leave when another more subtle scent caught his attention- a familiar one that was mixed in with the man's. It smelled of rain and those blue flowers that grew at the base of their mountain.

Juvia?

But what would Juvia be doing with Acnologia? He shook his head at the thought. That was ridiculous.

But was it?

Why else would her scent be on him? And what did they really know about Juvia’s mystery boyfriend? What was it she’d said?

Gray tried to remember her exact words, and he let out a groan as soon as he did.

Then Juvia met Logan, and he was very interested in Juvia and Juvia’s friends.

That sonofabitch!

He must have been using Juvia to spy on them all along!

A maelstrom of emotions engulfed him at the realization - rage at Acnologia for using Juvia when she was already vulnerable, guilt for telling her when Natsu was returning, and pity for the loneliness she felt that caused her to get into these situations.

Whatever the renegade had told Juvia to explain his absence, she would await his return.

And Gray knew exactly what it felt like to live in constant wait. Hoping and praying that the one you loved would come back to you. Standing in place while everyone around you went on with their lives. He couldn’t just sit back and let that happen to her. Not when he knew damn well “Logan” was never coming back.

He wanted to scream in frustration, knowing Natsu was holding on by a thin thread as it was. But as much as he loathed the idea, he knew what he was going to have to do, and just how much it was going to piss everyone off.

“Is something wrong?” Irene peered at him with concern.

Gray could only look back at where the slayers were sitting, and past them to where the red dragons were talking to Natsu.

Fuck my life...

0-0

When Erza woke up that morning, she’d barely been able to contain her excitement. After so many years spent worrying about her mother and childhood friends, her wait was finally over.

Lyon had teased her as they’d gotten ready, but he’d taken her to her favorite bakery for breakfast and then they’d gone for a walk around town before work. It was a beautiful day, with nary a cloud in the sky. A soft breeze played with their hair and clothes as she chatted about the welcome home party she wanted to throw for their family and friends.

As excited as she was, it took her a few minutes to realize Lyon had gone quiet, even longer to understand why.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry!”

“You’re fine.” Lyon chuckled, squeezing her hand. “I love to see you like this, and I am excited, too. I’m just feeling a little conflicted. It makes me glad to know Gray is happy. The gods know he deserves to be, but he’s my little brother and it makes me sad when I realize he won’t be a part of these things anymore.”

“I’m sure we’ll still see him.” Erza rested her head on Lyon’s shoulder, smiling when she felt him wrap his arm around her waist. “Honestly, the idea of those two being dragons is terrifying.”

“And just think, you won’t be able to keep them in check anymore,” Lyon said.

Erza stopped in her tracks. Oh gods, Lyon was right! She’d been the only one able to keep those two under control. Who was going to do that now? How much destruction would they be capable of during one of their squabbles now that they were both dragons?

“Relax, I was joking!” Lyon laughed, “They’ll be fine.”

Erza wasn’t as sure of that. She knew that while it would make Natsu happy to have Gray at long last, it would also devastate him to lose his father. She wished, not for the first time, that Natsu would have confided in her over the years. That she could have helped him through some of the things he’d held inside for so long. And more than anything, she hoped that he’d come see her so she could make him understand how much she still loved him.

But maybe it was time to take matters into her own hands. Now that everyone was coming home, she was done with worrying and waiting. If he wouldn’t come to her, then she would just have to go to him.

0-0

“Watch out!” Sting yelled as Gray came within a few inches of colliding with Happy.

Again.

“I’m doing my best.”

Sting held on to one of Gray’s fin spikes for dear life, even though it made him feel like his body was going to turn into a popsicle. He didn’t understand how Irene could remain so calm, and he honestly wished she’d stop interrogating Gray about Lyon so that he might at least focus more on his flying, which sucked royally.

To be fair, the guy had only been a dragon for a couple of hours, but still. Sting had lost count of how many times they’d almost crashed or suddenly lost altitude, and while Gray was apologetic, it did nothing to improve the feeling of impending doom Sting felt.

Although he knew a lot of that had more to do with the fact that they’d be home soon. As much as he’d tried to prepare himself mentally for any outcome, he still dreaded the disappointment he was sure to see on Anna’s face once she learned what he’d done. And he could only imagine how furious Erza and the other guards would be.

Sting knew he deserved all of it. After all, he’d put everyone in danger. He didn’t even want to consider what might have happened if Natsu hadn’t been there to fight Acnologia.

His biggest fear, though, was that the Talos village elders would decide to exile him. If that happened, he didn’t know what he’d do. He didn’t want to take Rogue away from his home, but he also knew his mate would refuse to stay without him.

Please, please let them forgive me. I will do anything…

Rogue’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

Everything’s going to be fine.

He turned his head to glance at his mate, who along with Gajeel rode atop Natsu, and flashed him a sheepish smile.

How did you know?

I don’t have to read your mind to know what you’re thinking. I know you… They’ll understand.

I hope you’re right.

I know I am. Have faith in them.

He could feel Rogue’s love pouring into him and it calmed him down some, right until Gray dropped a few hundred feet all at once. It was terrifying enough that Irene finally stopped with her questions.

“Gray!”

“Sorry! I’ve never flown holding anything before.”

“Yeah, well, no one asked you to bring him along.” Sting snapped, thinking back to the tense fight that had ensued when Gray had made his bizarre request to bring Acnologia’s body back with them.

All of them had been against it, but no one as much as Atlas. The fighting had only ended when Natsu came out in Gray’s defense. No one was about to argue with him in his state.

Sting sighed in defeat. Really, who was he to judge about doing the wrong thing for what felt like the right reasons?

“I’m sorry. I get what you’re trying to do, and it’s nice and all, but it burns me up that we’re bringing him home like some kind of war hero.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” Gray hissed. “I just want Juvia to move on.”

“I know. But have you given any thought to how she’s going to feel when she realizes she led him straight to us.”

“It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know!”

“Do you really think that’s going to make one bit of difference to her?”

“It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past and nothing is going to change it.” Irene joined the conversation, peering back at Sting with a knowing look. “If this Juvia feels guilty, she’ll just have to work through it while she grieves. Just like everyone else.”

“That wasn’t exactly subtle, Irene.” Sting grumbled.

“Wasn’t trying to be, dear.”

“Ugh, I don’t know if I can handle having two Erzas around again.”

“Oh Sting,” Irene chuckled, “You never could.”

“We’ll land in front of the village gates,” Natsu announced, and the dragons grunted their assent.

All but one.

“Hey, Gray?” Sting called out, trying not to let his sudden panic show in his voice.

“Hmmm?”

“You do know how to land, right?”

“Sort of?” Gray’s nervous chuckle in no way made him feel any better.

Oh well, he’d lived a good life. At least he got to see that fucker die before he bit it.

“I’m not worried at all,” Irene said as she patted Gray’s neck. “And I have to say if your brother is half the man you are - well, uhm dragon, I guess - then Erza is a very lucky girl.”

“He’s better,” Gray said. “I’d have never gotten this far if it hadn’t been for him. But I will forever deny having said that.”

Irene laughed. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“So, uhm, Wendy mentioned you were nervous about Anna and Erza seeing your scales.”

“I was, but almost dying earlier made me realize how silly I was being. I think everything will be okay.”

“Good, because I saw them last night, and they were really excited to see you.”

Sting tuned them out, paying more attention to their surroundings. It had been quite a while since he’d been home, but he recognized their mountains up ahead. They would be at the village in the next few minutes. He knew he was right when he felt Gray tense beneath him and Natsu appeared next to them.

Not a word passed between them, but as Gray made adjustments, Sting knew that Natsu was talking to him through their bond.

He reached out to Rogue through their own bond.

Nice knowing you!

Stop being so dramatic, he’s doing fine.

Sure, for someone who learned to fly in the astral realm, whatever the heck that is.

The sound of Rogue’s laughter was exactly what he needed to hear to relax.

I love you.

I love you too, dork. Might want to hold on now.

In the end, Gray mostly glided down, with Atlas and Natsu on either side of him. It wasn’t a bad landing overall. There had been plenty worse during the war, but Sting still felt the need to kiss the ground after he jumped down.

The village gates stood in front of him, looking slightly different from what he remembered, but still familiar.

Behind him, he could hear everyone else dismounting, as Natsu teased Gray about his flying skills while Happy and Atlas laughed along.

The rest of the dragon slayers joined him in staring at the doors, None of them making any effort to enter. Then Wendy grabbed onto his left hand, while Rogue took his right. One by one, they linked hands and squeezed tightly before taking that first step together.

They were home at last.

0-0

Erza didn’t know how it was possible, but this day felt longer than all the years she’d waited put together.

She’d managed to keep her good mood for most of the morning, but as the hours passed and there was no sign of the dragon slayers, she began to worry. Her mind filled with all sorts of worst-case scenarios, and no matter how hard she tried to dismiss each and every one as ridiculous, another would rear its ugly head to replace it.

She attacked her work with vigor, hoping to distract herself from her thoughts, and that worked for a time, until she ran out of things to do. Lunchtime came and went, but she remained in her office, too worried to be in the least bit hungry.

Where the hell were they? Why was it taking so long?

That sense that something was wrong was stronger than ever. But what could she do? She didn’t know what direction they were coming from, so even if she sent some guards to investigate, what would she tell them? Well, she could always-

A knock on her door interrupted her planning. She looked up from her desk to see Juvia standing at her door.

“Is Erza okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she lied, plastering a smile on her face. “How can I help you, Juvia?”

“Lyon was called away to deal with a disturbance in town. He asked Juvia to make sure Erza ate lunch.”

“Lunch?” As riled up as she was, the idea of food was unappetizing, so she tried to placate Juvia with another lie. “Oh, yes, thank you. I’ll be sure to grab something later.”

Juvia crossed her arms in front of her chest, and studied her, “Lyon said Erza would say that, and to not take no for an answer.”

“Did he now?” Erza made no attempt to hide her irritation. She’d never enjoyed being babied or handled. It was one of the quickest ways to ensure her wrath.

Just who did Lyon think he was, anyway? She’d taken care of herself just fine for years before meeting him. If he thought he could just come in and-

“Lyon also said to tell Erza he’d asked the cook to make strawberry cake for dessert today.”

Strawberry cake?!

She wanted to laugh at Lyon’s blatant attempt to manipulate her. Like she was so simple that she’d submit to his whims just because he’d asked the cook to make her favorite dessert.

It was just cake.

Sweet, moist, delicious cake with frosting and luscious fresh strawberries on top…

She tried to resist the temptation, but her stomach had already broken rank, grumbling its opinion on the matter, and whether she meant to or not, she was already walking towards Juvia.

“I suppose a quick break for lunch would be fine.” Erza ignored Juvia’s knowing smirk as she fell in step beside her.

“Erza’s friends will be home soon.” Juvia said, putting her arm around Erza’s shoulders and giving her a side hug. “Juvia just knows it!”

“Let’s hope so.”

The dining room was mostly empty, as everyone had already eaten. Lyon was true to his word. There was indeed a strawberry cake, and even better, the cook had saved two slices for her.

“Mind if I join you girls?”

Erza looked up from her dessert long enough to nod at Anna.

“I thought you’d be in your office,” Anna smiled.

“Can Juvia get Anna anything?”

“No, thank you. I was just going crazy waiting at the orphanage, so Andrius offered to watch the kids for a few hours.”

“Didn’t you get any sleep?” Erza asked, noticing the dark circles under Anna’s eyes.

“Not really, I started worrying about Gray, and that got me thinking about Igneel and Porly, which then led me straight to Natsu.” Anna sighed. “That poor boy, I can’t even begin to imagine how he’ll take it.”

“Yes, I thought about him this morning as well.”

“Why is Anna worried about Gray?” Juvia peered at Anna with obvious alarm. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, uhm, I-” Anna bit her lip, clearly not knowing how to respond to Juvia’s question.

Erza wasn’t doing much better. How much could she tell her? When he’d resigned a few days earlier, Gray had told everyone he and Natsu were moving away. She should have realized that meant he had no intention of telling Juvia about his actual plans.

“Anna worries about all of us. She can’t help it. After all, she raised most of us.” Erza tried to defuse the situation by acting purposefully obtuse. She cringed internally at her words, knowing how lame they sounded, but couldn’t come up with anything better.

“Yes, but it sounded like it was more than that.” Juvia insisted.

One of the younger guards, a woman by the name of Alyssa, chose that moment to run into the dining room, slamming into a table and cursing out in pain. All three of them winced in sympathy, but before Erza could ask her if she was alright, the girl yelled out.

“CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN!”

“There’s no need to yell, Alyssa. I’m right here. What is it? Do you have something to report?” Erza kept her composure, but she was tense. Could this be what she’d been waiting for?

“IT’S DRAGONS, MA’AM!”

“Dragons?” Erza jumped out of her chair, quickly followed by Anna and Juvia. “Where, how many?”

“FOUR DRAGONS, MA’AM, HEADED TOWARDS THE TOWN FROM THE NORTH.”

“Do you know if they were red dragons?”

“YES, MA’AM, THERE WERE-”

Erza didn't know what else Alyssa might have said because she ran out of the dining room as fast as she could. If they were red dragons, it had to be them!

She sprinted down the long hallway until she reached the doors, stopping only long enough to pull them open. She heard others running behind her and hoped the door didn’t hit them when she raced outside.

However long it had taken Alyssa to find her was enough time for the dragons to have landed in the grassy area in front of the village gates. Erza could see them clearly now. There were indeed four dragons, three red ones and a blue one with wings and horns made of ice that had to be Gray.

However, she filed that away for later, for as majestic as the dragons were, they were nothing to her when compared to the individuals who stood in a line in front of them. There was one among them Erza didn’t recognize, but once again, the details meant little to her at the moment.

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched them take a step forward together.

“You’re home,” she whispered.

And then, as if a spell had broken once she’d said the words, she yelled them out with all her might, wanting everyone to hear the joy that was in her heart.

“YOU’RE HOME!”

She lunged at them, not paying any attention to which one of them she tackled. Not that it mattered, as they all fell to the ground in a chorus of grunts and laughing complaints.

“Well, it’s nice to see you’re as impulsive as ever.” The sound of her mother’s laughter left her reeling, and she pushed herself up to search for her, taking a moment to see who was underneath her.

She could feel the blood rushing to her face as, to her dismay, she’d landed on the one person she didn’t know. She scrambled to get off him, and in her haste, landed back on the grass. “Oh gods, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t even worry about it.” the man said, waving at her with an amused grin. “I’m Oliver, by the way. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Erza nodded at him, too flustered to say anything else. There was a light tap on her shoulder and she looked up to see her mother offering her a hand up.

She grabbed hold of it and found herself pulled into a familiar embrace.

“I missed you so much,” Erza cried, holding her mother close.

“I missed you too.” Irene ran her fingers lightly through Erza’s hair, playing with it as she’d done when Erza was a child. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, sweetheart.”

They separated, and Erza got her first good look at her mother. It horrified her to see a patch of red dragon scales on her cheek, not because it marred her beauty, but because of what it could mean.

“Mother, those scales- are you?”

“Turning into a dragon? No.” Irene assured her. “I used a lot of dragon magic during the war, but Natsu removed the dragon slayer enchantment. It won’t get any worse.”

“If it bothers you, Atlas said he could create some sort of illusion spell-”

“No, you’re perfect!” Erza was so relieved to learn she wouldn’t lose her mother again that she crushed her to her chest in a violent hug.

“I’m not going anywhere, Erza. I promise.” Irene said once she’d regained use of her lungs.

All around them there were sounds of people laughing and yelling greetings and as much as she wanted to hold on to her mother for a little longer, she knew that there was someone else who had been awaiting her return just as anxiously.

“There you are!”

She turned at the sound of Lyon’s voice and saw him hurrying towards her, looking entirely out of breath. “I came as soon as I heard. Did you see your mom yet?”

“Indeed, she did,” Irene answered, moving to stand next to Erza and stopping Lyon in his tracks.

He gawked at her for a moment, seeming uncertain of what to do next, but Erza rescued him. She stepped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him to her side.

She felt a little anxious, remembering how intimidating her mother could be and knowing how easily flustered Lyon could get when he was nervous.

She really wanted him to make a good first impression.

“Mother, I’d like you to meet Lyon Vastia.”

Erza wanted to tell her everything wonderful about Lyon, but to her horror, she got tongue tied instead.

“I’m pleased to finally meet you,” Lyon said, bowing his head briefly in a gesture of respect before offering his hand. “I’m Erza’s husband,”

Erza watched her mother’s face nervously. It stunned her when Irene merely shook his hand with an amused smile. “The pleasure is all mine. A little dragon told me all about you on the way here.”

“A dragon?” Lyon sounded puzzled, and Erza could almost work out the second he figured out Irene was referring to Gray.

“You mean it really worked?”

“See for yourself,” Irene said, pointing at the blue dragon that Erza had noticed earlier. It stood some distance away from the crowd of people, along with the red dragon that had become their town’s protector.

The dragon they now knew was Natsu.

Erza tore her eyes away from the dragons to focus back on her mother, and she saw Lyon do the same, but Irene waved them away.

“Go to them, I’m not sure how much longer they’ll stick around.”

“Are you sure?” Erza hedged.

“Yes, we’ll talk more later. There’s someone else I need to say hello to. Assuming the kids let me anywhere near her, that is.” Irene said with a laugh.

It didn’t take long for Erza to sight Anna surrounded by Sting, Rogue, Wendy and even Gajeel. All of them were talking at once while Anna laughed at them and asked them to slow down.

It reminded Erza so much of their younger years, though back then she and Natsu would have been in there too, demanding their own slice of attention.

“She’s even more exquisite than I remember,” Irene mused.

“Aren’t you going to go to her?”

“In a bit, let them have their moment. I’ll have her to myself soon enough.”

She shooed them away, turning to greet one of the village elders.

0-0

“That really is him, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’d know that resting bitchface anywhere.”

“And I suppose yours is better?” Erza taunted, but Lyon only snorted in reply.

It didn’t take them long to reach the dragons. Lyon wasn’t all that surprised by Gray’s appearance, having seen the ice sculpture his brother had molded weeks earlier. Although even that paled compared to the real thing.

Lyon found himself mesmerized by the ice that made up Gray’s wings, horns, talons, and the tip of his tail. It was flawless and he couldn’t help but wonder what creations made of it would look like. But he shifted his focus to Erza as she slowly approached Natsu.

He could see the uncertainty on her face, and he couldn’t blame her. He knew how much she loved and missed Natsu. There was a lot of guilt mixed into her feelings as well, but he knew she’d face it as she did everything else.

Natsu relaxed slightly in their presence, but his expression remained guarded and he inched closer to Gray.

“Hello, Natsu,” Erza said, reaching her hand out tentatively. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hey Erza,” Natsu leaned into her hand for a moment, allowing her to pet his snout.

“I know this isn’t the time for long conversations, but,” Erza touched her hand to her heart. “I’d like to talk with you sometime, if that’s alright.”

Lyon watched with bated breath, waiting for Natsu’s response just as much as Erza.

“He wants to talk to her,” Gray told him. “He was just afraid of how she’d react. Now that he’s seen she’s not angry or scared of him, I think they’ll be fine.”

“Well, that’s good. I know she’s missed him terribly.” Lyon said, switching his attention to his brother. “I want to apologize to him for our last meeting as well, but I doubt he’d want to hear that now.”

“Probably not.” Gray agreed, “He’s been doing a little better, but I want to get him home.”

“I can hear you, you know.” Natsu complained, sounding much more like his usual self than Lyon had expected. He refrained from responding with one of his usual put downs, regardless.

