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spaceskam · 4 years ago

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retrouvailles

Summary: Kyle and Michael pick Alex up at the airport.

Tags: reunions, post season 2, fluff, POV Kyle Valenti

for @caitlesshea !! happy birthday, I hope you enjoy it!

ao3

“What if I set off a sensor or something?”

Kyle stopped, pulling Michael to a stop with a firm grip on his arm. Michael looked at him with wide eyes as if he didn’t understand why he stopped him.

“Do you have something on you that’ll set off a sensor?” Kyle asked.

“No, but what if, like, my organs do it?” Michael said. Kyle let go of him and sighed.

“Isobel has been on a plane before and she was fine,” Kyle said, walking through the entrance of the airport, “Besides, I’ve done a lot of tests and as far as I can tell, none of you have any metal that’ll set off metal detectors in your blood. You’re fine.”

“Okay,” Michael said, taking a deep breath before following.

They walked further into the building, Michael trailing him and very clearly uncomfortable. Which. Fair. The only reason Kyle was even here was because Michael was very clearly uncomfortable with this whole thing trip. Kyle was just kind enough to be his friend through it‒and also because Alex asked him to.

Twenty-eight days ago, Alex had to leave for some special secret military thing that he couldn’t talk about for special secret military reasons, but he promised it wasn’t a full deployment. It was just a short, month long trip because he was needed at the US embassy in Qatar. No explanation further than that, but, from Kyle’s research, it didn’t seem to be the worst place to travel, so he tried not to stress. Maybe he was training someone. Or something.

That didn’t stop Michael from being an absolutely hellish person to be around since Alex was gone. They’d apparently just got on good terms, a romantic prelude of sorts, when Alex found out he had to go and politely asked Kyle to keep an eye on Michael. They’d been speaking and Michael was staying sober and busy, but Michael was keeping busy by annoying the shit out of everyone else. Kyle was thankful Michael would have someone else to call at 3AM when he had some sort of scientific breakthrough and needed someone stat. Liz had started turning her phone off, but Kyle felt too guilty to do so.

“How many people a year go missing in airports?” Michael asked as they headed towards the waiting area. They didn’t have to go through any metal detectors to wait out here and so that seemed like the safest place to be, all things considered.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, I feel like a prime target here. There’s so many fucking cops and military people. How many people do you think go missing from airports that aren’t even reported because they’re just kidnapped by the cops and the military?” Michael asked. Kyle closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Your boyfriend is in the military and your brother is a cop,” Kyle said slowly.

“Yeah, exactly how I know how fucked up it can be. And I’m‒you know. They could have heat sensors on me and know, ” Michael said. Kyle resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Michael was just exaggerating as a way to release actual tension. He was nervous. But Alex was almost here and he was going to take over soon enough.

“It’s fine. Anyone tries to take you and Alex will literally kill them, just relax,” Kyle said. Michael furrowed his eyebrows and frowned like he was annoyed that he wasn’t being indulged which, to Kyle, meant Alex had been doing a great job at talking to him despite the miles between them.

Michael tapped his foot as they sat and watched the screen that displayed projected landing and take off times. Alex’s was on time, thankfully, and he should be landing any minute. Then Kyle wouldn’t have to babysit anymore.

“This is the sixth time Alex has come home and this is the first time I’m here to meet him at the airport,” Michael said. Kyle blinked and looked over at him, almost shocked with the honesty. More than almost. That being said, he kept his mouth shut and listened. “That’s a lot of times, you know?”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re here now. You guys were at a different place then,” Kyle tried. Michael took a deep breath and looked up. “Look, you’re just stressing yourself out because you’re nervous.”

“I don’t think I should’ve come. I don’t think he wants me here.”

“What? How the hell did you draw that conclusion?” Kyle asked, trying not to be too harsh about it. If there was one thing he learned from Michael and Alex, it’s that they were both fucking impossible. “Didn’t he say he wanted you here?”

“No,” Michael said, “He said I could come if I wanted, but no pressure. Sounds like he doesn’t want me here.”

Kyle’s eyes drifted to the monitor and saw Alex’s flight had turned green to announce that it’d landed. He just had to hold Michael out for a few more minutes and then Alex could do whatever Alex did to de-escalate his brain.