Instead, he studied Gray and Natsu closely, pleased to see they already radiated that same bubble he’d always noticed around them. He was sure whatever happened next, wherever they went, they’d be alright. And that was all he’d ever wanted for them.

“Well then, we won’t keep you, there will be plenty of time to talk later.” Lyon backed away and tripped over something. He looked down at it with a puzzled expression.

“Just one thing before you go, though. What’s with the corpsicle?”

“Oh crap, I almost forgot about him.” Gray groaned. “That’s Acnologia. He ambushed them some miles from here. Atlas and I barely got there in time to help finish him.”

“You were in a fight already?!” Lyon sputtered.

“So that’s what happened,” Erza said, “I was wondering why Sting and the others looked like they’d been in a fight.”

“How can you sound so calm?!” Lyon protested, peering at Gray more closely in search of injuries.

“Don’t be such a worrywart. I’m fine. You realize I’m a dragon now, right? Plus, all of us fought him together.”

Lyon wanted to ask more about what had happened, remembering how terrifying that black dragon had been, but quickly realized it was better for his sanity if he didn’t.

“You’re trying to tell me that man is the black dragon that attacked the village?” Lyon examined the body again, feeling decidedly skeptical about what he was being told, and wondering what on Earthland would have possessed them to bring the corpse back here.

“Yeah, he was one of the renegade dragon slayers. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing he was.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I think he might also be Juvia’s mysterious boyfriend. Her scent is mixed up with his.”

“Her scent? Okay, first of all, that’s creepy. How do you even know what she smells like?”

“I just do. I know what you smell like too.” Gray replied crossly, “Would you like me to describe it?”

“Oh no, poor Juvia! She was crazy about him.” Erza interjected, trying to keep them from derailing into their usual pointless bickering.

Lyon searched for any sign of the water mage and found her by the village entrance, watching along with a few of the newer guards.

This was going to break her heart.

“I had to bring him back once I caught her scent on him.”

Lyon immediately understood what his brother was getting at. Gray had wanted to shield Juvia from suffering through what he’d felt while Natsu was off fighting, even if it hurt her.

Erza also looked in Juvia’s direction and sighed. “Just get out of here. We’ll deal with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you’d never planned on telling her about any of this,” Erza gestured at Gray’s body. “Besides, if he really was her boyfriend-”

“Well, that’s a lot to handle already.”

It took Lyon a moment to grasp everything Erza hadn’t said, and he couldn’t agree more with her assessment. He remembered Juvia joyously telling him about how Logan was so interested in everything to do with her, especially her friends.

“Off you go,” Lyon made a shooing gesture. “We’ve got this.”

“Won’t she know about the dragon thing, anyway?”

“No, the slayers have always kept any information about the dragons to themselves.” Erza reminded him, “Even I knew very little, and I grew up with them. I see no reason for that to change, especially now that the dragons want to be forgotten.”

Gray peered at Natsu, who nodded his agreement with Erza.

“I’ll leave it to you then,” Gray said. “Can you tell her- can you tell her I’m sorry?”

“Sure.”

“Natsu,” Erza implored, “Don’t be afraid to call for us if you need anything. We’re still your family.”

Natsu’s expressions softened slightly, and he offered a half smile in response.

They watched the two dragons fly off, Lyon snickering when he saw how sloppy Gray’s flying looked compared to Natsu.

Maybe he should hold off on getting that ride.

His thoughts turned to Juvia. He’d always been suspicious about the man’s refusal to cross the lake to come see her, but she’d seemed so happy. And he’d been glad that she’d finally put her obsession with Gray behind her, so he’d turned a blind eye. And that had almost proved fatal to their friends.

He intended to be a better friend to her while she mourned.

0-0

While they had flown the short distance home, Gray had worried about how Natsu would react to seeing the remnants of the spell, but Atlas had obviously expected that. He’d already removed all vestiges of it from sight.

He’d also dispelled all the furniture in their room save for the bed, which was now large enough to fit both of them comfortably. Natsu’s scarf lay folded neatly on top of it. Gray couldn’t tell if the temperature spell had been removed, as the cave’s heat didn’t seem to bother him anymore.

He was grateful for Atlas' actions, but it was also a tad disconcerting. It felt like his previous life had been erased, and he didn’t know how to feel about that. Natsu hadn’t said a word since they’d left and that worried him a bit as well, but he’d left it alone knowing he shouldn’t expect anything different. He had no idea how many memories Natsu had of Igneel in this cave, but Gray was sure he was thinking about all of them.

He could still recall how he’d felt immediately after Deliora had killed his parents, and while he knew Natsu had grieved for his mother, he’d never really known her. This type of grief was different. It would take time to heal, but that wasn’t a huge deal. After all, time was something they now had plenty of.

Natsu made no remark about their room being different, just walked in and curled up on the bed, with his head resting on the scarf. It would have been adorable if it wasn’t for the sadness in his eyes.

Lie with me?

It had been a long, emotionally draining day, and Gray had to admit he was exhausted as well.

Always.

Gray joined his husband on their bed, smiling happily when he felt Natsu coil their tails together. He cuddled him, murmuring sweet nothings and reveling in how perfectly they fit together. They soon fell into a deep sleep.

0-0

Gray woke before Natsu and, deciding to let him sleep a while longer, he ventured out of their room in search of food. Hearing an unfamiliar noise, he tracked it down to a room he’d never entered before. Inside it, Sting was packing up his and Rogue’s belongings into boxes.

“You guys are moving out?”

“Oh, hey man, you’re finally up.” Sting said, looking up from the box he was working on. “Yeah, it’d be kind of uncomfortable for Rogue to make the trek every day, unless he went, you know, shadow form.”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Sting waved away his apology. “Anyway, we found an apartment to rent in town, close to that bakery Rogue likes and to the Guard Headquarters. We moved in a couple of days ago.”

“Wait, days? How long were we out?”

“About three days. It's been raining, so I hadn’t been able to grab our stuff yet.”

Three days?!

Gray knew they’d been tired, but damn. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m starving.”

Sting laughed, “You’d better get used to it, you have a dragon’s stomach now.”

“I have a dragon’s everything now,” Gray pointed out smugly.

“Including their sense of humor, I see.” Sting rolled his eyes.

“So what else did we miss while we slept?” Gray asked, leaning against the cave wall.

“Oh plenty. Let’s see,” Sting began counting off on his fingers. “Anna was reinstated as a Village Elder, and she and Irene got engaged. Gajeel and Wendy also rented apartments in town, they’re right next to each other though, so Oliver’s screwed. Speaking of which, he took over your spot in the Guard and Erza moved him into your old apartment.”

“That’s fine, it’s not like I'm ever going to use it again. Did everyone else go back?”

“Most of us did. Rogue is going to help Erza part-time while he figures out what he wants to do. Wendy will help out in emergencies, but she’s mostly going to work at the orphanage with Anna and continue to train as a healer. Talos hasn’t had a powerful healer since Natsu’s mom died.”

“Hey, uhm, how is he?” Sting was still looking at his hands when he asked, but Gray could hear the worry in his voice.

“He’s still asleep. He didn’t say much when we got back.”

“I’m not all that surprised by that. He’d already run himself ragged even before we left. Plus, you know- everything. He must’ve been exhausted.”

“He was.”

It touched Gray to know that Sting still cared for Natsu, but he didn’t like discussing his mate with him. It was awkward, and he didn’t want to get caught in the middle of their fight. He’d already tried to get Natsu to talk to Sting before he’d left, and that was as far as he was willing to go. This was something they’d have to sort out for themselves.

So he tried to change the subject.

“Do you happen to know how Juvia’s doing?”

“Well, like I said, it rained nonstop for the past couple of days, but the sun came out today, so I guess she must be doing better. You should ask Irene or Erza. I heard they talked to her.”

That was something, at least, although he wasn’t sure if learning more about who Logan was would help. Gray just hoped that whoever she set her sights on next would be someone more deserving of her affections.

He wondered what they’d done with Acnologia’s body. He knew Atlas had wanted to incinerate it personally, he’d made that much painfully clear during their fight.

“Do you think we could talk for a minute?”

Gray blinked at him blankly. “I thought we were talking.”

“Yes, no, I mean talk about what happened. You know, what I did.”

To his credit, Sting didn’t look away, even though he was obviously uncomfortable.

“Sting, you don’t have to.” Gray tried to wave him away. He’d already forgiven him.

Now that everything was over, he didn’t see the need to carry a grudge. And if he was being honest, if it had been Natsu who had been in danger, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do anything different.

“Please, I need to apologize to you.” Sting begged, “I understand Natsu may never be able to forgive me, but I feel so terrible about how I fucked up your lives. Gods, and after I gave you that if you hurt him speech, too.”

“I honestly don’t think that there was anything else you could have done, and I know Natsu understands that too. If you need to hear it, I’ll be happy to say it. I forgive you. And who knows, maybe with time Natsu will too. But even if he never does, you need to stop torturing yourself and just move on from this whole fucking mess.”

“I know, I’m working on it. I already told Erza and the Elders about what I did.”

Gray sucked in a breath, “Oof, how did that go?”

“About as badly as I’d expected. The Elders wanted to kick me out of town, but Irene and Erza came out in my defense. So, I’m not the most popular guy in town right now, and I’ll be pulling the crappiest job details indefinitely, but I can stay and that’s all I could have hoped for.”

“That’s great.” Gray gave Sting a knowing glance. “This mate stuff is brutal, huh?”

“But it’s worth it.”

Gray couldn’t agree more.

“I’m gonna go figure out something to eat before you start looking edible.”

“Oh, one last thing!” Sting snapped his fingers. “The town is throwing a big celebration tomorrow night, and they wanted to invite the dragons to take part.”

“I’ll let them know.” Gray said, and with a wave he left to check on Natsu, smiling at Sting’s whispered Thank you.

It felt good to let it all go.

0-0

Rogue looked up as Sting entered their apartment, looking sweaty and disheveled and carrying far too many boxes. He got up to help, but Sting shook his head, holding the door open for someone Rogue couldn’t see as they were behind a stack of boxes.

It turned out to be Oliver, looking just as flushed as Sting. He uttered a cryptic ‘Don’t forget what you promised’ to Sting before waving goodbye to Rogue and heading out.

“What was that about?”

“Oh,” Sting chuckled nervously, “I sort of bribed him to help with the promise of distracting Gajeel so that he could spend some time with Wendy without him hovering. So I guess we’ll be having him over soon.”

He put the boxes down and collapsed on their sofa, and Rogue hurried to bring him a glass of cold water.

“You got the fridge working?”

“No, Lyon stopped by earlier and molded an enormous block of ice to keep in there for now.”

“This place is a shithole,” Sting sighed.

“It’s not so bad, and it’s close to the bakery,” Rogue reminded him.

“I’m sorry, love. It’s all my fault that no one would rent to us. I’m sure this place is nowhere near where you imagined us living.”

“Sting,” Rogue said, in fond exasperation. “We’ve lived in a cave for longer than I can remember. We’ve either slept on the ground or on magical furniture designed by a dragon who had zero concept of human comfort. This is fantastic. Besides, I told Erza how much the guy was charging us and I’ve never seen her leave a room so fast. I expect our rent will go down shortly.”

Sting gaped at him and then erupted into a fit of giggles, “Well, when you put it that way.”

“There is only one thing I require anywhere I live, and this place has it in spades.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Rogue didn’t know if Sting was being purposefully dense or not, but considering how rough the last couple of days had been for him, he didn’t mind boosting his ego a little.

“You, stupid. You’re all I need to be happy.”

“And wine?”

Rogue snorted, “Yes, you and wine. Speaking of which, Lyon dropped off a few bottles as a housewarming present when he came by. Would you like some?”

“Fuck, yeah!”

Rogue opened the fridge and pulled a bottle out quickly, not wanting to let too much warm air in. He didn’t bother with any cups, just removed the cork and brought the bottle back to the sofa with him.

Sting had already shifted on the sofa so he was lying on it, his legs slightly spread so Rogue could lie between them. He handed the bottle over while he got comfortable. Sting took a swig and handed it back.

“This is good.”

Rogue agreed once he’d tasted it, although given how little wine he’d been able to get his hands on since they’d left, he wouldn’t have been all that picky about quality.

Lyon, however, had always had excellent taste. Something Rogue had learned during nights spent sneaking drinks in the barracks while riding out some punishment or another.

It became a tradition of sorts for them, and it was one he hoped they could pick back up again, minus the punishments, of course.

Sting ran his fingers through Rogue’s hair, tugging on it and massaging his scalp as they continued to pass the bottle back and forth. It felt wonderful and the combination of that and the wine were making him feel incredibly relaxed.

“You know, it feels kind of strange.”

“What does?” Rogue murmured.

“Just lying here like this,” Sting said. “Not having to worry about being attacked, ambushed, or even seen. I like it.”

“Hmm, I do too. We can do anything we want now. Gives me a few ideas.”

“Oh yeah? Any in particular?”

Rogue heard Sting put the bottle down on the floor and grinned. He turned until he was facing his mate and leaned in for a kiss, sucking gently on Sting’s bottom lip before delving inside his parted lips.

Sting wrapped his arms around Rogue’s waist, pulling their bodies closer as they kissed.

“Hmm, I like that idea.” he said, chasing Rogue’s mouth as he pulled back to peer down at him mischievously.

“Yeah? Well, I’ve got plenty more,” Rogue assured him. “And a lifetime to try them out.”

“I’ll be right here with you.” Sting promised solemnly, pulling Rogue back down for a kiss of his own.

0-0

Natsu stood at the entrance to Igneel’s room.

Atlas had told him his father had left him a letter, but he hadn’t worked up the courage to read it until now. He could see the long parchment on the desk, along with the writing supplies his father had favored. Natsu had so many memories of Igneel in this room, working away on a spell or writing messages for the dragons to take with them to the war front.

Knowing he’d never see him there again, well, it was crushing, but he couldn’t hide from it any longer.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” Atlas wandered out of his room and eyed him with concern.

“No,” Natsu said, after giving it some thought. “This is something I need to do by myself.”

“Alright, but I’m right next door if you need me.”

Natsu knew that both Atlas and Gray were walking on eggshells around him at the moment, both worried about how he felt about them going along with Igneel’s plan and it saddened him to see it. He wasn’t quite feeling like himself, that much was true, but he loved both of them deeply and he knew that anything they might have done, it had been for his sake. And how could he really fault them for that?

To be honest, he wasn’t sure what he was hoping to find in that letter, but it felt like he was drowning in his loss and he wanted to find the strength to move forward.

And Igneel had always been good at giving him direction.

That wasn’t fair, though. At some point, he had to grow up and decide his own path, beginning with easing the minds of those he held dearest.

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Natsu said, “Although I wish you had told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Atlas’ fire dimmed, reflecting his mood, and he moved to enter his room.

“Hey,” Natsu called out, suddenly worried by how meekly Atlas had been acting. “You’re not planning on doing anything stupid, are you?”

“Always, kid. But I have no plans to go anywhere, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re stuck with me.”

Atlas’ smile was but a shadow of his usual one, but it heartened Natsu to see it.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Natsu grumbled, hugging his uncle as hard as he could, just to feel him against him.

Atlas hugged back just as hard until finally pulling away and gently shoving Natsu towards the entrance. “Get in there, already.”

Natsu took one step, then another, and everywhere he looked, the ghosts of his memories comforted him with their warmth.

0-0

“I thought I’d find you here.” Gray huffed, catching his breath from having climbed up the mountain.

“Did you seriously just climb up the mountain?” Natsu gawked at him. “Why didn’t you just fly?”

“Cause I suck.”

To his chagrin, Natsu didn’t disagree with him, but he laughed out loud and that made Gray’s hardship worth it.

Natsu patted the ground next to him invitingly. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

Gray plopped next to his mate and gazed up at the sky. It was indeed beautiful to watch as the sun’s last rays mingled with the stars. But he was more concerned with Natsu and he studied him, trying to figure out what was going on. He didn’t feel any of the sadness that had been present earlier.

“Are you okay? You’re acting-” Gray struggled to find a word that wouldn’t be misconstrued.

“I take it Atlas told you I read the letter?”

“Yeah. Do you want to talk about it?”

Natsu nodded, staring off at the sky as he collected his thoughts.

“He told me about everything. Your struggles in the astral realm, how you and Atlas both fought with your decisions, and all the guilt he felt over his mistakes.”

“There was so much I didn’t know about him, and some of it hurt because I never understood how truly lonely he felt over the years. But most of all, what I saw in that letter was how much he loved me and how determined he was that I have the life that he only got the barest glimpses of.”

“And that’s what I want too. I want to live that life with you.”

Natsu rested his head on Gray’s shoulder. “I love you, Princess.”

“I still can’t believe you gave up everything to be with me. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”

“It wasn’t as hard as you might think.” Gray admitted, and it was true. Once he’d let go of his fears, it had been a simple decision to make. “I love you too, Natsu. So much it scares me sometimes. If there was any chance we could be together like this, I had to take it. I was just worried you’d hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you. You’ve always been everything to me.” Natsu lowered his head. “That’s why I could never really let you go, even when I knew it was what was best for you.”

Gray wasn’t having that. He lifted Natsu’s head so that he could look into his eyes, and see how serious he was. “And now, you’ll never have to.”

Natsu frowned, looking uncomfortable with his next words. “You know we can’t stay here forever, right? We’ll have to move to the island.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? I already figured as much, dummy.”

“We can come visit during the summer solstice, though. I’ll have to leave the island anyway.”

Now that he hadn’t counted on, and it pleased him to learn he’d get to see his friends at least once a year.

“Hey, do you think I’ll change too?”

“We won’t know until then, but it could happen.” Natsu grinned just thinking about it. “That'd be pretty fun. But we’ll definitely need to work on your flying just in case you don’t. That would be a pretty pathetic way for me to die.”

“Jerk,” Gray grumbled at Natsu’s teasing. “You know, I seem to remember you were pretty ticklish as a human, I wonder…”

He pounced, attempting to catch Natsu off guard.

Dragons, apparently, weren’t ticklish at all, but Gray didn’t care because soon they were wrestling around, nipping and scratching as they each sought to pin the other down. It was more difficult than he expected, but that was probably because neither one of them could seem to stop laughing.

And all Gray could think about, besides gaining the upper hand, was just how much he’d missed this. Playing together and just having fun, without the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders. For the first time since Natsu had left him to go fight, he finally felt like everything was going to turn out alright.

They continued until they were both laid on their backs, spent and out of breath.

“I’m so going to get you next time, Flame Brain.” Gray panted, repeating a taunt as familiar as it was empty.

“In your dreams, Ice Princess.” Natsu said with his usual fanged grin.

Gray rolled onto his belly, his attention caught by a movement in the sky. “Hey, is that a shooting star? Hurry, make a wish.”

“I have nothing left to wish for.” Natsu said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he righted himself and gazed at Gray with awe.

Stupid romantic dragon!

He’d never tire of the way Natsu always knew exactly what to say to make him feel all flustered.

Gray draped his body over Natsu’s, hugging him to his chest so that he wouldn’t see the blood he could feel rising to his face. He’d recently discovered that his favorite thing about being a dragon was his tail. He loved how it instinctively sought Natsu’s whenever they touched, just as it did now.

Sitting here, doing nothing more than staring at the stars, it was perfection.

It had taken them years, more than Gray cared to remember. Both of them had made mistakes, but against all odds, they had been granted a second chance to find their home in each other.

And they lived happily ever after…

THE END

Thank you for reading!

#fairy tail #gratsu #stingue #update #the red dragon fanfic #final chapter

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the-middle-grounds · 4 years ago

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So now that I have energy and have rewritten this about 5 times! Blind (and colorblind) Batfam!

*I tried to be as sensitive about how I wrote this since I’m not 100% familiar with the blind community (I know basic etiquette) so if I did something bad or inappropriate, send me an ask with where and what can be fixed!

BRUCE

Bruce’s occipital lobe was severely damaged during the murder of his parents, and he was blinded as a result.

He got Ace, a service dog, to help him with the trauma, as well as helping him get around whenever he wasn’t in the mood to be with Alfred. The two of them are close.

Bruce eventually started hearing about echolocation in humans, and started to learn about that and even using it. He’s so proficient in it, he doesn’t even really need Ace anymore, but there’s not a chance in hell he’s getting rid of his best bud.

People know Bruce Wayne is blind, and they try to use it to their advantage. Bruce is smarter than that, and is very much aware of how shallow people are.

Most people don’t know that Batman is blind, however. Catwoman is one of the notable people who know, and whenever she’s being playful, she likes to sneak up on him and surprise him.

The Justice League also know, but don’t treat him any differently because why would they? Dr. Mid-Nite exists for one.

DICK

Dick lost his vision when Hayley’s Circus was set on fire. While escaping, he was hit by debris and blinded. By the time he’s a young adult, the scarring is pretty much gone.

In an effort to help out Dick, Bruce helped developed a device that could pinpoint noises. Dick then proceeded to thank Bruce by using it to get into trouble and play hide-and-seek.

Bruce eventually stopped using Dick as a guinea pig, and offered up the tech to the public. Dick still kept his, however; even when he left to join the Teen Titans.

Since Dick likes to drop several dozen feet off buildings, Bruce actually shed a few tears when Tim gave him more advanced echolocation tech. Dick will never admit how many times he miscalculated because of rain.

Bruce has seen his hospital bills; he knows.

JASON

Jason was born blind, and since he was a street kid with not so great parents, had to learn to get around by himself. He was pretty good at it too, and was stealing the Batmobile’s tires when Batman arrived. Jason tried to beat him up, and he made a real good effort too.

Jason got used to using the tech after a while, though he prefers only using it for fighting.

When he came back to life, he ended up becoming better at hand-to-hand without the use of technology. But he does use it for accuracy whenever he aims.

People have lied to Jason and told him he’s put his helmet on the wrong way around. These same people have gotten said helmet pelted in the direction of their face.

TIM

Tim and Cassandra both have a degenerative eye disease. When Tim found out Batman’s identity, he insisted that Bruce take him on because they weren’t too close from different.

Tim later ended up improving on Bruce’s tech, and even customized some for the others.

Tim eventually went completely blind, but he’s adjusted just fine.

His favorite thing to do is get carried by Kon for a flight. That and doing a Dick Grayson and gliding off buildings.

Tim is very much still tech savvy, working off muscle memory and occasional assistance whenever he needs it. Admittedly, it’s pretty rarely. But you will never see him ask Barb or Steph for anything involving colors.

BATGIRLS

Barbara has monochrome colorblindness, and Bruce didn’t realize it until he realized she kept describing colors by how dark they were. This led to a bunch of reminiscing about colors, and Dick even joined in to describe colors to her.

Whenever Bruce pisses her off, Barbara realigns things ever so slightly. Bruce could care less, but Dick will trip over something and play it off like it was a stunt.

After her incident with Joker, Barbara took to the moniker of Oracle, and her colorblindness was hardly a hold back for her.

Cassandra did manage to retain some of her eyesight. As it stands, she can see somewhat, but it’s all pretty blurry. She wears glasses most of the time, but prefers fighting with the tech Tim designed.

Because they can’t use sign language with Cass, she had a rough time learning to fit in. Eventually, they learned to communicate through morse code and occasional fingerspelling.

Even though Cass learned to speak, she still prefers morse code with her friends and family.

No one (except Barbara) actually realized what form of blindness Steph had until she asked Barbara if waffles were pink. It turned out she had Tritanopia.

Steph and Barbara tried out colorblindness glasses once and Barbara lost her shit.

“I THOUGHT THIS WAS PURPLE!” “I don’t know what to tell you except that that’s 110% dark blue.”

Cass has to tell the other two which colors they’re looking at whenever they hang out. Specifically when they start debating colors.

DUKE

Duke, like Jason, was also born blind. He’s also the only one who uses a cane for when he walks.

Unlike the others, however, Duke doesn’t need to use any external devices to see; his powers work well with sound and allow him to move around just fine. (I know his powers focus on light, which would require him to see, but I changed it slightly for this AU.)

Rather than ‘seeing’ in color/definition, Duke perceives shapes and figures in something like a bunch of different parts of sound altogether.

Duke has the ability to ‘steal the light’ out of people’s eyes, and temporarily blind them so they’re on the same playing field.

People typically know when Duke is coming because of the sound of his cane moving around. But he once scared Bruce because he didn’t use it and Bruce didn’t hear him coming.

Duke is still a great writer, though he obviously writes in braille. His teachers love him.

Some people don’t even realize Duke is blind unless they watch his eyes; they’re unfocused and occasionally ‘wander’.

DAMIAN

Damian lost his sight as a young child. Talia was regretful, and put a lot of attention on Damian to help him. Damian disliked the babying behavior, and felt as though Ra’s was disappointed in him.

Talia sent Damian to Bruce because she knew about how he had learned to adjust to his disability.

Damian was LIVID. He hated everything, he would throw fits, and he hated every- oh hey is that a dog.

Damian got Titus, and over time, began to settle into the family.

Damian initially refused the echolocation tech, but took it because it was helpful for fighting. Over time, he learned how to work with and without it.

Damian once offhandedly admitted to Jon that he couldn’t remember colors, and Jon sat with him for over an hour describing colors.

Eventually, Damian started getting into abstract forms of art and presented them to everyone. Since he couldn’t see what he drew, he took to 3D pieces for his family and friends. No one even cares what they look like, they all love everything he makes.

Jason is jealous that Damian got a dog but he didn’t.

MISC

They keep playing hide-and-seek and Bruce is tired.

Except for Barbara and Steph, everyone is very sensitive to sound, and it is most definitely their biggest weakness. Meanwhile, Barb and Steph keep getting blinded by flash bangs and other bright things.

Damian keeps sneaking animals into the house because he knows they won’t see it. What he keeps forgetting is that roosters scream in the morning, and they can hear that.

In-family fighting is an absolutely insane event. Things have been thrown and people have fallen down things that shouldn’t have been fallen down. Dick once tried to pull apart a fight between Tim and Damian and he honestly can’t tell if he slapped Tim or if Damian did it.

They can all tell each others footsteps apart easily, and can even tell who’s arguing even if their in the Batcave and the argument is in the attic.

Someone keeps moving containers out of the typical places, and the finger pointing is always at optimal level. Alfred is just as frustrated.

Bruce is tired.

They also save a lot on electricity!

#Blind as Bats AU #Batfam #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Barbara Gordon #Tim Drake #Cassandra Cain #Stephanie Brown #Duke Thomas #Damian Wayne #Bruce Wayne

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iamakiller · 4 years ago

Text

Zoom call with Henry

Today, Mom talks with Dad for ages. She makes Henry leave the room like always, ordering him to go play, and she closes the door behind him. As if that ever stops Henry from being able to hear everything she says. She always talks in such a loud voice to Dad.

But today, her voice is really quiet. Even with his ear pressed flat against the door, the only words he can make out are right at the end of the conversation: “I just don’t want you to tell him yet, Charlie. We both know what you’re like. He’ll only be disappointed.”

Henry knows she’s talking about him, but he doesn’t understand what she means.

When Mom opens the door again, he’s sitting in the middle of the hallway with his colored pencils and sketchpad, deeply engrossed in his latest masterpiece.

“Henry? Do you want to talk to Dad?”

Henry’s heart leaps with excitement. He tears off the page he’s been working on and brings it with him, leaving the rest of his mess on the floor. He bounds into the office and climbs into the comfy leather chair, wiggling around until he’s comfortable. His feet almost but not quite touch the ground. Grandma said the other day that he’ll be as tall as Dad soon, and Mom gave her a look that Henry didn’t get.

There’s a lot he doesn’t understand sometimes. Grownups are strange, he thinks. Especially his parents.

“Hi Dad!”

“Hello, Henry.” Dad’s little smile is the same as ever, but he looks tired today. The same kind of tired as when he was sleeping on the couch, when him and Mom thought Henry didn’t know. “How are you today?”

“GOOD!” Henry happily rattles off a list of all the fun things he did. A playdate at the park with Josh. Frozen yogurt on the way home. Helping to bake cookies to take to Grandma’s tomorrow. Mom even let him lick the spoon because he’d done such a good job of measuring out the ingredients without making a mess. The only dark spot on the horizon is the bath that Mom has been threatening him with since this morning, but Henry thinks he can probably sweet-talk her into an hour of video games if he goes without protest, so it’s not all bad.

He has to take a big gulp of air at the end, because he’s forgotten to breathe in his excitement to tell Dad everything all at once. “How about you, Dad? It’s late there, right? Did you and Britt do something fun today? Is she there? Can I talk to her?”

Something weird happens. Dad flinches, like Henry does when Mom catches him doing something he knows he shouldn’t do. But when he starts talking, it’s completely normal. “Britt’s not here, honey. We were both very busy doing different things today. She’s been … planning something. And I’ve been working on my writing. Well, trying to.”

Dad picks up a funny-shaped glass of something red, and takes a long swig of it. He told Henry once that it’s grape juice for adults. Henry asked Mom about it afterwards, and she said something about Dad being just like his parents. But that can’t be right, because Dad doesn’t have any parents. That’s why Henry only has one grandma, right?

Dad likes to write like Henry likes to draw. It’s his favorite thing to do, and he does it a lot. Henry can sit silently so much better than any of his friends, because he learned very early on that if he could be still and quiet, he could sit with his dad for as long as he wanted to. He loves visiting Dad in New York. Going out and doing a million different activities is so much fun! But the best times are when they’re in Dad’s study, and Henry is sprawled out on the rug with his pencils and sketchpad, doodling whatever comes into his imagination. He likes hearing the sound of Dad’s fingers flying over the laptop keyboard, and the way he occasionally mutters to himself while he thinks. And he really likes the way Dad will often close his laptop with a frustrated sigh, and come sit on on the floor next to Henry, and listen to him talk for hours about whatever he’s been working on.

Speaking of which, Henry has something he wants to show him. “Dad, look! I drew this for you!” He holds up the picture he finished only moments ago.

Dad peers at the screen, makes an impatient sound, and then reaches off to the side, retrieving his glasses and putting them on. For a moment, he tilts his head to one side, and then the other. “Why don’t you talk me through it,” he suggests eventually, his voice very kind.

Henry huffs. Isn’t it obvious? Dad must have really bad eyesight. Probably because he’s so old. “This is you,” he says, pointing at the tallest figure, who has very long legs. “You’re wearing black, of course.” He points to the next largest person, with long hair. “This is Britt. She’s wearing her favorite big cardigan. And in the middle, it’s me.”

Dad nods slowly and appreciatively. “Very nice. Your grasp of proportions is improving, and everyone has the correct number of fingers this time. But can you explain why we are surrounded by so many dinosaurs?”

“Because we’re at the Museum of Natural History!” It’s Henry’s favorite place in New York, aside from Dad’s study, and maybe that pizza place they go to every time he visits.

“Ah. Of course. Silly me. And … what is that strange looking dinosaur in the middle between you and Britt?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “DAD!” he complains. “That’s not a dinosaur! That’s the baby!”

There’s a spluttering sound as Dad, who is halfway through another mouthful of his “juice”, begins to choke. “W-what?” he stutters eventually, grabbing a tissue and wiping frantically at the front of his sweater.

This is it. Henry’s big chance.

“Well … Josh’s Mom had a baby during lockdown. She brought it to the park today and it was so cute, and Josh says it’s annoying and cries all night, but I think he’s just jealous because HE still wants to be the baby, and I actually think it would be really fun to be a big brother, so I asked Mom but she said absolutely not, so basically you and Britt should have a baby so I can play with it and teach it all about dinosaurs and show it how to read and write and draw.”

Henry runs completely out of steam at the end of his big speech, and has to take another of his massive gasps of air as he’s started to feel a bit lightheaded.

Just for a moment, there’s a strange expression on Dad’s face. He almost looks sad. But then he’s smiling again, although he still looks tired. “Now, Henry. That’s rather a big ask. There’s an awful lot more to take into account than you wanting a sibling, I’m afraid.”

“But Dad – I asked Mom where babies come from, and she said that when a man and a woman love each other very much, they can have a baby. And you and Britt love each other very much, right? So you can have a baby, RIGHT? By Christmas would be great. It can be my present, instead of a replacement for the Nintendo Switch I lost last time I was there.”

Dad is laughing now. Properly laughing, like he hardly ever does. It’s hard to imagine how sad he looked a minute ago. Maybe Henry just imagined it … “Henry, it takes an entire nine months for a baby to grow in a woman’s tummy. Even if we were to acquiesce to your request immediately, there’s no way we could produce a baby by December. Indeed, at the very most, Britt would merely be looking slightly round in the middle by Christmas …” He tails off for a moment, as if lost in thought, with a little smile on his face. But then he shakes his head slightly and continues talking. “The answer’s no, honey. You will get your new Nintendo Switch, and that Goose game you’ve been talking about nonstop, and you will be grateful.”

Henry pouts. “BUT DAD …”

“No.”

Henry tries a different approach. “I love you, Dad. I miss you …”

“Nice try.” Dad folds his arms across his chest. “But that pout you wield originated with me, and you should know by now that it holds no power over me. The answer’s still no. However, I do love you an immense amount. And I miss you. Very, very much.”

Dad looks a little bit sad again. Henry feels sad now, too. He really does miss him. Mom is great, but Dad gives the best hugs.

Suddenly, Mom’s voice calls out from the hallway, loud enough for him and Dad to both hear. “Henry? It’s getting late. You need to finish up and take a bath before bedtime.”

NOOOOOOOO.

Henry doesn’t want any hecking bath! And he isn’t done talking, either. He casts his mind around, trying to think of a way to stall for time. Finally, something strange Dad said earlier comes back to him, and he decides to ask for further clarification. “Dad? I have a question.”

He knows Dad knows that he’s stalling because Dad’s super smart. But he also knows that he doesn’t mind. He never wants their calls to end, either. “Yes, honey?”

“How exactly does the baby get into the woman’s tummy?”

Dad’s eyes widen for a second. Then he grins. “Why don’t you ask your mother,” he suggests, voice loud enough for Mom to hear him from the hallway. “She knows all about it.”

***

Twenty minutes later, Henry is wallowing in the bath. It isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. (It never is.) Mom let him choose one of her Lush bath bombs, so the water is pink and sparkly, and covered in a thick layer of foam. At least twelve of his dinosaur figurines have joined him for moral support.

As he lines them up along the side of the tub in alphabetical order, his mind wanders to something Mom shouted just as Dad finished the call. What’s a bastard? he wonders. She uses that word a lot when she talks about Dad.

Mom said that when a man and a woman love each other very much, they can have a baby. But Mom and Dad haven’t ever seemed to even like each other very much. So Henry can’t help but wonder how he came to be. Maybe Mom got it wrong, though that doesn’t seem likely. Maybe Henry misunderstood. That’s probably right.

There’s a lot he doesn’t understand sometimes. Grownups are strange, he thinks.

Especially his parents.

#10/10/20 #21:00

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writingmessynaruto · 4 years ago

Text

Rescue Me from Calculus

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Comfortember: Day 1

Prompt: Rescue

Read on AO3

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Class was running so much longer than Sakura remembered. It was actually unbelievable how slow time went in this class. Sakura already knew everything she needed to know about calc in order to pass, right now if she had to. But she couldn’t skip it. It was a required course, she couldn’t test out of it (for some stupid reason), and attendance was part of the grade. As if that made any sense. She really just wanted to go home and have lunch.

Staring at her laptop, pretending to take notes, she glanced up. A few rows ahead of her, Uzumaki Naruto was watching a baseball game on his laptop while the professor droned on, completely unaware. Everyone within eyesight was also watching the game. So Sakura wasn’t the only one who was bored. But she didn’t really like baseball either.

Still, she stared at the screen. It was better than nothing. With the sound of the professor in the background going on and on about basic derivatives, Sakura watched as Naruto’s team of choice managed to pull ahead of their competitors. Then, when the game had become boring for him, too, Naruto took silent requests, and pulled up a basketball game from a year ago. No, it was a compilation; the best moments in college basketball. Sakura lowered her head onto her desk for only a short moment.

This was horrible.

The tap of a pen on her back roused her attention. She sat up and turned to look behind her.

Yamanaka Ino. This was where she normally sat. And Ino wasn’t as confident in calculus as Sakura, it was clear. It was only week two, and that was about the only thing Sakura knew about Ino.

Well, besides the fact that she was really, really pretty.

“Are you taking notes?” Ino whispered nervously.

Sakura had been looking for an in on Ino for quite some time. Two weeks to be exact. She always took notes at the beginning of her classes, just in case she didn’t actually know something, or by coincidence just in case Ino needed to copy or ask a question (she hadn’t needed to yet). But of course, today Sakura wasn’t taking notes. Of course she didn’t have anything to show on a potential study date. Why would she ever be prepared?

Sakura changed the subject. “Do you need help with something?” Ino always asked a lot of questions. She stayed after class constantly, with a confused look on her face. That look never seemed to improve.

“No,” Ino snapped back. Then, her face looked surprised. Sakura blinked.

“Sorry,” Ino said, her voice softer. Her expression had become sheepish and embarrassed. “This stuff is frustrating. I don’t like asking for help, but I swear I’m not gonna make it.”

There was a silence in the room as the professor erased part of the whiteboard. As Sakura turned forward to make sure they hadn’t been spotted, she could hear Ino sigh as all those notes disappeared. Sakura’s heart sank a little bit. She understood how that felt.

Quickly, Sakura turned back around. “If you want, we can go to the cafeteria and I can talk through some of the stuff you have written down.”

Ino didn’t look all that encouraged. Though, perhaps this was a slightly more promising face than the one she wore when asking the professor for help. Sakura didn’t blame her. That professor... droned on. And didn’t seem too personable.

“What about all the stuff I missed?” Ino mumbled. Pink was starting to stain her cheeks.

Sakura pointed backward at her laptop. “We can just go through the powerpoint notes. The prof always shares them.”

“I don’t get those either. They’re even worse than his class notes.”

“Do you have a the textbook?”

“Yeah?” Ino gave her a look, as if that was a no-brainer. “Do you?”

Sakura snorted. This was the most she had talked to Ino at all. Already, heat was rising into her cheeks. “No...”

Ino pouted at her. “Don’t tell me you’re some kind of math whiz.”

“Maybe I am, but you can’t be too picky,” Sakura giggled softly.

Ino eyed the professor, made a pained face, and gave a pleading look to Sakura.

“Please?” she asked.

“Of course.”

As Sakura faced forward again, she couldn’t help but smile at her computer screen. Her face felt so hot. As the professor droned on, writing another example from the book, Naruto’s basketball compilation video had ended, and another one had begun, this time a different year. Most eyes were still glued onto Naruto’s screen. Sakura could hear Ino’s pen scribbling quickly, trying to keep up with the professor. Sakura took a deep breath. Alright: she rescues Ino from calculus, and Ino rescues Sakura from complete boredom. And maybe they convene on a lunch date and talk about math. And hopefully other things, too.

In time. In slow, agonizing calculus time.