“I think he does want you here and he’s just so busy feeling the exact way you’re feeling to tell you that,” Kyle pointed out. Michael shrugged and stared at the screen that displayed all the plane landing times. His hands tightened where they rested over his knees. “Look, Alex is getting better with telling you what he wants, but no one is perfect and no one can heal super fast. He wants you here. It’s been a long time.”

“He’s been gone longer.”

“Yeah, he has. But something tells me this time is a little different,” Kyle said.

That something was Alex himself who Kyle imagined to be spinning around in an office chair as he waxed poetic about how good things were going between them. Better than ever before, namely because they were actually speaking while he was gone and they’d gotten a proper goodbye instead of Alex fleeing into the night while he was asleep. They had spoken about how, when Alex got back, they were going to start dating. They were going to be the annoying couple that is concerningly attached at the hip.

And, honestly, Kyle couldn’t fucking wait.

“What if he’s changed his mind?” Michael wondered.

“Then, knowing Alex, he’ll be honest and tell you to your face.”

Michael, groaning, sunk into the chair even further. Kyle rolled his eyes and reached over to pat him on the shoulder. He knew it was just pent up emotions. Alex would be walking out any moment now and all of his fears would be gone. He almost felt bad that Alex was by himself because he was probably going through the same mini freak out.

One day, hopefully, there wouldn’t be any hesitancy and he’d get to gag freely as they excitedly mauled each other in the middle of an airport. One day.

Time passed slowly as they waited for Alex to appear. Occasionally, Michael would say something off the wall, just to get some sort of reaction or response, and Kyle would entertain him and tug him back to reality. All things considered, this was the same version of him that called people at ridiculous times of day and night, just a little more anxiety-induced (as if that version wasn’t already anxiety-induced). Nothing Kyle couldn’t handle.

Something Alex would probably enjoy handling.

They had lapsed into silence for only a few seconds whenever a throat was cleared behind them. Kyle very casually looked over his shoulder while Michael quickly jumped up and turned to face him as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Kyle almost rolled his eyes, but he was too busy being thankful that Alex was stood there.

He looked tired, but he was in civvies and had his bag already and his hair was starting to grow out a bit again. His eyes were trained on Michael, clearly waiting with baited breath to see what to do now that they were face to face again after a month apart. Kyle would’ve felt like he was intruding if the situation was any different. But they were still figuring it out and they were both a little anxious and they definitely needed some kind of crutch. Kyle was happy to be it.

“Hey,” Kyle said, speaking first.

“Hi,” Alex said, glancing over at Kyle and giving him a nod with a smile before looking back to Michael.

“Hey,” Michael jumped in, his fists clenching and unclenching like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands before deciding to shove them in his pocket because he had nothing better to do. “Um, how was your flight?”

“Fine. Long. Had a layover in Dallas, lasted too long. Got coffee though,” Alex said, shrugging and smiling at him, “How was the ride here? Where’d you guys park?”

“Not too far,” Michael said quickly, “Waited to get an up close parking spot so you didn’t have to walk too far. I figured it’d be uncomfortable since you’ve had your prosthetic on the whole flight and stuff.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Alex said.

“Good to see you back,” Kyle said to spark more conversation. As soon as they just got a good hug out, they could just go to the car and leave and then Michael could drop them off at Alex’s house and they could do whatever they did in private with Kyle having done his job.

“Yeah, it’s good to be back. I like the work, it’s just challenging enough, but it’s good to be, uh, home, I guess,” Alex told him, though the word sounded a bit unsure as if he had a different word in mind.

“I bet.”

“Hey, um, I watered your plants,” Michael jumped in, still looking a little out of sorts. Alex smiled wider. “None of them died.”

“Thank you,” Alex said sincerely. Michael smiled.

Then they just stood there awkwardly like two teenagers before a dance. Kyle felt like he was supposed to shove them together to take pictures. Instead of doing that, he kicked Michael’s shin and gave him a look whenever Michael turned his head to him with a glare. His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath before looking back at Alex.

“I missed you,” Michael said slowly as if it was rehearsed and practiced. Kyle had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he looked away, giving them some semblance of privacy. “Like. A lot.”

“I missed you too,” Alex said, “And I was thinking that maybe we could‒”

And then Alex’s voice was muffled and, when Kyle looked over, they were very occupied with each other’s lips. Kyle huffed a laugh and pushed himself onto his feet and decided saying ‘ finally’ would ruin the mood.

“I’ll wait at the car, don’t stay too long or you might get security called on you,” he told them. Alex pulled out of the kiss long enough to laugh. His hands gripped Michael’s biceps and he squeezed.