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#sakuino #inosaku #ino x sakura #naruto lesbians #comfortember #naruto fanfic #oneshot #w/w romance #college au #university au #modern au

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catrasredemption-moved · 4 years ago

Note

if u still take prompts... adora after 2 times where getting love from catra and feeling finally content only for catra and the entire world around her to crumble into pixels, now when she feels safety and happiness with catra she fears it's all fake

I think I understand what you’re getting at, sorry if I get this totally wrong, but it promises to be angst no matter what.

* * * * * * * * *

It had been six months since the end of the war.

Etheria was still rebuilding, although it was in a much better place than it had been. The Fright Zone and Salineas had improved in leaps and bounds (and although she’d never admit it, everyone knew it was because Catra had made both of those personal projects, pulling several all-nighters in a row trying to come up with the best plans for moving forward. Glimmer had presented the Salineas plan to Mermista and waited until construction was well underway to tell her it was all Catra’s idea), and the rest of the planet was coming along well. Bright Moon had almost been restored to its former glory, save for a few wings that needed work, and Shadow Weaver’s damn garden, which no one wanted to touch. Castaspella and Perfuma kept making plans to tackle it together, but there was always something more important that pulled them away.

Unfortunately, rebuilding wasn’t the only thing they had to deal with. Along with the magic came the return of magical creatures that were used to the planet being theirs - sharing wasn’t something they were accustomed to.

“Oooooooooooooowwwwww,” Adora whined, falling back on the ridiculously soft pillows (which she had to admit felt way better when she was injured).

“Aaaawww, did the mighty She-Ra get hurt?” Catra teased, settling in beside her. She had adjusted far more easily to the cushy beds and overstuffed pillows. Then again, Adora had seen her fall asleep in boxes more than once, so it was probably a cat thing.

“No, Adora got hurt, and Adora needs a loving and caring girlfriend.”

“A’right, I’ll see if Bow will let you borrow his.”

Adora laughed, grabbing Catra’s hand and yanking her back. “Smartass. Also you’d probably be better off just getting Bow. Glimmer’s bedside manner isn’t exactly top of the line.”

“Really?” Catra didn’t sound at all surprised by that. She rolled to kiss Adora, purring contently. “Seriously, how’s your shoulder?”

They’d been working out in one of the smaller villages on the edge of the Whispering Woods - just Catra and Adora, because She-Ra hadn’t really seemed necessary. They also hadn’t been expecting a territorial beast to come charging out of the woods, screeching, claws flying. There hadn’t even been time to transform before the claws had dug into Adora’s shoulder, leaving deep gashes that were easily worse than anything Catra had ever done to her, even while she was being controlled by Horde Prime.

That’s going to scar, she thought dizzily as her knees buckled. Catra had shoved her at a villager before running to take the beast out herself.

“I’ll live,” Adora said with a long, dramatic sigh. “I think my arm will even be salvageable.”

“Dramatic.” Catra rolled her eyes, shifting to kiss her again.

“You love me,” Adora murmured into her lips.

“For some reason.”

They sat in the warm, silent moment, enjoying themselves, comfortable, happy.

Then it all went cold.

Adora blinked, opening her eyes. Catra was gone, the bed was gone, the room was gone. She was in blackness, surrounded by green glitches of air. “Catra?” she whispered, scrambling up. Pain burned through her injured arm. “Catra!”

“What’s wrong, Adora?”

She froze, save for her trembling lips. No. The voice was... familiar. Of course it was familiar. She’d know that voice anywhere. If she forgot everything else in her life, she’d always remember that voice. But the pitch, the cadence, they were wrong.

She turned slowly, breathing shallowly, and her gaze fell on the small form standing a few feet away. Short brown hair slicked back neatly, white, skin-tight uniform clinging to her body, the Horde symbol emblazoned on her chest, eyes staring at her without seeing, blue and amber completely taken over by bright green.

Her voice was small as she whispered, once again, “Catra?”

The puppeted version of the woman she loved stepped closer, arms reaching. “It’s okay, Adora. Everything is okay. We’re in Horde Prime’s light now. Together. Nothing can hurt us now.”

“No.” Adora’s voice cracked. “No. This isn’t right. You’re not - I saved you.”

“But I don’t need to be saved.” Something echoed in her voice; Horde Prime stepped out of the shadows, smiling cruelly, a hand resting on Catra’s shoulder. “No one needs to be saved anymore. We’re all free.”

More figures stepped out of the shadows. Bow and Glimmer. Micah. Perfuma, Scorpia, Mermista, Netossa, Spinerella, Frosta. Sea Hawk. Castaspella. Shadow Weaver. More and more faces she recognized from her adventures, from the Horde, from all the places she had ever been. Adora tried to step away, but they were everywhere. Every face, every blank expression a reminder of her failure.

“You can be free as well, Adora.” Catra stepped forward, arms out again. That blank, expressionless smile was a teasing ghost of the genuine smiles Adora loved. “You can be happy. Be happy with us. With me.”

“No.” Adora stumbled back, almost hyperventilating. “No, Catra, this isn’t real. This isn’t real.” She grabbed Catra’s wrists, holding too tight. Her injured arm screamed in pain. She ignored it. “We won, don’t you remember? We activated the Failsafe, we stopped Horde Prime, we-”

“Adora.” Catra somehow pulled away from Adora’s grip, hands reaching up to hold Adora’s cheeks in a mocking, loving gesture. “You’re confused. It’s okay. We’ll fix you.”

More hands grabbed Adora, pulling her away, fingers gripping her ponytail and holding it out of the way, clearing a way to her neck. Catra’s hands stayed firm on her cheeks the entire time.

“It’s okay, Adora. Everything will be okay.”

“No. Nonononononono, no, Catra, Catra-”

“CATRA!”

Noise exploded all around her. A few voices yelled, a few hands tried to grab her, and one person yelped as her elbow connected with their nose. She went from ice cold to burning hot, like someone had lit her insides on fire. Her right arm was all but pinned to her chest, piercing pain stabbing her shoulder like dozens of small, fiery daggers. The room was blurry, her eyesight clouded. She saw color blurs moving around her; a couple of purplish figures, one in white - but no red. None of the dark, scarlet color she would have expected to see...

If Catra had been there.

“Adora, please calm down-”

She tried to shove away again, tried desperately to escape the hands. She knew what was happening. They were going to put a chip in her, turn her into another mindless drone, and no no no no no she couldn’t let that happen, she needed to save everyone, she needed to save Catra, she...

There was a small prick in her arm. She was only able to fight for a few more minutes before a blanket of darkness dragged her under.

It was dark when her eyes fluttered open again. The room was quiet, save for a familiar, gentle rumble vibrating against her side. She looked down blearily to see-

Her heart skipped several beats, tears filling her eyes. Catra. Catra pressed against her left side, tail draped across Adora’s legs, arms tucked under her head as she slept, purring loudly. There was a bandage taped to her temple, and a couple more on each arm and one of her legs.

“Adora?”

She jumped slightly, arm moving to rest over Catra as she looked around. Glimmer was standing beside her, hands up in a gesture of peace. “It’s okay,” she said gently. Bow was in a chair next to her, snoring lightly, a bandage across his nose. “It’s just me. You’re okay.”

“W-What...” Her voice cracked, throat dry, and she coughed; Catra shifted slightly, pressing closer to Adora, one arm moving to wrap around her waist. Glimmer poured a glass of water, stepping closer to help Adora drink. “What happened?” she tried again. She was starting to realize, as she became more aware of her body, how absolutely terrible she felt. Every single muscle ached, her right shoulder still hurt, and she still felt overly warm, although no longer on fire.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Glimmer asked, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t wake either of their sleeping partners.

“Um...” Adora squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think through the haze. “Catra and I were... helping a village?”

“Amroth,” Glimmer confirmed with a nod.

“And something... something attacked. It got me in the shoulder before I could transform...”

Glimmer nodded again as Adora’s voice drifted off. “The monster’s claws had some kind of poison. You got a full dose when it hit you. Catra said you went down pretty fast.”

That part didn’t feel right. Adora narrowed her eyes. She remembered getting hit, but she also remembered Catra taking down the beast, calling Glimmer for an emergency ride back to Bright Moon, the infirmary staff wrapping up her shoulder. She certainly didn’t remember Catra getting hurt at all.

“No.” Her voice shook. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. It was another mind trick, Horde Prime was messing with her, she-

“Adora,” Glimmer said firmly, stepping closer. “You were poisoned. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for three days. You’re confused.”

“No, I”m not confused, you’re - you’re lying, this isn’t real, you’re-”

A sudden weight was pressed against Adora’s chest, stopping her short. Catra had moved both arms around her waist now, head tucked under her chin as she purred louder. The sound rumbled through Adora’s chest, calming her racing heart just slightly. Glimmer’s own building panic eased into a smile.

“She said that used to help you when you were sick. You know, in the Horde. She hasn’t left your side since the doctor let her out of her own bed. Actually, I’m not sure if the doctor let her or if she just said screw it and snuck out when he wasn’t looking. Fifty-fifty either way.”

Adora raised a shaking hand to brush her fingers through Catra’s hair; they slid down on her head, resting against the back of her neck, where only the faintest scars remained from the chip. Tears filled her eyes, spilling over as she cried quietly. Her jumping chest stirred Catra out of her sleep. She blinked blearily raising her head.

“Ador - hey, Adora, it’s okay.” Catra scooted closer, reversing their positions so Adora was tucked under her chin instead. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Everything is okay.”

The words didn’t have the effect she was hoping for. Adora cried harder, clinging as hard as she could with one arm. “Please tell me this is real,” she whispered in a choked voice.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Catra said at once. “One hundred percent real.” Fingers brushed through Adora’s long hair. “If it helps, I can tell you how absolutely stupid you are for jumping in front that damn monster without even transforming first, you complete moron.”

Adora laughed weakly into Catra’s chest, loosening her arm just slightly. “Yeah. I think that helps.”

“Good. Because I’m not letting that go any time soon.”

They fell silent, save for the purring that began again, soothing Adora’s fevered mind and allowing her to sleep once more.

Some version of this process repeated itself over the next week, every time Adora woke up. Glimmer and Bow were impressed by how calm and gentle Catra was every single time. Adora would wake up in a panic, clinging to Catra and begging her to assure her she was real, this was real, everything was real. Catra managed to pare it down somewhat to a few questions.

“Catra?”

“Real.”

“We’re in Bright Moon?”

“Real.”

“Horde Prime?”

“Very really dead and very really gone.”

A few moments of silence would always follow. Sometimes Adora would go back to sleep. Sometimes she would ask one last question. “You love me?”

At which point Catra would gently kiss Adora’s overly warm forehead, hugging her close and whispering, “Very, very, very real.”

#askbox fic #Mystery Person #Sam Answers

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clan-sayeed-fic · 5 years ago

Text

It’s just a moment (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well.) Warnings: fluff

Author’s note: I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

Hi, it’s been a while since I posted 😄

It’s a one-shot story, yeah, I know, you can be angry at me for not continuing Meant To Be, and instead, writing something new haha 😅

I hope you’ll enjoy this short story 💕

~ 1900 words

————————

It’s just a moment

A sound of quiet scratching of the pencil on the paper filled the air in Central Park in New York.

It was dark outside, as almost everyone in the city was sleeping for a long time, except for Amy. Instead, she was sitting there near the lake, with her earphones on, lost in her drawing.

A delicate gust of wind was brushing her blonde hair from time to time, making it fall on her face. That was the only thing interrupting Amy’s creative process as she had to every couple of minutes tuck her hair behind the ears to see anything.

Beyond that, everything around her was peaceful, as always.

Recently she had been spending most of her evenings out there. She usually went to the park after her classes at college or her part-time job finished. Then, she used to stay there until the evening, writing down her thoughts next to the drawings she made during the day.

That night would have been no different, except something happened.

Amy was in the middle of sketching the panorama of the city when she noticed a slight change in her surroundings. Maybe it was her sixth sense that people keep talking so much about… perhaps not.

It had to be so much more… fate?

She looked up from her work to see someone walking far away from her in a different direction. Because of the faint light of the lamps, she could only recognize the shape of a human. Someone who, like a shadow, was hidden behind the darkness of the night.

The girl took out her earphones. The sweet music faded away, making it possible to focus on the quiet sounds of the park. But as soon she did that, the shadow disappeared, impossible to find anywhere.

“Weird…” Amy muttered to herself.

But since the person she saw was walking in a different direction, she decided there was nothing to worry about. Just to be more cautious, she left the earphones alone, turning off the music and focusing back on her work.

Another few lines appeared on the drawing, creating shadows of the buildings. Amy wanted to check something in her notes, so she put the current sketch and a few previous ones aside. Suddenly, the wind got more powerful, and even if the girl managed to catch in time most of the sheets of paper, the one on the top went flying in the air.

Her eyes followed the journey of the drawing until she saw it landing on the ground a few matters ahead. The girl let out a short sigh of relief as the sheet of paper might have as well landed in the water.

But her relief faded away when she noticed someone bending over to pick it up.

Amy stayed in one place stiff, but luckily it was just a strange woman that probably went out for a walk in the dark of night.

She was wearing a fancy, and probably expensive, burgundy suit. When she stood up straight, Amy was able to look closely at her features. They were absolutely perfect, creating a beautiful image that left the girl speechless.

“Out of pure curiosity,” the woman spoke aloud, an intoxicating sound of her voice certainly wasn’t helpful at that moment. “What a young artist is doing here at this hour?”

Corners of the woman’s mouth curled up a little, making Amy finally stop staring at them. Instead, she moved her gaze up, meeting those beautiful chestnut eyes, getting lost in the view… again.

Say something, the girl scolded herself, prying for her own voice to sound natural.

“Um…” she slowly got up, gathering her things. “I’m no artist.”

The woman looked at her confidently, taking Amy’s whole appearance in. For a moment, the girl could swear that she saw a red spark among the warm brown shade inside her iris. That’s when another gust of wind appeared, messing Amy’s hair, causing her to blush a little.

“Alright, No-artist,” the woman said when the wind went down. “That doesn’t alter the fact that it’s still late,” her eyes squinted, “and dangerous for you to be out here.”

This time Amy was the one with the confidence in her green eyes. She didn’t like to be bossing around, and despite aura this woman had around herself, she felt like the stranger was crossing the line.

“Well, I’m not the only one out here,” Amy smiled teasingly, pretending to sound like her, “at this hour.”

The woman raised her left eyebrow at those words, quite impressed. But even this small gesture caused Amy to lose all of her previous confidence, making her cheeks turn pinkish.

“Fair enough,” finally, the brunette spoke, giving Amy a short break from her intense stare. “My name is Kamilah.”

She took a few steps toward the girl, reaching out her hand. In the other one, she was holding the drawing of Amy’s. But the girl completely forgot about that, paying all her attention to this intriguing person she had just met.

“I’m Amy,” she shook the hand, feeling the electricity coming through her body as their skin touched with each other.

Again, this spark in the woman’s eyes. Amy was almost sure that she saw a crimson shade inside of them, but… that’s not possible, right?

“Haven’t you had enough art for one day?” Kamilah took her hand away, keeping eye contact with the girl.

“Excuse me?” Amy stiffened slightly, a mistrust building inside her chest.

But the woman only smiled softly, noticing this change in her appearance. She was able to easily sense her muscles tensing, breath getting lighter before it would, as the opposite, become heavy from fear.

She knew the pattern of her victims.

“Can you see this enormous building?” Kamilah pointed in the direction, making Amy’s eyes follow. “That’s my company, Ahmanet Financial,” she said, still noticing a misunderstanding in the girl’s eyes. “I can easily see you from my office, sitting here every day, drawing.”

Amy looked once again at the building, measuring the distance inside her head. After a moment, she laughed shortly, looking back at the woman.

“What do you have there, a telescope?” Amy laughed again, but seeing that her joke made no impression on the woman, she bit her lower lip to shut herself up.

“Let’s call it,” Kamilah stared for a moment at her mouth before she looked into her eyes, “good eyesight.”

“Sure…” Amy let go of the topic, but inside her head, thoughts were fighting with each other.

How good eyesight she had to have to notice her from such distance? To recognize her?

“And now,” Kamilah went back to the question, “why, pray tell, are you still out here?”

For a moment, Amy considered if she should answer this question. But, after a while of searching for a hint of bad intentions inside the woman’s eyes, she gave up.

“I…” the girl wasn’t sure what words to use, but Kamilah’s encouraging nod helped her keep going. “I like drawing during the day because I can capture the moment of people’s life. The one and only moment from my perspective, as the couples sit by the lake, talking. Children play around after finishing school. Owners come out with their dogs for a walk…” she smiled, reminding herself all sketches that she had of those situations. “I like it a lot, but what I truly love…” she paused, looking at the surroundings, “…is cherishing those moments. Improving them on the paper, maybe adding something new, taking something away… it depends.”

A short silence fell between them, as Kamilah was listening, lost in this answer. After a while, she lifted the piece of paper that she held in her hand all this time. And for the first one, she looked at the sketch.

“So,” her voice full of curiosity, “what kind of moment do you capture by drawing the city that will remain the same for years?”

Amy laughed sweetly at this clueless tone of the woman’s voice. But in return, Kamilah only gave her a small smile, nothing less, nothing more.

“The city will stay the same,” the blonde started patiently, “but I won’t. It’s about capturing how I see it tonight. Tomorrow my eyes might see this building differently. I might focus on different aspects, "she looked at the panorama covered with darkness. "What if I can’t come here tomorrow, and today is the last opportunity for me to catch this memory?”

Their eyes met again. Brown with the green ones, looking into each other’s souls. The invisible connection was growing between them with every second.

“I know,” Amy laughed again, looking down, “it sounds crazy, I’m sorry, I got lost in this explanation.”

“No, it does not,” Kamilah’s confident voice made the girl lift her gaze. “And don’t ever apologize for being passionate about something,” she returned the sketch. “And this is really a good drawing.”

For a while, they stood in front of each other speechless, but there was no awkwardness between them. The silence seemed natural until Amy interrupted it after catching herself on getting lost in the woman’s eyes once again.

“So…” she started quietly. “What about you, Kamilah? Why are you here tonight?”

The question clearly caught the woman off guard as she moved slightly, composing herself. She wasn’t expecting Amy to ask her anything, she wasn’t expecting anyone to be curious about her at this point.

And for sure, Kamilah didn’t plan on telling the real reason for her visit to the park.

“I wanted to get some fresh air after work,” a lie smoothly escaped her mouth.

“At this hour?” Amy tilted her head to the right, smiling.

“Yes,” Kamilah smirked at this adorable human being. “I work late, and I really appreciate the night air. There is something calm about being outside when everyone around is sleeping, waiting for the next day,” she closed her eyes for a second, taking herself out of those thoughts. “See? You’re not the only one talking crazy,” Kamilah laughed nervously.

“You’re not talking crazy,” Amy was listening to her mesmerized.

Another gust of wind picked up, breaking the tension between them.

“I should get going,” the woman spoke after the wind calmed itself.

“Wait,” Amy’s voice sounded more panicked than she wanted. “I mean… why don’t you stay with me a little bit longer? I could use some company.”

She didn’t want to scare the woman with her invitation, so she added a little smile, patiently waiting for an answer. Kamilah studied her face for a few seconds, considering her options.

She could stay there with this charming young woman, enjoy her company, learn more about her. Maybe even let her in. But it wasn’t hard for Kamilah to predict how it would end up for both of them.

The vampire knew too well how this whole situation would have turned out if not for this one piece of paper landing in front of her, interrupting her previous plan.