“Come on, let’s just go home so we don’t have to stop again,” Alex said. Kyle scrunched up his nose, but he decided not to say anything more.

The drive home was pretty casual. Michael drove (for an alien, he was way too susceptible to car sickness) and Kyle rendered the passenger seat to Alex who shared the stories he could from his time in Qatar. He had developed a software for their embassay’s security a few years prior and they needed some updates as well as training their IT team how to work the updates, he’d said, and it gave him an opportunity to freshen up his Arabic. He’d spent most of his days at a computer.

If Michael and Alex held hands the whole time and bounced back and forth between who’s lap they belonged to, Kyle said nothing.

When they got to Alex’s, Kyle gave him a hug and they promised to go get lunch the next day. Then he gave Michael a nod before taking back the driver’s seat of his own damn car and started heading home, a smile finding his lips as he thought about it. Alex was happy. And not only that, but he and Michael were on good terms. Which was good.

Of course, he’d never admit it, but he kind of liked hanging out and working with the two of them.

It wasn’t until he got home, though, that he realized he had a text.

Michael Guerin: Thanks. You’re not as bad as you could be.

Kyle snorted and dropped his phone on the couch as he headed to the kitchen.

He was so glad Alex was back.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #kyle valenti #roswell new mexico #my fic #HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years ago

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Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 1

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 3.2K

Genre: Angst, Fluff,

Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol, overall pretty tame.

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;) Also the first chapter sucks and is more of an introduction so pls give ch 2 a chance lmaoo, it’s juicy, i promise.

You were exhausted.

Your second year of college had passed like a whirlwind and you didn’t even have the time to realise.

Deadline after deadline after deadline had passed and you finally handed in your last paper of the year.

You sigh in relief. The pent up tension leaves ur body and the stress seems to fade more and more as the seconds pass. You stare blankly at your laptop screen. Still not quite realising how you managed to write ten thousand words of scientific research just 3 days before the deadline.

You feel two firm hands on your shoulders, massaging you as a way to show comfort “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”

The voice and sudden skinship startled you a little but as soon as you realise who it is, you relax in his touch.

You remove your Airpods and look up at your best friend, Soobin, who sat down next to you at your favourite secluded table in the school’s cafeteria. It’s where your friends could always find you if you had work to do.

“I just might” you sigh throwing your head back. And suddenly a huge grin crept up your face. Which worked contagiously as Soobin instantly started to smile back at you.

“I did it. I finished all of the work.” You say putting your hand on your forehead dramatically.

Soobin chuckled nudging your shoulder. “I told you, you’d be fine. You always manage to pull through even though you procrastinate so much.” He says as he high-fives you.

You pout at his statement. Yes. It’s a serious problem. “I just-”

You stop your sentence midway as that god walks into the cafeteria. His confident stride to the soda machine dressed in simple athletic wear made your jaw drop slightly. He was sweaty, probably from basketball practice. His chestnut hair damp, cascading his forehead and prickling his eyes. He blinked a few times before blowing the hair out of his face with his pouty lips.

You swallow harshly at the sight and Soobin follows your gaze. You hear him chuckle, right before he flicks your forehead.

“Maybe if you stopped drooling over my roommate, you would’ve been able to focus.”

You send him a glare, kicking his knee under the table, making him yelp out in pain, which caught someone’s attention.

Yeonjun takes out his soda from the machine as his head snaps in your direction. He smiles and approaches your table. Your heart decided to do martial arts in your chest with every step he took towards your table.

You look away from his gaze quickly pretending to be busy with your laptop.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yeonjun said ‘bro-fiving’ Soobin.

“Nothing much, just the usual abuse from miss thing here,” Soobin says sending you a look as he rubs his knee.

“Abuse? I didn’t know you were into that.” Yeonjun says giving you a coy smile, and you nearly choked at his words, looking at him wide-eyed.

You try your best to keep your cool, but Yeonjun was leaning against your chair, inching dangerously close, looking over your shoulder.

“Watchu working on?” he asks cutting the tension.

Oh Yeonjun, always so friendly and interested. If only he knew the effect he had on you. Or the effect he had on at least half of the female and male population of your elite college.

“N-nothing. I mean I just finished it. It’s the paper for Mr. Davis’s class. The last one, so summer can finally start.” You ramble, not sure why you’re telling him all of these details. It’s not like he cares.