“I really appreciate the invitation,” chestnut eyes looking deeply into hers. “Maybe some other time, Amy.”

The wind picked up much more, making Amy’s hair fall on her face, leaving her struggling with it for a moment.

“I’m looking forward…” the girl finally regained control over her hairstyle, just to find herself alone in the park, “…to that.”

She looked around, but the mysterious woman was nowhere to find. Amy was confused, but she decided to not overthink the situation too much. Instead, she sat down on the ground and took out a new sheet of paper.

The graphite of the pencil left several lines on the white surface.

As Amy was capturing another moment.

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #kamilah #bloodbound kamilah #bb kamilah #bb mc #choices bloodbound #choices bb #bloodbound #choices fanfiction #choices fic #one-shot #short story #fluff #fanfic #fic

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monsterywriting · 5 years ago

Text

Zombie Boyfriend Adam

Read the original parts here and here

AN: I can hardly believe it’s almost been a whole year since i started this blog (though i haven’t been as consistent as i had wanted/was planning to be).

I started this blog off with Adam, so i wanted to end this year with a rewrite of my very first story i posted. Hopefully there has been an improvement in my writing as well lol.

word count: 7.6k

Living alone in the middle of nowhere had many perks, all of which you could appreciate fully as a hermit who enjoyed immensely the understated solitude of nature, a cabin in the mountainside during the off season.

Nearly three months had flew by since you first agreed to fix up your grandmother’s old lakeside cabin and you had yet to tire of the place, even more so once the last of the other cabin owners and late season renters left and the snowy season began.

The cabin had been vacant for half a year, your parents finally succeeding in convincing your grandmother to move back to the valley below. She was getting older, and her eyesight had been going over the years, so her spending winters alone up here hadn’t been feasible any longer.

So you were now tasked with getting the place ready to be rented out by next summer, and you had your work cut out for you. The most pressing structural wrk that needed to be done had been completed over the summer, making the place livable for you to move in during the fall. Your work over the winter consisted mostly of sorting through everything that had been left in the house and keeping the place dust-free until spring. Once the snow thawed you would finally be able to complete the more cosmetic changes; fresh coats of pain, new furnishings and the like.

Your grandmother’s cabin sat alone on a hill overlooking the frozen lake, the first cabin built at the site. Other cabins dotted the shore in small clusters, the nearest one halfway around the lake. The clearing was surrounded by great pines, the only break in the tree line to the right of your cabin, the space the road carved from the final cabin all the way down to town and which was currently buried underneath several feet of snow.

You were currently pushing a large wardrobe down the hill towards the road. It had been in one of the three upstairs bedrooms, the one that you had spent your summers staying in. You had hoped to salvage some of the old wooden furniture, but a bad roof leak had left almost all of it water damaged.

It was still a shock to you to see the second home you remembered so dilapidated, the only evidence that they were one in the same the personal touches you and your siblings had left over the years—a sticker here placed by your brother, a knick there from your sister trying knife throwing. Now, it would remain on the side of the road for easier loading to take to the dump once the snow melted.

You struggled to maneuver the bulky wardrobe down safely, at first worrying that it would slide uncontrollably all the way down the hill and then as the ground grew uneven that it would topple over when the legs kept getting caught. Just as the wardrobe got stuck for the umpteenth time, you suddenly had the sensation of being watched.

The hair on the back of the your neck stood on end as you spun around, scanning the tree line where you thought you felt the stare come from. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done if you’d actually caught something looking back, but whatever it was had been at it for days now. At first, you just assumed it was some wild animal hoping to find some food, but it had been so consistent and long now that you were no longer sure what to make of it.

Deciding it best not to linger outside for too long, you shuddered and turned back to the wardrobe, giving it a particularly hard shove in your rush to dislodge it and get back inside. However, instead of moving again, the entire wardrobe tipped over, making you lose balance as well.

The wardrobe fortunately stayed where it landed once it crashed into the floor, but you weren’t so lucky as you immediately started rolling the moment you hit the ground. You flailed wildly in an attempt to find some sort of purchase to stop yourself before finally landing unceremoniously on the hard frozen gravel next to the road. Wheezing slightly, you picked yourself up off the ground, horrified to find both your palms scraped and bloody. Your temple was throbbing in pain, and you felt a warm wet roll down the side of your face.

Stooping down, you felt around the ground for your glasses, squinting to try and focus your vision enough to look for them. You finally found them on the road, cracks completely covering both lenses and one completely falling apart when you lifted them.

You groaned, this the only pair you had with you and unable to drive down to town for at least another month, meaning you were effectively blind until then. The snow didn’t help, either, you couldn’t even rely on colorful smears to tell you what you were looking at.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” Someone called out to you from down the road.

You turned like a deer caught between fast approaching headlights, well aware of the fact that there shouldn’t be anyone this high up on the mountain besides you right now. Even with your terrible vision, you could tell whoever it was towered over you, impossible for you to even think about fighting them off—or running as he reached you. You couldn’t even begin to make out the details of his appearance underneath the layers of winter clothes and black shades he wore, only able to tell that he had long black hair, making him appear paler than he already was.

The stranger bent down to get a closer look. At least, you assumed that was what he was doing since you couldn’t tell what his eyes were doing underneath the sunglasses.

“Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Looks like it’s just a scrape,” the stranger murmured to himself while holding your head in place and pushing your hair out of the way.

“Sorry, but who exactly are you?” You lifted your arm to press the sleeve of your jacket to the cut on your forehead and squinted up at him, getting on your tiptoes trying to get a better look, “I didn’t think anyone else would be staying here during the winter- and I don’t remember you from this summer…”

You definitely would’ve noticed such a giant guy walking around, a thought reinforced as you gripped his forearm.

The stranger seemed to grow nervous under your scrutiny, craning his head back before you could make out the details of his face. Considering he relaxed as soon as you got back down, however, you assumed the reaction was a matter of personal space rather than making sure you couldn’t give a good description of him to the authorities—not that they would ever make it.

“I bought that cabin at the end a few years ago; I only come up here during the winter,” he answered once you backed off, pointing across the lake to the specific cabin. You turned to look, though you couldn’t tell the difference without your glasses, “Did something happen to the old woman living here? She was always so nice…”

“Oh, gosh, no my grandma’s fine,” you reassured your apparent neighbor quickly, relaxing slightly with the knowledge that he knew her, “she just moved back to town. She’s still healthy as a horse. Y’know, besides her eyes.”

“Oh,” he paused before adding tentatively, “are you… blind, too?”

“No!” You burst out with a snort, nearly laughing as you held up your destroyed glasses, “they broke in the fall…”

He grimaced at the sight before noticing the scrape was still bleeding when you lowered your arm, turning all business as he ushered you back up the hill towards the cabin.

“You need to get that cleaned and bandaged. Do you have a first aid kit inside?” He asked, all but sitting you down on the steps leading up to the porch like a mother hen.

“Uh- there’s rubbing alcohol in the bathroom, and I don’t think I bought any bandaids…” you said after racking your mind, realizing you never even considered what you would do if you got injured out here, in the middle of nowhere with no way for any ambulance to arrive to help you—though fortunately for you your surprise guest seemed well equipped for situations such as these.

“It’s fine, just keep putting pressure on it while I run and grab mine,” he ordered, leaving you to watch his blurry form become a blob before disappearing completely in the white of the snow. You were puzzled by the man, helpful and nice enough in his own right, if not a bit odd—your neighbor but also a complete stranger.

Rather than wait in the cold, you went into the kitchen and ripped off a bunch of paper towels and pressed them to your forehead. You also dug around a few drawers in search of glasses of any kind, managing to find some cheaters but only succeeding in giving yourself a headache when you tried them on.

With your only back up plan a resounding failure, you went back to the porch to await the man’s return—and making a mental note to ask him for his name. You grew bored as you waited, your mind coming to the conclusion that he was probably hot, despite not being able to get a good look at his face. But then you began to dwell on the fact that he had definitely seen you eat dirt with your fall—possibly even from the initial trip. By the time you finally noticed him jogging back up to you with a small bag in hand, the embarrassment gnawing at you was almost unbearable.

He didn’t seem to notice your inner turmoil, focused on unzipping the bag and taking out everything he needed before shrugging off his jacket and setting to work. Neither of you spoke as he cleaned your scrapes with wet wipes, even taking the time to clean the blood that dripped down your face before dabbing antiseptic on the scrape.

You tried not to break his focus by fidgeting around, and bit your tongue to keep the million questions darting around your mind from bursting forth. Instead, you focused on taking advantage of your close proximity to try and get a better idea of his appearance. He still kept you at arm’s length, but it also happened to be the only part of him close enough for you to see in detail.

Scars ran up the length of his arm, both gashes and apparent burns all long since healed. Your curiosity was piqued by the countless number that seemed to cover his arms, looking up until they disappeared under the hem of his shirt—and you suspected they continued underneath. Still, you didn’t want to be nosy after only just meeting him.

Eventually, your vision began to adjust slightly to seeing without the aid of your glasses, though your head was still throbbing from the shift, but you could just make out fairly large scars running up his neck and on his face—the size of which clearly would have been gaping wounds.

You finally broke the silence by offering your name as he placed the final bandage on your palm, jumping as if he’d forgotten you were even there.

“I’m Adam,” he replied once he composed himself, quickly turning from you to put everything back into the bag. It was now evident to you that he was trying to hide his appearance from you.

“Well, Adam,” you said as seriously as you could, the man in question fidgeting as he waited for you to finish, “I ought to repay you for saving my life. How about I feed you for your trouble?”

You felt triumphant seeing the faintest hint of a chuckle escape Adam, even as he stammered out assurances that it was all right and really, you shouldn’t waste rations, you were not to be dissuaded, placing a hand on his arm to stop him and pretending not to notice the way he stiffened when you brushed against the raised skin of his scars.

“Come on, I’ve got enough canned food to last me years,” you said gently, letting go of Adam’s hand to still give him the chance to walk away, “It’s not every day you find out you have a neighbor by falling flat on your face. Besides, I keep deer sausage in the freezer for special occasions. I think this fits the bill.”

After a moment’s hesitation after listening to your short spiel, Adam bobbed his head in acquiescence and you immediately bounced to your feet, leading the way inside. Both of you cracked up when Adam was forced to duck down to fit in the doorframe and awkwardly sat on your grandma’s tiny old lady couch.

“Sorry for the mess; I’m clearing out the rooms so it’s kind of a catch-all in here,” you called from the kitchen, remembering too late that trash bags and old furniture filled the living room.

“It’s fine,” Adam replied, suddenly appearing in the kitchen entrance, making you jump before letting out a sharp bark of laughter, “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you, just thought it’d be awkward talking from across the cabin… and I wanted to come help.”

“You’ve helped more than enough; you can just sit at the table,” you insisted, more excited than you thought you’d be for the company, “So, how did you meet my grandma?”

“She’s usually the only other person up here during the winters,” Adam answered, ignoring your command and walking to the sink to start cleaning your dishes. You were embarrassed to admit you let them pile up since you were alone, mortified that Adam was learning all your deep, dark secrets very quickly, “She always insisted on giving me something to drink whenever she saw me jogging. Also food. I still don’t know how she did it. Just wait out there with it until she heard me passing by? Is it the same deer sausage she used to make?”

“Yeah, it is,” you answered, chuckling at the mental image of your grandma being able to somehow sense a young person in need of nourishment in the vicinity despite being half blind. It was very on brand for her.

You fell into easy conversation with Adam as you boiled water to thaw the sausages faster, telling him about the plans for the cabin, but also trying to learn more about him as well, enjoying coaxing the shy giant out of his shell.

Adam told you that he was an editor, mostly working via email, which explained why he could stay up in the mountain all winter. Despite seeming to talk more freely with you as time went on, you were careful to steer clear of the subject of his scars, as he hadn’t brought the subject up himself. However, you did eventually figure out that it had been Adam who was stalking you for the past week whenever you were outside.

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Adam protested, the two of you sitting on the couch with your plates of food, your table completely covered with boxes, “I was just worried something bad really did happen to your grandma. And the window to approach you without it being awkward had already passed… I didn’t want to freak you out and be trapped alone together for months.”

“Oh come on, how am I supposed to be scared of a guy who’s best friends with my grandma?” You laughed, sensing that Adam was referring to his physical appearance more than anything, and the fact that seeing a stranger injured overpowered his own self-consciousness about his appearance endeared him to you already.

The more you learned about Adam, the more you wanted to know, to ask him about himself. However, he seemed to clam up whenever the conversation broached the subject of his past, so you decided it best to let it go until whenever Adam felt comfortable telling you.

So, you contented yourself to find out just how much you had in common, even learning that Adam had been the editor for some of your favorite novels of recent years. You also learned that Adam aspired to write a novel of his own someday, something he worked on out here specifically. The conversation didn’t end until long after your plates were empty and the sun slunk below the trees.

“You can’t go out in that,” you fretted as Adam put his outer layers back on, “You can get lost! Or fall in the lake!”

“I’ll be fine,” Adam insisted, the most certain you’d seen him all night, “It isn’t completely dark and I’ve got 20/20 vision.”

You were skeptical to say the least, well aware that it was all too easy to get turned around in the darkness and especially with the blanket of snow covering pretty much every discernible path. But Adam insisted that he’d be fine, so you gave in quickly so he wouldn’t lose any more light, though not before forcing him to take one of your flashlights just in case.

“I’ll come back to help you tomorrow. Don’t want you to have any more accidents,” Adam called over his shoulder, waving to you before disappearing out of reach of your porch light and limited field of view.

Just as Adam promised, he came the very next day to help you clear out the rest of the furniture from the second floor, adamant he did the heavy lifting himself—but this time you brought the sledgehammer from your grandmother’s shed to break the furniture into more manageable pieces before bringing it down the stairs.

With no one else around for miles, Adam soon became a daily presence in your life, though he never seemed to allow himself get too close to you, constantly holding himself back. But despite whatever issues drove him to seek the seclusion of the mountain, it was clear he still craved human interaction, evidenced by the fact that he was always around.

You eventually video called your grandmother so Adam could speak to her, both ecstatic to talk again after so long. She even gave him her number, insisting he come down to visit her for a ‘real meal’. It was the closest you’d been to Adam since you met, both of you crowding together to fit on your phone screen.

You also managed to call the optometrist in town to have new glasses made before your prescription expired, so you only had to drive down to pick them up once the roads cleared.

There had already been very little work you could do over the winter months, and you finished much more quickly with Adam’s help. Within a few short weeks there was nothing left to do and still had at least a month until the snow melted.

Even with the work finished, Adam still came over just as often, enjoying the company of the other in your isolation. You had a feeling that Adam needed the companionship more than he let on, if the way he opened up to you so quickly in spite of his own insecurities was any indication, and you had to admit you enjoyed his company as well. Perhaps more than was simple friendship.

Like now, Adam read out loud one of the old books you’d found while you sat next to him and listened. A sudden snow flurry forced Adam to stay the night, and while neither one of you were tired when he’d begun reading earlier, his voice was so soft and soothing you could feel yourself being lulled to sleep.

You were out cold by the time your head fell onto Adam’s shoulder, completely unaware of how you curled instinctually into his side. You also missed how he stiffened at the contact, torn between wanting to maintain his distance and not wanting to wake you, sitting completely still for hours until you shifted away from him in your sleep enough that he could extract himself.

When you stretched awake the next morning, you were covered with your thickest comforter and the smell of breakfast filled the cabin. You shuffled into bathroom to go through your morning routine before going to the kitchen, wide awake once you saw Adam at the stove.

“Pancakes? You’ve been holding out on me, Adam.” Your sudden entrance made him jump and nearly drop the spatula in the batter before he caught himself, “I’m ready to get down on my knee and beg you to marry me right now.”

“Ran to my house to get food once the snow stopped,” Adam said, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully and refusing to meet your eye, “Just thought I’d be the one to cook for once.”

You beamed at his thoughtfulness, dragging him away from the stove so the two of you could eat together. Your grandmother definitely rubbed off on him, considering he made enough pancakes to feed an army and still insisted on making more. You praised Adam’s cooking knowing the compliments flustered him, but while you teased him to see the reaction you garnered, the compliments were genuine.

In the blink of an eye, the worst of the snowfall was over and the weather warmed rapidly, the road soon completely cleared for driving. As soon as you could, you set up an appointment to pick up your glasses.

Your excitement was swiftly struck down, however, when you told Adam you would be going to town soon, jokingly telling him that you would finally get a good look at him in just a few days. He had suddenly gone quiet while you went on talking before suddenly announcing that he wasn’t feeling well and leaving abruptly.

Adam began to distance himself, claiming he could no longer come over for a while, having been sent a new manuscript to work on.

At first, you didn’t realize anything was amiss, taking at face value Adam’s explanation that he had to focus on work. You initially suspected something was wrong when he grew evasive even over text. Your suspicions were confirmed once the day arrived for you to drive into town and he wouldn’t even come see you off.

Still, you set out and put your worries aside, stopping by the optometrist’s office and then going to lunch with your parents. You ended the day at the hardware store, stocking up on paint supples and different samples to test out before beginning the long drive back up the mountain, this time determined to find out exactly what was going on with Adam.

You knocked on Adam’s door for several minutes before letting yourself in with the spare key, your multiple calls going unanswered. You were struck immediately at the pristine modern design inside, your first time actually inside Adam’s home as you couldn’t make the trek around the lake without your glasses. The place was only sparsely furnished, and there wasn’t a single personal effect in sight.

You had long since accepted your feelings for Adam, cemented in your mind after your time away that it wasn’t simply the isolation and proximity of being alone together for so long. While you had no intention of aggressively pursuing the timid Adam, you were determined to at least tell him how you felt. You suspected he felt the same, and that those feelings were the reason for his abrupt disappearance, constantly restraining and withholding happiness from himself. No matter how much progress you felt you made with him, there was always a barrier he kept up around you that you couldn’t break through.

Hanging your jacket by the door and leaving your shoes at the edge of the foyer, you walked around the staircase deeper into the first floor. You still couldn’t believe he had the nerve to describe the home as a ‘cabin’ to you. You walked in a circle into the living room, through the kitchen into the dining room before finally ending up back at the front door. Just as you were about to walk back to the stairs to try the second floor, Adam’s shocked voice choking out your name stopped you in your tracks. He sounded terrified, which in turn terrified you.

“What the hell, Adam?” You tried to make yourself laugh, but the resulting noise came out too forced, “Come on, I finally got my new glasses—”

“Wait!” Adam’s raised voice made you stop in your tracks once again, now certain his voice was coming from the top of the stairs, only the corner of the wall in your way. Still, you ignored your urge to make the final step.

“I don’t want to see you! I mean—” Adam fumbled his words and you waited patiently as he deciphered what he wanted to say, “There’s something I need to tell you. About me. But I don’t really know how you’re going to take it. And I’ve been thinking about how to say this but now you’re actually here and - I’m just blanking on everything I had planned…”

“If this is about your scars, then I know,” you interjected in Adam’s increasingly panicked ramblings in an attempt to calm him down, or at least to save him from flailing around the subject.

Adam fell silent immediately, which you took as a sign to continue talking, “I’m nearsighted, not blind, Adam. I obviously saw them when we met. I just figured you’d tell tell me about them when you were ready to. Now can you please get down here so I don’t have to keep talking to a wall?”

Before I come around this corner myself. You held that final thought back, no matter how badly you wanted to say it. You wanted Adam to be the one to make the decision, not pressuring him to reveal things he wasn’t ready to share of his own accord.

After a few brief moments, and a few creaks of the stairs later, Adam’s voice sounded closer than ever, though still just as hesitant, “the scars… they’re related but not exactly what I was going to say- it’s just not easy to explain—”

That was all you needed to hear, taking the final stride necessary to round the corner and stopping at the foot of the stairs, effectively scaring the daylights out of Adam, sitting on the steps, with you sudden appearance. Despite his shock, he remained still, though clearly uncomfortable to be so openly stared at.

In the comfort of his own home and without the need for layers of winter clothes, you could easily see the scars and more than what you saw initially. The scars—mostly old burns of varying degrees of severity that seemed to cover every inch of his skin—were more condensed on his torso, peaking out the collar of his loose-fitting shirt. The ones that caught your eye the most, however, seemed almost surgical in nature, two lines that diverged from his sternum into a y-shape along either side of his neck. Your eyes moved upward, Adam’s nose almost completely gone, what was left misshapen by one particularly long scar that cut from his temple through his nose and curved down to his jaw in a sort-of ’S’ shape.

The worst you had long since gotten used to, so there were no gasps of surprise or fainting spells from you. Your glasses did, however, showed you the full scope of what must have been horrendous injuries, almost unimaginable in their sheer volume. You were certain that they couldn’t possibly have all happened in a single event, accident or otherwise, and Adam survive it. Despite his casual dress and the indoor setting, however, the shades remained on.

But, even as you tried your damndest to focus on the very serious task and show of trust at hand, it was hard when Adam was right in front of you, your attraction to the man only reinforced the longer you looked. You wanted to assure Adam that you weren’t repulsed by his appearance as he probably expected you to be nor were you tolerant of it—far from it, in fact. But to admit that you were fawning over the skin visible through the material of his shirt, or found him incredibly attractive seemed inappropriate for the moment—and it wasn’t likely that he would believe you if you came on too strong. Adam ran his fingers through his lengthy hair, and you sensed he was quickly reaching his limit for scrutiny.

At last, you made your way to the one thing still hidden away from you: his eyes. As you got closer, Adam tensed. He had returned to the stranger you first met, reluctant to get comfortable and with his guard constantly up. Back then, you had to be the one to make the first move and invite him inside.

So, you knelt down in front of him, carefully reaching out to take off the shades, stopping when Adam’s hand touched your own, even if he didn’t exert any pressure against you.

“I need to tell you- before you see,” Adam trailed off, clearing his throat before continuing, “These past few months- I haven’t felt so happy in a long time. Not since- well, I never imagined I’d get so close to you, and I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you before saying all that but I couldn’t so- these scars, I got them-”

You interrupted Adam’s rambling again by moving to sit next to him—though not by choice, your legs falling asleep from your uncomfortable position.

You recovered, however, taking Adam’s hand in your own and intertwining your fingers with his, “Adam, your scars and how you got them- you don’t have to talk about either if you aren’t ready. Even if I didn’t break my glasses, nothing that’s happened would’ve changed; I still would’ve invited you inside and tricked you into helping me clear out the cabin. You don’t have to feel obligated to explain yourself to me.”

“Thank you; I wish things were that simple,” Adam sighed, though some of the tension left his shoulders after your impromptu speech, “I got the scares in a car accident. I died back then.”

You blinked slowly, not quite understanding what Adam was getting at, “Well, I’m glad the doctors were able to bring you back, Adam—”

“I was dead for six months.”

You said nothing for a moment, at first attempting to convince yourself that he said minutes. You didn’t know what to think of the proclamation. The only thing that stopped you from immediately disregarding it was that Adam was the one saying it. And another thought wormed its way into your brain—the realization of exactly what the surgical scar on his chest reminded you of.

You reached up, hand moving past Adam’s face to the back of his ear, feeling the ridges of a scar and following the cut up to the top of his head, where you knew it would continue to the back of his other ear. You felt slightly lightheaded.

“My dad tried everything to bring me back- and he finally found something that worked,” Adam explained, taking your hand in his own and lowering it, “I’m not… entirely human- anymore.”

“Bring you back meaning like… magic? Or is it a Frankenstein-type deal?” You weren’t even aware of what you were saying anymore, words spilling out of you before Adam could even respond, “I mean, Frankenstein’s monster since, y’know, Frankenstein was—”

“I wasn’t going to correct you, but yeah, the latter,” Adam laughed drily, “except all of my body parts are from one person. Well, except my eyes. My dad never went into that much detail of what he did exactly, though.

“Wait, so your name- was that on purpose or…?” You gasped aloud as you made the connection.

“No!” Adam’s eyes widened as he shook his head emphatically, “that’s just a coincidence. A weird one, now that I think about it, but that’s always been my name.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Adam more fully, reaching up once again to gently remove his sunglasses, folding and putting them down on the stairs before looking at his face again.

Adam’s eyes had a cloudy blue haze over them, so glazed over you could hardly tell what color they might have once been underneath, much less how Adam could possibly see through them. Though, he clearly could from how they moved as he carefully studied your reaction.

“Now can I tell you what I came here to say?” You finally broke the tense silence, your voice barely above a whisper, to which Adam simply nodded, looking at you in amazement as you brushed off the earth-shattering news—reanimation was possible, the world wasn’t as it seemed, you had spent the winter with a dead man.

Inching forward slowly, giving Adam every opportunity to pull away, you gently placed both hands on each cheek and angled your face upward, just inches away from his own. You were tempted to close the gap between you, but managed to sit still.

After a short pause, Adam dipped his head down and pressed his lips against your own. He was awkward, stiff and out of practice. Taking pity on him, you decided to take the lead, prodding his lips with your tongue to get him to relax a bit. Eventually he did, melting into the kiss and even deepening it before wrapping his arms tightly around you and pulling you closer, as though you would suddenly slip from his grasp.

You let Adam go at his own pace, allowing him to grow used to the close contact after undoubtably going through a dry spell without any intimacy for a while. Soon, however, you were forced to break the kiss to catch your breath, Adam giving a small noise of discontent at the loss.

You realized you were practically on Adam’s lap, his arms still holding you close. Rather than return your lips to Adam’s, as he clearly wanted you to, you snaked your arms underneath his and pulled him into a tight hug, resting your chin on his shoulder. You couldn’t see his expression, but from the way he clung to you and buried his face into the crook of your neck, you knew it was perfect.

“Not to rush you, but the stairs are kind of uncomfortable,” Adam’s voice was muffled as he spoke into your shoulder, but as soon as you registered what he’d said you snorted and extracted yourself from his embrace, Adam standing after you with a lot more stretching and groaning.

Once you were both up and all joints were properly popped, Adam wrapped his arms around you once again and rested his head on your shoulder. But before you could lean back into him, he offered to go make coffee and didn’t give you a chance to respond before he vanished into the kitchen.

Exasperated that Adam’s urge to be caring had made him part from you, you decided to just wait on the couch. You were unable to keep the grin off your face for long, your mind occupied with thoughts of the kiss. It had been a while for you as well, and even longer still since you had kissed someone you cared for as much as Adam.

When he came back with two steaming mugs and sat next to you—much closer than he had during the entire time that you knew him—you decided to finally ask Adam about his past, now aware of why he couldn’t go into detail before. And once you worked up the courage to ask, it was as though a dam had burst, Adam truly seeming thrilled to tell you all about his family and childhood, his voice only getting thick with emotion as he arrived at the point of his death. He even soldiered through all your weird questions about his current state.

“So do you still eat regular food? Or were you puking immediately after eating what I made?” You set your empty mug on the table, your heart dropping at the thought of poisoning Adam, even inadvertently.

“Yes, I still eat,” Adam tried and failed to sound exasperated, “and before you ask- no I do not crave human flesh or brains or anything weird like that.”

“Are you immortal?” Was your next question.

“Well, I haven’t changed all that much since being brought back. I eat and sleep like normal. Though- I did find a gray hair the other day,” Adam mused, though upon another glance at you, seemed to ascertain your true question and adding, “But I’m definitely not rotting away- no limbs falling off or anything.”

With nothing else to interrogate Adam about for the moment, you simply began to admire Adam’s features again. Now that it had been pointed out to you and you could study him more closely, the undead aspects in his appearance were undeniable, especially with his glasses off. His chest barely moved, and you imagined it would be quite something to watch him sleep—or just sit still. And if the wounds were all incurred in a single accident—it was obvious he wouldn’t have been able to survive.

You were still unsure what the implications of it all were, if the fact that Adam was a reanimated corpse would matter to you once the initial shock of finding out wore off. As of right now, it was still an abstraction—you knew Adam was once dead, and could clearly see the evidence in front of you, but you also didn’t know the grisly details behind the process of bringing Adam back. You didn’t know if any of it mattered in how you viewed Adam.

All you knew for certain was that you liked Adam, fundamentally as your friend, and possibly as more.

“What are you thinking?”

You jumped slightly as you realized Adam was watching you stare at him, fear flashing across his eyes as he pretended the question was nonchalant.

“Just about how good-looking you are,” you recovered with a grin, a wry chuckle leaving Adam followed by a quiet ‘please.’

“What?” You scoffed indignantly, sitting up and staring Adam down sternly, daring him to try and argue with your assessment.

“Just thinking about what a great kisser you are,” Adam shot back, his wiggling eyebrows making you both burst out with laughter.

You leaned into Adam, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you and his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“I think I love you,” you had your eyes closed, nearly dozing off when Adam’s soft words snapped you back to reality.

“I think I love you, too,” you murmured in response. There was no feeling of regret once the word was out, and you decided not to overthink things while in the moment. You tilted your face up to press your lips against Adam’s jaw before moving down the column of his neck, smiling against the muscular flesh as you felt Adam’s breath hitch at the contact.

You were careful not to use your teeth—at least, not for your first time. For now, the entire purpose was to make Adam feel good, loved, worshipped.

You felt Adam’s entire body stiffen as your mouth moved along his clavicle and jolting when your hand slithered under the material of his shirt to rest on his hip, but when you pressed a kiss against one particular spot at the base of his neck he let out a strangled moan.

A fire lit within you as you became even more brazen in your actions, you tongue flicking out and sucking on the same spot and your hand moving up to Adam’s pec, your thumb swiping across his nipple. This time, Adam’s entire body shuddered and the hand that had been resting on your wast flew to your hair, his fingers twitching as though fighting the urge to hold you to that spot.

Getting onto your knees, you looked down to examine your handiwork, Adam’s head thrown back against the couch, his pants the only thing audible in the room and his eyebrows furrowed upward in a pleading expression.

Your eyes roamed downward, your arm under his shirt lifting it away from the tenting material of Adam’s sweatpants. Your hand moved from his chest down to brush over the front of Adam’s pants, his hips bucking up at the touch. You brought your hand to your mouth and licked from the base of your palm to the tips of your fingers before slipping it underneath the hem and ran it along his length.

“I don’t think I’ll last long at this rate,” Adam breathed into your ear as you gripped the base of his girth and lazily tugged upward.

You smirked at the admission, determined to see just how sensitive Adam was, pumping your hand faster and smearing his precum onto your fingers, his growing moans music to your ears.

“So sensitive,” you purred, reveling in the surprise that flashed across Adam’s eyes before pure pleasure from your attention overwhelmed him, unable to believe the words that were spilling from your mouth yourself, “When’s the last time somebody touched you like this?”

“N-never- Ah- never this good… please,” your name came out as a strangled cry as you lifted Adam’s shirt with your unoccupied hand to close your mouth over his nipple, rolling your tongue over the hardening peck.

Distracted, your other hand slowed in its movement and loosened in its grip, and Adam’s hips jerked upward in an obvious attempt to get more friction. You knew there was a very high chance that Adam would come too quickly if you weren’t careful, and you were enjoying teasing him more than you anticipated, wanting to keep him at the edge of orgasm so you could continue to hear his whines for more. His extreme reactions to your every touch made another question pop in your head.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?” You asked, reluctantly parting from Adam’s chest.

“It- I’m-” Adam clammed up, which undoubtedly meant the answer was either embarrassing or so long ago he had forgotten. You would put money on the former.

Licking along the shell of his ear, you stopped your movements entirely, though you kept your grip on the base of Adam’s dick, “What did you think about while you did it?”

“Few- few days ago…” Adam cursed, your reward for the answer a small jerk of your hand.

“Mhm…?” You prompted, stopping again.

“Had to st-a-y during a blizzard and s-saw you when I went to take- take a shower and-” Adam cut off as you started moving your fist again, nipping along his jaw and murmuring praises in his ear.

You remembered the night well, whispering a reminder that Adam insisted you took the first shower and a plan ruminating in your mind while you stood under the water. When you exited the bathroom and announced that Adam could go next you went to the guest bedroom to change, leaving the door slightly ajar—easy to miss walking past—listening intently for the sound of footsteps and your heart racing when you heard them stop outside the door.

Suddenly, the muscles in Adam’s stomach tensed and he let out a choked groan. Looking down, you could see white ropes of cum spill onto his stomach, your reminiscing distracting you from your careful edging. You continued your ministrations throughout his orgasm until Adam hissed in pain, too sensitive for your touch.

Taking your hand by your wrist, Adam wiped it down the front of his shirt, a dopey smile on his face as he looked up at you. You grinned back, admiring how fucked out Adam looked from just a handjob, pulling him in for yet another kiss. Perhaps you were addicted.

“‘M sorry,” he suddenly mumbled as you pulled apart, leaning his head back and throwing an arm over his face, “I didn’t mean to take things this fast so soon.”

You chuckled pulling Adam’s arm away from his face and kissing his palm, waiting until he looked back at you, “I’m not complaining. But, if you want to take things slow from here on out…”

“Fuck, no,” Adam said immediately, sitting up slightly and his hand gripping your waist, “I have to return the favor.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s eagerness, excitement bubbling within you as well at the prospect, but it was clear he was already struggling to stay awake, and you were overcome with the urge to kiss him again, speaking after your parted once again, “We can have a round two after you take a nap.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Adam yawned, letting out a small sigh in contentment, as his eyes slowly slid closed.

“I love you, too,” you yawned as well, Adam’s sleepiness contagious.

For the moment, you were satisfied to just be there, on a couch in the arms of the man you loved, to let the rest of the world move along at its own pace. Questions of practicalities and ‘what now’s could be dealt with at another time. For now, you were finally falling asleep.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #reader insert #zombie boyfriend #adam

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superredcorp · 5 years ago

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SUPERCORP FANFIC

I completely forgot to upload it on tumblr the entire week.

A week had passed quickly which meant Kara needed to go back to work, back to CatCo, since the week off, which she had thankfully been given to care for Lena, was over.

Neither one of them really liked that fact. They had both gotten used to being around each other all day.

Kara didn't like at all that she couldn't constantly watch over Lena anymore and therefore couldn't make sure that she was okay.

And Lena missed the presence of the blonde, the feeling of safety and warmth accompanying her everywhere she went.

However, Kara still came by as often as she could, making the whole thing a lot of easier to bear.

And if she was being honest with herself, a part of Lena actually didn't mind being alone all that much because it gave her time to learn how to be as independent as possible. She didn't want to be limited in any way and she wanted to prove to the world that she wasn't.

At one point, she decided to take a walk because she needed some fresh air.

Over the last days, she had practiced it some more and she was getting better. She didn't get panic attacks anymore and she hadn't gotten hit by a car yet so that was at least something.

And that day, it went well too.

However then someone bumped into her. The angle and the force with which it happened told Lena that this wasn't an accident but entirely on purpose by the person in question.

This time, Lena didn't want to back down. She was still capable of dealing with stuff like this. She had been doing it for two decades.

So she slightly turned into the direction where she guessed the person who bumped into her to be, at least roughly, and loudly exclaimed "Hey!"

The footsteps stopped and after a few seconds, a male voice angrily said: "What? "

"Excuse me, do you have a problem?", Lena said through gritted teeth, unconsciously twirling her cane in her hand, slowly out of repressed anger.

"You Luthors are my problem."

Lena opened her mouth to respond but before she could, a gush of wind and a hard landing of boots on the stone beneath them announced the arrival of a specific superheroine.

"If you had paid any attention to what's happening in the world, you'd know that Lena is nothing like her family. She's good and kind. And she doesn't deserve to be treated like this.", Kara, or well right now Supergirl, said - there was a certain kind of coldness in her voice, entirely foreign for her except for cases like this in which people she loved were being insulted.

The man scoffed. "Must be a cold day in hell... a Super siding with a Luthor. That's pathetic."

Kara furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't judge people by their names. I do judge them by their actions. Right now, I can only see one person who needs to be judged and that's not Lena."

The man shook his head, mumbling incoherently as he stomped away.

Kara narrowed her eyes, thinking for a second about following the man to talk to him further, maybe even somehow convince him but then she shook the feeling off. Some people just couldn't, and didn't want, to see reason.

Kara turned to Lena. "Are you-"

"I could have handled that. On my own. I don't need a babysitter.", Lena said harshly. "I'm not crippled. I can still do things myself, especially dealing with ignorant people. I've done that all my life and it wasn't my eyesight which enabled me to do that."

Kara's eyes widened. "I- I would never suggest anything like that. I- I didn't mean for it to come across like that, Lena, I-", Kara swallowed and frowned. She cleared her throat, trying to stop herself from falling into a stuttering ramble again. "I will always stand up for you. I would have done the same thing before the fire too if I noticed someone harrassing you."

Lena twiddled with her cane. Kara's voice sounded sincere. And of course, Lena knew that she was indeed truthful about what she just said. That there weren't any malicious intentions behind her actions. She had only her best interests at heart. She always had.

Lena sighed deeply. "I- I know. I... I shouldn't have gotten so defensive. I'm sorry. I just... I just want to feel normal."

Kara furrowed her eyebrows and stepped closer. "You are normal, Lena, don't ever think any differently. You're still the brilliant, kind hearted badass you have always been. You don't need your eyesight for that. You're amazing. You've always been and you always will be."

Lena couldn't help the small smile spreading over her lips and the blushing of her cheeks. "Thank you.", she said quietly. "I... I needed to hear that."

"Hey, it's just the truth.", Kara smiled softly. She looked down. "I'll touch your hand, okay?"

Lena thought for a second, then shrugged and said with a smirk: "Why do that when you could just give me one of your incredibly comforting, big bear hugs."

Kara beamed. "Totally agreeing with that. I'm really good at hugs. Come here."

Lena chuckled and let Kara embrace her tightly. She wrapped her arms around her as well, resting her head near the crook of Kara's neck.

She couldn't prevent herself from inhaling Kara's scent. It made her feel even safer, even warmer.

She had found that since she lost one of her sense, sight, her other ones such as hearing and smelling had improved a little. Of course not to superhero level but still noticeable. She hadn't been too surprised by this, she had heard of studies before which proved that the brain rewired itself to compensate for the loss.

And for some reason, Kara's scent had grown to be her favorite, calming her and reassuring her that she wasn't alone in this endless literal darkness.

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themenof--marvel · 5 years ago

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For Those We’ve Lost (Chapter 10)

Summary: It’s been more than a decade since Tony Stark and his daughter have made eye contact, or any contact for that matter. With the ever-looming threat of disaster and loss haunting Tony, and with the new Avengers Headquarters completed, maybe there was a chance for him to find a sliver of happiness in his lost family. After living in the shadows for so long, will his estranged daughter be willing to reunite? Will she even have a choice when she’s thrown into the chaotic world of the Avengers? Perhaps they both stand to gain more from this overdue reunion.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Daughter Reader

Warnings: none

**Non-canon storyline**

Taglist: sims-4-cc0707 @camu-winchester@xapham@just4muggles @aekr@sweetcarolinestudies@callie-bear15 @avengemepercy @phoenix-whiskey-tears@editsbyjennyifyousayyouloveme@scarletmeii@hailqueenconquer@spaghettirogers@colie87@strangemaximoff@onceuponagleepottermindlock@casuallydarktiger @therapitized1 @mj-liana@multifandomphenomena @sleepylunarwolf @dragonrosegardens @witheringblooddemon @gigiljoshler

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

A few days had past and that was more than enough for Y/N to get the general hang of things at the Headquarters. She saw her father at odd times, mostly just in passing through the halls or a small wave of acknowledgement out on the training grounds.