You take a mental note to shut up, stealing a quick glance from Soobin who was awkwardly shifting in his seat.

Yeonjun let out a chuckle, patting your back. “Good job, I knew you could do it. This paper will give you an advantage next year right?”

You look up in confusion. “How’d you know?”

“Soobinnie here told me that this paper was the reason you bailed on the party two days ago. Such a shame, would’ve been nice to have you there you know…” Yeonjun says a little lost in thought absentmindedly moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Was he? Flirting?

“I have all the time in the world now, so if you want to see me so badly, just give me a call.” You say confidently crossing your arms. You were testing him, and he seemed amused by your sudden confidence.

Soobin rolled his eyes at the two of you. Yeonjun is a notorious fuckboy. A star player of the basketball team, rich, handsome, charming but also his best friend and teammate. You were also his best friend that he had known since childhood, which means that the two of you were a recipe for disaster in his books.

The two of you planned to go to the same college since your parents pushed you to do so, but also because you two are joined at the hip since birth. Oh and did you mention that Soobin was the one with the full basketball scholarship, while you had to rely on your actual brain to get one?

Ever since you started college and were introduced to Choi Yeonjun, you had a meaningless crush on him. But since time passed and you got close to Soobin’s friends and vice versa, your feelings towards him seemed to escalate and you could tell that Yeonjun was into you too. You just didn’t know in what way.

Soobin always tried his best to keep you two apart because he didn’t want you to get hurt. Soobin knew Yeonjun was just going to be in it for the sex and is not ready for a relationship in any way or form.

But Soobin also knows that if you have set your mind to something, there’s absolutely no way that he can talk you out of it. You have always had a fascination for bad boys, wanting to fix them and then crying to Soobin about it when it didn’t work out. It might be the quality he hates about you the most.

But this time it was different. This time it was between two people that Soobin genuinely cared for. So he was against the two of you having any type of relationship other than friendship.

Soobin cleared his throat, diverting the attention back to him. “That sounds nice and all, but I think y/n will be going back home for summer. Right?”

You’re confused by Soobin’s sudden cock blocking and raise your eyebrow at him.

“No, actually. I’m not. Not this year. My parents are traveling through Europe so there’s nothing for me to go home to.” You say. Soobin knows about this. So why would he mention you going back home?

“Well. That’s great. Then we can finally hang out with the whole squad without any of us bailing because of school work.” Yeonjun says smiling.

“Anyways, I’ve got to go. I guess I’ll…see you around?” Yeonjun asks staring at you intently. You just nod in response giving him a smile, which he returned to you immediately. It was more of a smirk than a smile though and you could swear his eyes wandered to your chest, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

“See you back home bro” Yeonjun said patting the younger one on his shoulder before walking off.

As Yeonjun was out of sight, your head snaps back to Soobin, who was glaring at you.

“What was that about,” you say crossing your arms, fire spitting from your pupils.

“That’s so NOT happening” Soobin states taking a sip out of his water bottle while keeping eye contact.

“Excuse you?” you say lost for words.

Soobin just shrugs, he’s visibly annoyed and you know not to push his buttons right now but you decide to do so anyway.

“Listen, I know you’re practically my brother and all. But you’re not. So I don’t see why you need to act like you are, I like him Soobin. Let me explore my feelings for him a little.” You say in a hushed tone trying not to sound too bitchy, but Soobin just scoffs in response, rolling his eyes at you.

“It’s your feelings that I’m worried about y/n, cause he certainly doesn’t care. He just wants to fuck. If he actually liked you, he wouldn’t look at you like you’re a meal. He’d look at you with affection.”

You’re taken aback by his statement and you’re not so sure if you should bite back at him. Instead, you let him explain some more as you wave your hand at him as a sign for him to continue.

“I care about both of you. I just don’t want this y/n, because when worse comes to worst I will have to choose, and then I will choose you and everything will go to shit. I am his captain, we have the same group of friends, we share multiple classes, hell, we share a whole apartment” Soobin sighs massaging his temples.

“Ok…Ok…Jesus” you give in.

“I promise; I won’t engage” you pout.

“Good,” Soobin says. “Please for once just…listen to me. Trust me, he’s not the type of guy to want a relationship right now.”

“Ok.” You sigh. “But this means you and your girlfriend will be stuck with me all summer then.”

Soobin looks up, confused at how easy it was to talk you out of it. He smiles at you sweetly and his eyes disappear into crescent moons as he does so. “I can’t wait to get mani-pedi’s.” He laughs sarcastically clapping his massive hands together cutely while visibly relaxing in his seat.

Suddenly your heart gets all soft at the sight of the giant baby in front of you. In a way he is right. He’s telling you all the things that you already knew. And the last thing you wanted was to hurt Soobin for some dumb crush you had on a college boy.

“Soobin is just the captain cause he’s the tallest” Yeonjun argues.

You giggle at his childish statement. You were at the park off-campus with some of your friends. Soobin had his arm draped around his girlfriend Mia’s shoulder while she leaned into him. They were disgustingly adorable. And every time they displayed a little too much PDA all of your friends would throw snacks at them.

Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had also joined you on the picnic. You were sitting with your legs draped over Beomgyu’s so there would be enough space for everyone on the blanket you brought.

All of you munched on different types of snacks. And you tried your hardest to keep your distance from Yeonjun without making it obvious.

“Soobin hyung is the captain because he’s not as full of himself as you are” Taehyun said, making everyone but Yeonjun laugh.

He gave Taehyun the glare of death and pouted afterward to show playfulness. “I get no respect in this household” Yeonjun sighs as he throws an M&M at Tae’s head, which he dodged just in time.

Your heart did a jump at the sight of his pout and as if he could sense it, Yeonjun made eye contact with you.

He smirked, looking away when you did.

Mia looked at you, narrowing her eyes as she saw the way you two were stealing glances from each other like high school kids.

Mia was one of your closest friends whom you had introduced to Soobin in the first year. They started dating not long after they met. And from time to time you still remind them of the fact that if it weren’t for you, they’d be sad and lonely.

Mia knew you like the back of her hand, just like Soobin did. So keeping a secret from either of them was basically impossible. The two of them tend to gang up on you a lot. Even though you know It’s out of love and concern, it’s still really fucking annoying sometimes. Especially when it comes to your love life.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you say getting up. Beomgyu reluctantly removed his arm from your leg and uses it as a supporting rod for you to get up.

You smile and thank him, which made Yeonjun narrow his eyes at the two of you, which Mia also noticed.

Soobin however was lost in deep conversation with Hueningkai about some Math problems he had.

Huening was a freshman, just like Tae, but since they were on the basketball team as well, they were all pretty close. And they helped each other out whenever they could.

You admired their friendship and were happy to call them your friends as well.

“I’ll come with you,” Mia says untangling her man's arms from her waist as she tries to get up, earning a sad pout from Soobin in return. “Come back soon,” he said sighing.

“Don’t be disgusting” Yeonjun and you say at the exact same time. Earning chuckles from everyone.

You look at each other surprised and laugh like the two of you were in your own world.

This time, Soobin noticed, and you try your best to avoid his gaze.

“You two are just bitter cause you’re single” Taehyun stated throwing his head back in evil laughter.

“Well so are you, so are all of you except for them so what’s your point exactly” Yeonjun bites back giving Taehyun a beaming smile while stuffing his face with a handful of the chocolates.

“Ehm, shall we?” Mia nudged you and you nodded as the boys’ bickering became background noise while you walked off together.

“Why do chicks always go to the bathroom together” Hueningkai questioned with genuine curiosity.

“So they can talk shit in private,” Beomgyu said wiggling his eyebrows.

As Mia and you walked further and further from your spot, Mia looks over her shoulder to determine if it’s a safe enough distance to start gossiping.

“Dude” she nudges you while speaking in a hushed tone.

“Why were you and Yeonjun literally eye-fucking each other in front of everyone.”

Your eyes grow wide and you turn around facing her. “Eye-fucking” you repeat her, suppressing a chuckle while trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

“I think you’re seeing things.” You say shrugging.

“Am I y/n?” she looks at you with a stern expression, and this time you’ve had about enough.

You sigh in frustration as you open the door to the public bathroom entrance.

“Look, Soobin already gave me the ‘Yeonjun is a fuckboy so stay away’ lecture, I really don’t need to hear it again.”

“Soobin lectured you about not engaging with Yeonjun?” Mia says surprised.

You raise your eyebrows. “You didn’t know? I thought he told you everything.”

Mia sighs. “If you like him, who’s Soobin to tell you what to do with those feelings?”