Most of her time was spent in the enormous lab, so much so that people began referring to it as her lab, rather than Tony’s. Having Skye around her constantly became more of a blessing than a burden. Having the program there came in handy when she began researching about Bucky’s background. Despite her urge to create something new and incredible, she couldn’t shake the need to impress her father by doing what he could not.

She’d pull all-nighters trying to get into the very basis of the structure of Bucky’s arm before she could figure out how to make alterations. She’d flit from the lab to her room, trying not to wake anyone.

On a couple of occasions, she’d pass Steve Rogers deep in thought in the lounge area, sipping on a mug of tea. Although she would have loved to discuss what was keeping him up so late, her mind always pulled her back to Bucky’s file.

The only thing that took her away from her work was handling her old apartment. Tony had Happy and a couple other people go to her apartment to pack up her stuff. Although she’d prefer to handle that on her own, Tony insisted on helping out.

Once she paid off her final month of living there, the Lease was dissolved and she was officially living at the Headquarters with the others.

About a week later, she had learnt just about everything of Bucky’s arm and was ready to begin making adjustments. As she began sketching out ideas, the lab door opened and shut.

“You do have your own room, you know,” Tony voiced, moving to stand over his daughter, quickly glancing at her sketches. He turned to the holographic image above her eyesight which showed the breakdown of Barnes’ arm. “Looking into Bucky?”

Y/N stopped sketching and leaned back in her seat, sighing. “I’m trying. It’s weird for him to have this steel arm, but it’s only useful of strength and breaking things.”

Tony nodded and replied, “I tried to improve it a while back, but had no luck. Eventually, I just moved onto fixing something else.”

Y/N met his eyes and offered an empathetic smile. “Perhaps I can take over that project then.”

Tony chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Looks like you’ve already begun.”

She leaned forward in her seat, studying the holographic display in front of her. “There must be somewhere to start that wouldn’t cause him too much pain.”

“You know that the guy survived a war, right? I’m pretty sure he can take whatever pain you throw at him.”

Y/N nodded slightly and responded, “True, but if I can diminish it, I will.”

Tony sighed and rest a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I’ll leave you to it.” With one reassuring grip on her shoulder, Tony strolled out of the lab, leaving her with her thoughts.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself to return her focus to the task at hand. Another all-nighter was in the making, but she vowed to make it worthwhile.

The following morning, Y/N sat up in her seat sharply, manipulating the holographic structure of Bucky’s arm. She moved minuscule pieces around, gradually making room to input something of her own making. Or rather, her father’s making.

As the shifted the last piece into place, she asked Skye to run a success check. After a beat, Skye responded. “100 percent completed with successful stability.”

Y/N couldn’t even hide her relief. She grinned from ear to ear, letting the tension dissipate from her shoulders. She rose to her feet and raised her hands to the ceiling in a full-body stretch. She was elated to finally come up with a technique that could actually improve Bucky’s arm.

Just as she breathed out, she knew she had to summon Bucky to the lab to run the idea past him. But first, a shower.

Freshly showered and clothed, Y/N rushed through the halls of the building in search of Bucky. Sensing what she was doing, Skye offered some well-needed information.

“Bucky Barnes is outside running laps with Steve Rogers.”

As Y/N landed on the ground floor, she nodded and thanked Skye.

Pushing open the front doors of the Headquarters, she trekked across the grounds to the track and field segment. Just as Skye advised, Y/N found the two soldiers finishing up their run, both trying to hide their heavy breathing.

She took a deep breath and made her way over to them.

Steve saw her before she approached. “Hey, little Stark!” he welcomed, causing Bucky to snap his eyes to her.

“Hey,” Bucky simply said.

She offered a subtle wave and turned to face Bucky. “Are you busy?”

Bucky placed his hands on his waist, still steadying his breathing. When he glanced down, damp strands of coffee-coloured hair fell in front of his eyes. He shrugged and replied, “Depends on what you’ve got in mind.”

At his suggestive tone, Steve scoffed and playfully shoved his friend. “Dude,” was all Steve could muster.

Bucky smirked but kept his eyes on you. “What about it, Stark? Got something tempting for me?”

Y/N’s optimism turned into annoyance as she watched the smug guy in front of her.

“You’ve been locked away in that lab for so long, I almost forgot what you looked like,” he teased, taking a confident step towards her.

Refusing to back away, Y/N held his stare.

“You should be outdoors more often; sunlight looks good on you.” Ever so smoothly, Bucky raised his human arm to move a loose strand from her forehead.

Still irked, Y/N raised her hand to firmly grip the soldier’s wrist. His startled eyes met hers, and just for a moment, she saw him falter. Confidently, she thrust his arm back towards him and took a step of her own towards him. Glaring at him, she finally responded. “When you’re ready to get that arm upgraded, come find me.”

One last look at his puzzled expression and Y/N turned away, returning to the building. She dare not look back at the soldier, wanting to hold onto her pride.

As the front door shut behind her, she let out a breath. She raised a hand to cover her heart, sensing her heart rate spike.

“What the hell?” she muttered to herself as the leaned against the nearest wall.

“You should try to get more time outside, Y/N,” Skype piped up.

What she really needed now was to get her mind away from this whole Bucky situation. She sighed and said, “Do we have any requests from the Dark Web?”

Instantly, Skye replied, “Quite a few, actually.”

She nodded and leaned away from the wall, heading for the stairs to return to her room. “Let’s get to work, then.”

With that, she resolved herself to spending the remainder of the day in her room, with momentary breaks for coffee and light snacks at Skye’s insistence.

#Avengers #avengers fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #stark daughter #stark!daughter #marvel #marvel fanfiction #original story #daughter!oc

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aldridgebay · 4 years ago

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Name: Cessily Summers

Pronoun: Female

Age and birthday: 26, May 15th

Residence Status: Local

Family connections: none

Occupation: Trainee hotel owner

Played by: Admin Emerald

Cessily’s life could have been a tragic and traumatic one given her origin and backstory but the reality she finds herself in couldn’t be further from a tragedy. Her relationship with her biological father lasted all of approximately 3 hours. Enough time for him to get into a drink and drug induced one night stand which had unexpected consequences. Not that he knew or cared about those consequences, when the deed was done he was gone, never to be seen again.

Her relationship with her biological mother lasted slightly longer. They were together for a whole eight and a half months before Cessily decided enough was enough and wanted out early. Her mother had been equally as drunk and high during the one night stand and never changed her destructive lifestyle while carrying Cessily. She had continued to drink heavily, smoke and do various drugs throughout the pregnancy.

Had it not been for a couple of good Samaritans Cessily would have been born literally in the streets of Eugene but the passers by got her mother, who was drunk and high on whatever her latest kick was, into an ambulance and to the nearest hospital. Miraculously Cessily was born without a hitch but she was completely silent as a newborn. For her own safety she was never handed to her mother but was instead moved to a special care unit so that she could be monitored for any side effects of being born prematurely - of which there were none that were obvious.

The red flags were raised immediately and after a single visit from social workers it was decided her mother was in no way suitable to bring up a child, especially given her reckless behaviour during the pregnancy and utter disinterest in her newborn child. Cessily was placed immediately into the adoption system and a brief search of approved families found the perfect candidates to take her in and give her a life on the completely opposite side of the social scale - the Summers family, shareholders in the nearby Aldridge Boardwalk and owners of the Summer Sun Hotel, also in Aldridge. The couple had been trying for a baby of their own for years but had been unsuccessful so they had decided to adopt. One look at baby Cessily was all they needed to fall for her big dark eyes and they started the adoption process, getting accepted almost immediately due to the profile of the family.

On the day they picked her up they gave her the name Cessily, after St Cecilia, the patroness of musicians. It was a name linked more to the hotel than the family itself as the hotel was marketed as a modern alternative to the Cozy Inn with up to date facilities and live music or entertainment throughout the summer season. The name was a symbol of Cessily leaving her very early days and the biological parents who had failed her behind forever. The accelerated adoption process meant the standard health checks were completed quicker than usual and a false-positive result wasn’t noticed and wouldn’t come to light until a few years later. Regardless; Cessily was a very happy and loved baby who was surrounded by family who welcomed her with open arms and doted on her maybe just a little bit too much.

Throughout her very early years some unusual quirks started to be spotted by people who spent the most time with Cessily, most notably her parents. When they found out later what was causing the quirks it was a case of the signs were all there but weren’t being looked for so the dots weren’t connected. There were a number of so-called ‘lucky escapes’ where a loud noise was accidentally created in or near the room where Cessily was sleeping but she didn’t stir or wake up. Cessily seemed more bemused than entertained by toys and rattles which made different noises and often gave the impression of being completely oblivious to anything happening around her that wasn’t right in front of her. She remained a very quiet baby, rarely crying but also rarely seeming to take an interest in what was around her as she ignored the radio, voices around her and was very slow to recognise her own name.

The moment of realisation came at a gathering of all the Boardwalk committee member families organised by Magnus. Cessily was old enough to sit unaided and was contentedly playing with a toy that had lots of different fabrics to stimulate her sense of touch. The fabrics were all different colours and each one made a different sound when scrunched as well. One of Magnus’ children had come bursting into the room through a door behind Cessily, screaming at the top of their voice as they ran around the room. Everyone in the room had jumped… except Cessily who continued to scrunch her fabrics. It was only when the other child ran in front of her that Cessily reacted and that reaction was surprise that the other child was there… like she’d had no idea they had just been running around screaming behind her.

At that moment the penny dropped in her father’s mind - Cessily was deaf.

A hearing test was immediately booked and the suspicions were confirmed, suddenly all the little quirks made sense. Cessily’s world changed almost overnight. Toys that did nothing but make noises disappeared, replaced by ones that flashed or buzzed or had different textures to feel. Nobody tried to get her attention without being in her eyesight any more either and they found she became much more reactive to them now that they understood what she was experiencing.

Further tests were scheduled to establish the extent of Cessily’s hearing loss and what the best course of action was going forwards. Her parents took sign language classes and began teaching signs to Cessily as early as they could. There was a delay in Cessily developing speech but that was to be expected now and she had a method of communication despite this. Her hearing loss was rated as severe - she could hear some things, but not much and not well.

Over the next few years further tests and research was completed to uncover how, if at all, Cessily’s hearing could be improved. Her parents and surrounding family had accepted that there may be nothing that could be done and she was already enrolled in a deaf-specific school. If Cessily remained completely deaf for the rest of her life she would still be loved and accepted but due to this being a brand new scenario for everyone involved they wanted a complete picture of what options were available to them so that they could decide what was best for their darling daughter.

The cause of Cessily’s deafness was found and it turned out there was a procedure she could undergo which could potentially help her hear better with the addition of hearing aids as well. It may not work or may not improve things by much but it was decided it was worth a go. Cessily underwent the procedure and had special hearing aids made. Her parents spared no expense, wanting Cessily as comfortable as possible they upgraded her to a private room at the hospital. Having been along for the whole ride with the family, members of the Boardwalk committee also got together to commission some custom made hearing aids with Cessily’s initials on them.

Her parents both say that their fondest memory of Cessily is from a few days after the procedure on the day the hearing aids were tried for the first time. Seeing their little girl sitting in her hospital room with her new hearing aids in and seeing the smile that truly filled Cessily’s face when she heard her parents voices for the first time. Her hearing was by no means perfect, but it was much improved.

Cessily remained at the deaf schools and continued her sign language classes, eventually picking up both American and British Sign Language as she saw tourists coming to visit the Boardwalk and staying at the hotel that were signing but she couldn’t understand. She took speech classes at school and also had a private tutor to progress her further which helped her become much more engaged in any Boardwalk gatherings that were held though she had a tendency to hold back in public or when surrounded by new people. Cessily picked up lip reading very quickly and the process was helped along by everyone that could signing to her as they spoke.

When she turned sixteen Cessily was sat down by her parents to have a serious conversation and the adults had agreed that it would be completely signed as that was what Cessily was most comfortable with. Cessily being adopted had never been a secret and she had known as soon as she had been old enough to understand what that meant, but the reasons why she was adopted had always been kept vague until now. Cessily was told everything that was known of her biological mother and how she had come to be in her parent’s care. They also offered to help find her biological parents should Cessily wish to meet them. The young girl was very grateful for the offer but there was nothing her biological parents could give her and she had no interest in meeting them. The offer was kept open so if at any point she changes her mind she will have the support and help of the family but Cessily can’t see herself ever changing her mind.

By the time Cessily turned eighteen she had grown into a somewhat shy and quiet girl in large crowds or when surrounded by new people but if she was comfortable and with people she knew she was able to have them hanging on her every word - even when she wasn’t actively speaking. Her mastery of lip reading, two forms of sign language and speech therapy meant that communication wasn’t too much of an issue for her and she was truly in her element when surrounded by her non-hearing friends as well.

It quickly became clear that Cessily wasn’t a comfortable leader, much preferring to be a follower and chiming in when she could. She definitely wasn’t one for presenting ideas in a grand way but the ideas were definitely there. What Cessily could do was watch a situation unfold, analyse it, then at the perfect moment step in with a quiet suggestion that was obvious to her but others were struggling to think of. She was a natural problem solver and once she was old enough she was invited to get involved in the running of the hotel, her parents completely looking past her disability and positioning her to take over one day and maybe even step into the Boardwalk committee when the time came.

Her father was thrilled to have an outside-the-box thinker in the hotel and Cessily was very good in her rather ambiguous and nameless role at the hotel so he always encouraged her to get more and more involved. Cessily enjoyed the day to day running of the hotel in the summer season, the varying people coming through always brought something new with them but she found herself getting bored and unengaged during the off season. Her father was rather disappointed with this but her mother took a more pragmatic approach and she encouraged Cessily to find her own interests and not feel pressured into anything related to the family business.

It was over a particularly quiet winter that Cessily discovered a love of art. The visual medium appealing strongly to her given her circumstances. She had a natural talent for it as well and with a lot of practice and hard work she developed her own recogniseable style. One of her proudest moments is watching her father hang a painting she had completed of the Boardwalk up in the hotel reception area. Seeing her father be supportive of something not hotel-based gave her the confidence to finally ask him for something she had been holding on to for a while - she wanted to go to university to study art. Seeing how much it meant to her, her father agreed and hid his disappointment that she may not follow in his footsteps and take over the hotel one day. Cessily surprised him once again though, as she so often did.

After studying hard and acing her degree in art Cessily had a wide selection of options available to her, but she chose to stay at home and return to helping with the hotel whilst still progressing her art online. Her father was thrilled with Cessily’s renewed enthusiasm and with her artwork serving as a more suitable creative outlet her ideas for the hotel became more focused and slowly began to increase in scale and scope as well.

Cessily’s story is in no way a secret and she is widely known throughout the town of Aldridge, not just for her presence at the hotel but now for her artwork as well which often focuses on some of the key town locations, showing off its best side as well as the variety of the Boardwalk throughout the different seasons of the year.

What is their opinion about the boardwalk and it’s effect on the town?

Cessily, of course, fully supports the Boardwalk. She has seen first hand the amount of work her father puts into it despite being under Magnus Beasley in the overall stakes but she also understands the Boardwalk’s success is directly linked to that of the hotel. One cannot exist without the other and she’s not about to let her family’s business fail because a few people don’t like the seasonal influx of tourists.

#vanessa marano #oc rpg #town rpg #new rpg #lsrpg #cessily summers #taken character #admin emerald #female

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lady-charinette · 6 years ago

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Soul’s Melody & The Cat’s Meow - Lukanette

Originally posted on FFnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12886816/3/Of-Compasses-and-Statues

Rated: T

Soul's Melody & The Cat's Meow

He didn't necessarily spy on people.

Chat Noir didn't spy on people.

Especially not girls at night.

A girl that, coincidentally, was his clumsy classmate and the girl he had saved from Evillustrator.

But still, Chat Noir did not spy on people!

He was immensely glad for the protection of his mask, if word ever got out that Adrien Agreste, Paris' sunshine model boy as the media had taken to calling him, was caught sitting on a rooftop eyeing the room where a girl was in, that would be catastrophic.

Shaking his head wildly, Chat Noir focused back on the situation at hand. A situation he wouldn't even found himself in if it hadn't been for a certain older brother of a certain quiet classmate of his…

He had no idea how Luka was in Marinette's room, how her parents had allowed her that, how Marinette wasn't freaking out about having a boy in her room, then again, perhaps she had gotten used to it with his monthly-turned-weekly-visits as Chat Noir.

But still having a boy she had just met was not even close to having a Parisian superhero in your room, he knew he would be freaking out and be up the walls would Ladybug grace him with her presence at the mansion.

He squinted, eyeing what they were doing even from the distance thanks to his enhanced eyesight.

They were talking.

That was innocent, that was good.

His gaze narrowed.

They were laughing.

His princess was blushing.

Chat let out what sounded like a mixture of a growl and an irritated hiss, ears flattening against his messy hair. He didn't think Marinette often invited boys to her room, sure he had been there once or twice as Adrien, even more times as Chat, but…still!

Chat Noir clawed at his head helplessly before bringing out his baton to call his lady. Perhaps she could help with his current situation.

No answer.

It seemed like his lady was preoccupied elsewhere, which left him alone to figure out his sullen mood. Usually Chat Noir was a relatively upbeat person, his civilian half was no exception, but tonight seemed like he would be meowling at the moon like the rest of his feline companions.

Well, after Luka left. He had to make sure his princess was safe, after all. Not that he didn't trust the male per se, he had been pretty cool after the whole incident with Captain Hardrock and the music festival overall.

Adrien didn't have a problem with Luka.

He didn't know why Chat Noir should, but he did. And he wouldn't leave until he figured out why.

It came as a surprise to see the boy in her room right when he was on his way to visit her, up until this point he had thought they only fleetingly knew each-other during the music festival.

A quick detransformation, an entire conversation with Nino and a bit of Plagg's nagging later, he found his answer. Apparently, during his and Ladybug's fight with Captain Hardrock, Luka and Marinette had somehow freed themselves from their chains and Luka had helped Marinette escape before he got captured by his akumatized mother again.

He was sure Alya had more details, but as far as Nino went, Marinette apparently admired his skills with the guitar and the fact he was a huge Jagged Stone fan and had gifted Marinette some type of merchandise of the singer.

But he liked Jagged Stone too. Granted, it wasn't his favorite singer, but he liked him a lot. Adrien knew how to play instruments as well. So, what was so different about Luka?

Chat found himself too curious to keep his distance any longer and, with all the stealth of his namesake, scaled the walls and was now perched precariously right above Marinette's window, thankful that the window was opened by a sliver, so the conversation inside was heard much clearer.

"Y-You really think so?" he heard Marinette's familiar stutter and wondered if the guy intimidated her.

He frowned. Nobody intimidated his princess except him! Well…Adrien…

He shook his head and concentrated back to their conversation.

Luka spoke next, "Yeah, I've said it before, you're an amazing girl Marinette." The praise made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and his claws dug into the rooftiles beneath him, "Is there something you can't do?"

There was a laugh, a nervous but flattered laugh coming from Marinette, "I-uh, w-well, there are a lot of things I can't do right! I can't sing or play an instrument at all, I'm not very good at dancing I have two left feet, I um, I can't-"

Luka chuckled in amusement, fingers strumming a gentle, soothing melody to calm her anxious heart, "But there are even more things you're great at. Relax princess." Chat Noir bristled.

Princess?

That did it.

Taking a deep breath, Chat Noir let out a series of the loudest and high-pitched cat meowls he could.

Both teenagers looked outside, where the full moon greeted them along with a few visible stars, "Is that…a cat singing?" Luka sounded amused and Marinette couldn't blame him.

The cat's meowling was so awful it was funny and she giggled, "I guess it is," her gaze narrowed suspiciously, "…Unnaturally loud," it almost sounded like the cat was right there in front of them. How odd…she didn't think cats mewling could be so loud and for some reason, it sounded awfully familiar…

Marinette stood up and closed the window, the cringy cat yowling dampened slightly.

Luka seemed to take it in stride, changing his previously smooth, slow tune to a slightly upbeat, faster one to match the cat's meowling, "You know, maybe we should find this stray and see if he wants to sing in a band with us," he chuckled and Marinette couldn't help but laugh as well.

Laughter.

Great.

Not only did his princess close the window, he could also hear the sound of Luka's faster melody playing on his guitar.

Was the man mocking him?

With a low hiss, Chat carefully dipped his head down, fingers tightly gripping the edge of the roof, leaning down just enough so he had a clear view of the two teens.

They were cuddling.

His claws dug into the rooftiles.

Oh? So they were cuddling now?

A chord struck within him then, something that made him pause.

Luka was again playing a soft melody on his guitar, an affectionate smile on his face as Marinette scooted closer to him on the bed, not quite touching, but too close to be completely friendly either.

Luka didn't throw his hands around her or anything, he was being respectful, but Chat could see the small smile on his lips, he was enjoying Marinette's company.

His heart uncharacteristically tugged when he saw Marinette having the same expression, along with the soft blush on her cheeks. She closed her eyes and listened to him play and Luka seemed content just playing for her, peering at her when she closed her eyes only to smile in amusement and what Chat thought was genuine admiration and affection for the girl.

With a heavy heart, Chat Noir straightened and extended his baton, vaulting off the roof and jumping his way home.

He suddenly remembered Alya and Nino talking about the compass on the Couffaine's ship home, how anything metal that comes near it made the compass go crazy, like the metal statue he had seen there.

For the longest of time, he had thought Ladybug had been his statue, or perhaps he had been the statue that, in time, would drive his lady crazy, just like a compass.

Chat Noir had thought he had been the statue, maybe, but now he realized it.

He had been the compass and in the recent instances, Marinette had started to become his statue when it was clear his lady would never consider him as anything other than a friend and partner and he started noticing his classmate more.

But now his compass remained where it was, pointing in the same direction she would be in.

It seemed like he had lost his statue.

"Well…" he whispered brokenly into the dead of the night, "…at least you're happy now…princess…" the song Luka had played stuck in his head, it was a slow melody that sounded the complete opposite of what he was feeling now.

Happy.

Thank you kindly for reading! Suggestions for improvement are always welcome!

#lukanette #with a pinch of marichat #jealous chat noir #luka couffaine #marinette dupaincheng #chat noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #fanfic #lukanette fic #chat noir starts meowling #luka plays along #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette

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terriblelifechoices · 6 years ago

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Does anyone else do the thing, where you write something and put it aside because a newer, shinier idea came along and then totally forget that you wrote it? And then you find it and go, oh, hey, this is neat. I wonder where the writer is going with this.

And then: Fuck. I’m the writer. The writer is me.

Please tell me you do this, or I’m going to feel really embarrassed. Because apparently that’s a thing I did.

Cleaning out the gdocs and came across this. My notes say I was writing it for @thesilverqueenlady which is probably why I was going for Graves in the style of Hannibal Lecter. I have no memory of writing it, or any idea where I was going with it.

IDK if anyone else is interested in reading it, but. Here’s an untitled, unfinished and abandoned ficbit. If you want to take this and finish it, please do.

In which Grindelwald demonstrates his wizard nazi tendencies with human experimentation. Graves is not exactly human anymore, but he refuses to let anyone make him Frankenstein’s Creature.

Graves had a list of things he wanted to do once he’d broken out of Grindelwald’s prison. He’d written it down on a scrap of fabric from a shirt that had long since been reduced to rags. He’d used his own blood as ink, for lack of any other available writing instrument.

Kill Grindelwald was the only thing on it, and once Graves realized that the concerned presence of MACUSA’s healers meant that he was free, that was exactly what he tried to do.

He honestly wasn’t sure how long he’d been Grindelwald’s captive – equal parts prisoner and lab rat. He’d tried counting the days at first, but he couldn’t account for how much time he’d spent unconscious in the aftermath of torture or Grindelwald’s experiments. All he knew was that he was different now: stronger, better, faster, and still not good enough to get out of Grindelwald’s prison. He’d taught himself to pick locks, to break curses, to escape – to survive – by whatever means necessary. He fed his rage and frustration into the thing he’d become – a test subject, the first of Grindelwald’s shock troops, useful for experimenting on but useless in every other regard because his rage helped him shake off the mental conditioning Grindelwald kept trying to implement.

Graves was fairly certain that whatever he was now wasn’t human anymore. Not entirely, at any rate.

MACUSA’s wards were nothing compared to Grindelwald’s. Graves ripped through them, dodging counter curses and hexes thrown at him by MACUSA’s best and brightest. He slammed into Grindelwald, too-sharp teeth bared in a triumphant smile.

“Miss me?” he purred, his too-sharp fingernails drawing blood.

It took four Senior Aurors, a house elf and Madam fucking President to pry Graves off of Grindelwald. Graves took some satisfaction in the fact that he managed to half-kill the bastard in the process. If Picquery hadn’t arrived when she did, he probably could have managed to finish the job.

“Director Graves!” she thundered.

Graves gave the silver chains around his wrists a contemptuous look. There was a reason suspects were supposed to be bound with their wrists behind their backs. Was this deference, to the man he’d been, or mere stupidity?

No matter. Graves flexed his wrists, straining against the chains for just a second, and then he broke them.

“Attacking a suspect in MACUSA’s custody is an actionable offense,” Picquery said, keeping her voice level and her wand trained on him. Her eyes were round with – what, surprise? Or was it terror? MACUSA’s cuffs were supposed to be impossible to break. “I should fire you.”

Graves looked at her. He’d been her man, once. He’d voted for her, bled for her, for MACUSA, for his people and not a one of the silly mewling sheep had noticed that he was gone.

Grindelwald’s blood was still on his fingers. Graves wanted to lick them clean.

Whatever he was now, it wasn’t an Auror. Graves wanted blood, not justice, and if he stayed here, he’d try to take it.

“You can’t fire me,” he said, making his voice sharp and cruel. He had to cut ties with MACUSA completely; had to slam that door shut so violently that the impact crumbled the walls around it to dust. “What right have you to my service? You let a genocidal fanatic walk among you, wearing my face, and not one of you noticed.” He dropped the badge he’d lifted from Grindelwald’s pocket during the scuffle on the table between them. “I quit.”

“You what,” Picquery said.

“I said I fucking quit,” said Graves, and Apparated out of the holding cells, straight to the front gate of the manor house.

The Graves family’s ancestral home was located in upstate New York, deep enough into the woods to shelter them from scandal, No-Maj’s and the occasional high society invading army. It was warded against all manner of dark creatures and spells.

Graves watched with irritated resignation as the wards lit up in warning, red sparks against the night sky like fireworks in July.

He licked the last of Grindelwald’s blood from his fingers and considered the wards. They were old, almost as old as MACUSA itself, and old magic couldn’t be bullied or intimidated into doing anything it didn’t want to.

It could be reasoned with, though. If you were powerful enough, or if your need was so desperate that it called and the old magics answered.

He drew one too-sharp fingernail – one claw, he might as well call it what it was – against the underside of his wrist and let his blood drip freely against the stones.

“I am Percival Richard Graves, master of the House and Head of the Graves family,” he said crisply. “I was born within the House’s walls. I am the only son and heir of Edward Gondulphus Graves and Helena Louise McAllister-Graves. I have walked the House and the grounds and the woods and offered blood and power to strengthen House and Home.

“Graves Manor is mine by birthright and blood, and by my blood I demand that you let me in.”

Making demands of magic old enough to have a degree of sentience was dangerous. Graves didn’t care. This was his home goddamnit. He would not cringe and play the supplicant when it was his by right.

The wards and the front gates swung open beneath his touch.

“Thank you,” Graves said, and went in.

The problem with the manor house, Graves discovered, was that it was located in upstate New York, deep enough in the woods to discourage visitors of any kind. He spent a pleasantly isolated week removing the dust covers and walking the halls, returning the house to its former glory before realizing that there was no one to share its glory with.

Graves didn’t particularly want to share its glory with anyone, much less have visitors. He wasn’t entirely certain that he wasn’t going to try and eat them.

He spent the next two weeks testing the limits of his humanity, checking his reflection for signs of change and seeing the same face he’d always seen: heavy brows, dark eyes, aquiline nose, more than a touch of silver at his temples.

He could have settled into a comfortably isolated routine, but on the full moon he felt an old familiar thrum in his blood. It was the one that said run.

Hunt.

Kill.

In Grindelwald’s prison, he hadn’t known that it was the full moon when he felt that thrum in his blood. All he’d known was that the urge to hunt and kill was calling, a siren song of destruction. He’d clawed his way out of his cell but couldn’t escape the prison. He’d scratched scars into the walls, his back, his arms. He’d screamed curses and rage and none of it had been enough. It hadn’t even taken the edge off.

Graves killed a deer in the woods with only the moon to bear witness, the forest lit up like it was daylight to his new and improved vision. He ripped out the entrails and left them in the woods, a bloody offering. The heart he ate raw; fear and adrenaline made the meat taste sweet. He brought the rest of it back to the house and stored it in the cold room under stasis spells. He ate it pan-seared and crusted with pepper, pink and rare and gamey.

“Definitely not human,” he told himself, and went to go fetch his spare potions kit from the lab in the old greenhouse.

Grindelwald had improved his sense of smell along with his hearing and his eyesight. The potions lab reeked to Graves’ nose, medicinal and chemical and wrong in the same way Grindelwald’s own lab had been. At least the lab in the old greenhouse didn’t reek of piss and shit and fear, the way Grindelwald’s did.

Graves gritted his teeth and brewed the potion to test for lycanthropy.

Properly brewed, Graves knew, the potion would turn silver if exposed to the werewolf pathogen. That was how the myth about werewolves and silver had gotten started; for anything else, the potion would stay the same muddy brown color. He pricked his finger and let three drops into the bowl, glowering at it when the potion turned a warm, burnished gold.

“What the fuck,” Graves said, and went off to the woods to sulk.

Boredom and a need for answers drove Graves back to the city less than a week after that. Whatever he was now, he wasn’t going to find any answers living like a hermit in the country. Too much isolationism and self-experimentation seemed like a guaranteed recipe for madness.

Graves still wasn’t sure of his control. He didn’t feel any particular need to hunt down and eat his neighbors, no matter how annoying some of them were, but he had to admit that some days they sounded more appetizing than anything he brought home from a restaurant – or worse, his pitiful bachelor attempts at cooking for himself. Food had simply been fuel, before. He hadn’t cared what it tasted like, so long as it had enough calories and nutrition to keep him going.

Food tasted wrong now: the ingredients slightly off, the meat not fresh enough, the vegetables not seasoned well enough to bring out their full potential. He found that he preferred steak tartare to steak cooked rare, which wouldn’t have been a problem, had he been able to eat anything else he ordered when he went out to eat.

He’d learned to live on half-rations while he was Grindelwald’s prisoner. Graves resigned himself to learning to live off of them again and probably would have, if not for Sarah Rogers.

Sarah Rogers lived in one of the tenement buildings near where Graves’ own lodgings where – he’d decided against anything ostentatious; it hadn’t helped when Grindelwald took him prisoner. Maybe here, where people actually seemed to know their neighbors, someone would notice if he went missing again. Sarah had a small, sickly son, and a husband who hadn’t entirely come home from the war. The whole neighborhood knew better than to try and intervene between Sarah and Joseph Rogers’ temper, but the shouting and the crying grated on Graves’ nerves, until he had no choice but to intervene.

“If you ever touch your wife and son again, I will know,” Graves said pleasantly, dangling Joseph out the window with every intention of dropping him.

“Don’t,” Sarah begged, clutching at his arms, trying to keep him from dropping the man who’d blacked both her eyes and broken at least one rib, if Graves was any judge. “Please, don’t hurt him. He’s all we’ve got.”

Part of Graves approved of the fact that Sarah was so protective of her mate, despite how Joseph treated her. But that was the part of him that Grindelwald had changed, and he knew it was the part he shouldn’t listen to.

“He’s going to kill you,” Graves told Sarah. “He’ll kill your boy, once you’re gone. It’s what men like him do.”

He might not have been human anymore, but he wouldn’t do that. Whatever he was, Graves wouldn’t kill children simply to secure his right to a breeding female. He definitely wouldn’t have harmed his own offspring.

“Please,” Sarah said again.

Graves sighed and hauled Joseph back into the apartment. “Fine,” he said.

If he left Joseph’s memories intact, Sarah would suffer for it. Joseph would assume they were having an affair, because he couldn’t imagine why anyone would intervene on her behalf otherwise. “Obliviate,” he said.

Joseph blinked in stunned incomprehension, the last fifteen or so minutes totally erased.

“Stupefy,” Graves said, and Joseph collapsed onto the floor.

Sarah rushed over to him, pressing shaking fingers against his neck. “I thought you weren’t going to hurt him!”

“I didn’t!” Graves protested, indignant. He was a creature of his word. “I just knocked him out. He’ll have a bit of a hangover in the morning, but he won’t remember any of this.”

“Oh,” said Sarah. “Thank you. Can you help me put him in bed?”

Graves made a face. This was what came of getting to know your neighbors. They expected you to be neighborly.

Still. He’d started this; it was only right that he play it all the way through.

He hauled Joseph into bed, catching sight of bright blue eyes peeking at him from the smaller bedroom. He winked. There was a squeaking noise, and then the eyes vanished and the door shut itself firmly behind them.

“Thank you,” Sarah said again. “I wish there was some way I could repay you.”

“Please,” Graves said. “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll just be heading home, then.”

The part of him that had been an Auror wanted to do more. Graves told himself it didn’t matter. No good could come of interfering with the No-Maj’s. If the fool woman wanted to stay with the man who would eventually kill her, that was her business.

He’d dropped his groceries in the entryway when he’d burst into the Rogers’ apartment. Graves thought about picking them up, but he suspected Sarah and her son would make better use of them than he could. The boy was sickly, everyone knew that. Fresh vegetables would do him some good. And Sarah could use some feeding up, too. How often did she go without, so her boy could eat?

“Your groceries,” Sarah began.

“Keep them,” he told her. “You and your boy need them more than I do.” They could probably make better use of them, too. He was a terrible cook.

He felt her eyes on him as he walked out of her building and next door into the one where his lodgings were. Pressed together close as they were, he could have heard Joseph’s voice and Sarah’s half-aborted screams even without the improvements Grindelwald had made to his hearing. He and Sarah knew one another in passing, and that was how Graves expected it to stay.

Sarah felt otherwise. She brought him dinner the next night – steak, a little too well done for his liking, but seasoned with a deft hand. Carrots and potatoes seasoned with fresh rosemary and cooked in the same pan as the steak, made savory with its leftover juices. Apples drizzled with honey, which he gleefully shared with her small son Steven, delighted by food that tasted good for the first time since he’d been changed.

“Steve,” Sarah protested weakly.

“He’s a growing boy, Mrs. Rogers,” Graves said, handing Steve another apple slice. “Apples are good for him.” He’d wolfed down the steak and the vegetables. Only good manners kept him from devouring the apple slices as well. “You didn’t need to do this,” he added.

Sarah set her jaw stubbornly. “I don’t take charity, Mr…?”

“Graves.”

“Mr. Graves,” she finished.

Graves considered the meal he’d just eaten. Sarah had kept just enough of his groceries for one portion of a meal. Joseph’s, or Steven’s, maybe. Not enough for herself, surely. Not unless the Rogers’ were used to surviving on considerably less than what Graves considered a half ration.

“Can I make a bargain with you, Mrs. Rogers?” he asked.

Sarah gave him a wary look. “What sort of bargain?” she asked.

Graves gestured to his bachelor lodgings. “I’m a bachelor, as I’m sure you can tell. I find my own cooking skills somewhat lacking, of late. I’d appreciate it if you could teach me how to cook properly. I can’t pay you, but anything you make you’re more than welcome to take home.” That was a lie, but he suspected it was the only way he could convince Sarah Rogers to take any food home with her.

Sarah hesitated.

“Please,” said Graves, giving her his best boyish grin. He nudged Steven, who echoed him with cherubic innocence: “Please?”

“Very well,” Sarah sighed. “How much do you know about cooking?”

“Assume the bare minimum to keep myself alive,” Graves told her, with perfect honesty.

“Right,” said Sarah. She considered his offer for long enough that Graves thought she would say no. “I can teach you how to cook, if you like. But I don’t take charity, Mr. Graves. Not from anyone.”

She should have been born a witch, Graves thought. She’d have been magnificent.

“Yes, Mrs. Rogers,” Graves said.

Sarah was a nurse, Graves learned, which explained her no nonsense demeanor and the faint smell of hospital-grade antiseptic that clung to her skin like perfume. She taught him how to select good meat - the way it was supposed to look, how fresh meat smelled versus meat that had been spoiled - and how to pick the best fruits and vegetables. She gave him cuttings from her own herb garden, maintained carefully in pots on the windowsill. She showed him the best way to season his meals to their full potential, and sighed, wistfully, when he produced ingredients she mentioned would be nice to cook with, if the cost of them weren’t so dear. (Graves tried to get her to take them home, once, and Sarah gave him a flat look. “How would I explain them?” she asked, pressing them back into his hands. Which, fine. Graves didn’t want to cause trouble between Sarah and her ass of a husband. Thank god Joseph’s sense of smell was nowhere near as good as his own, and Joseph couldn’t smell another man’s presence on her the way Graves could. Graves didn’t try to get Sarah to take anything home after that.)

“I think I’ve taught you everything I can,” Sarah said. She grimaced. “It’s not right, me spending so much time with an unmarried man.”

Someone had noticed, Graves translated. He sighed. “I wish you’d let me kill him,” he said.

Sarah swatted him. “You shouldn’t say things like that!” she scolded. “That’s not right, either.”

Graves shrugged, not especially bothered by her censure. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

“Fine.” Graves ruffled young Steven’s hair. He put a protection charm on the boy as an afterthought. A strong one; the one Aurors used to avoid near misses. He liked Steven’s tenacity. For a kid as puny and weak as he was, Steven got into enough fights for a boy twice his size. The charm for near misses seemed appropriate.

He let Sarah and Steven go back to their own lives, and went back to rebuilding his own.

Graves discovered that he liked cooking. He liked finding fresh ingredients, and working with them to bring out their full potential. He took to buying things at random, just to see what he could make with them. Then he bought a No-Maj cookbook, because the No-Maj’s had some pretty good ideas about food.

He experimented with cooking with magic and cooking the No-Maj way, which was slower and a lot more work. Graves drew the line at cleaning the No-Maj way, though. He wasn’t entirely human anymore, but he wasn’t crazy.

#my fic #unfinished ficbit #abandoned wip free to good home #percival graves #fbawtft

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