Your jaw drops, in awe of the fact that she’s siding with you on this one. “But if he hurts you, I’ll break his ankles.” She says determined, with her psycho protective smile. Ah, there it is.

“Well. Soobin really gave me an ultimatum. He basically says that if things end badly, he would have to choose between us and that it’d ruin not only his friendship but the team’s teamwork and everything. I don’t want to have that on my conscience just because I’m lusting over Yeonjun.”

Mia nearly busted a lung laughing and you cocked your eyebrow at her in surprise. “What are you laughing about” you try to suppress a smile, amused by her sudden outburst.

“He. Is. So. Dramatic” she says still recovering from her laughing fit.

“He is?” you ask genuinely interested in her point of view.

“Yes, he is. Look I don’t want to be the one to push you into toxicity or anything but we know Yeonjun. He is sweet? And nice. And he has never given me an off vibe. I can tell he has eyes for you, the only problem is that a lot of girls have eyes for him too and that can become a problem. The issue is if YOU can handle that.” Mia fixes your hair while she speaks and you sigh.

She’s right. “But Soobin”

“Oh fuck Soobin, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just live a little. What’s the worst that could happen.”

“Did you pee out the whole lake? That took forever.” Soobin states yanking Mia back into his lap.

“I missed you,” he says nuzzling his face in her neck.

“Ok, gross.” Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

“There was a line” you lie walking over to Yeonjun’s side, sitting down between him and Hueningkai this time. This action earned a look from Soobin, who was basically cursing at you with his eyes, all while Mia smiled at you knowingly. It also earned a look from Yeonjun, he looked at you surprised but content, and he gave you a sweet smile, his facial expression softened immediately when you nudged him playfully as you sat down next to him.

The whole afternoon was spent laughing and bickering. Listening to the boys’ none sense and Taehyun making snacks disappear and appear with his never-ending magic tricks. All while the six of you were busting your brains trying to solve Hueningkai’s mathematical equations for his engineering class.

Yeonjun inched closer to you from time to time. The both of you were in charge of the music that was blasting from your portable speaker. You compared your Spotify playlists and noticed how much you have in common with him music-wise. It was fun seeing Yeonjun becoming all passionate about his favourite artists, it certainly didn’t help the fact that you were trying to keep a distance from him. Cause his cute little mannerisms and the way he gets so engrossed in his storytelling made you fall for him even more. Face first to be exact.

From time to time you would feel Yeonjun’s gaze linger on you. He’d ‘accidentally’ brush his arm against yours or he would touch your thigh, asking you to pass him another can of soda.

It was a lot, but you couldn’t say you hated it.

“It’s getting late” Taehyun says getting up. “We need to prepare for the party tonight”

his statement earned hums, moans, and groans from everyone.

“Whose party?” you asked.

“Johnny. That senior from the photography major” Yeonjun answered, looking at you with a hopeful expression. “You’re coming right?”

You smiled at him, nodding your head. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Dude this is a disaster,” you say rummaging through your clothes while you were on Facetime with Mia. “I don’t have anything to wear”

Mia rolled her eyes at you. “You trying to impress someone?” she said stuffing her face with seaweed chips.

You stare at her through the screen “Listen, you little shit. Just because you’re in a happy marriage doesn’t mean you get to be all sarcastic and judgy”

She snorted “Marriage!? Oh please. You’re just trying to impress Yeonjun and that’s fine. Just wear something that covers the least amount of skin, he’ll like it.”

“You’re a menace to society” you state, Mia shrugs at your choice of words and laughs. “But you’re right.” You give in grabbing a strappy lilac mini dress. “Then I guess this is contestant number one”

“Ooh, yes! Love that, wear that.” Mia enthusiastically exclaims giving you a thumbs up.

“Okay, that was a lot easier than I thought this was going to be, I’m gonna finish getting ready. You and Soobin are picking me up, right?”

“Yes, we are. Be ready at 11.”

“Alright, see you, bye”

“Bye.”

You throw your phone on your bed and hold the dress in front of your figure, looking at yourself in the mirror. You sigh, getting a rush of anxiety and butterflies in your stomach as you think of seeing Yeonjun again tonight.

Let’s see where this goes.

Chapter 2

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orangeoctopi7 · 4 years ago

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They’re Good Dogs, Stan

@forduary Week 2 is Fluff and Angsty, but this is ALL FLUFF! I’ve seen tons and tons of Gravity Falls AUs with Werewolf!Stan, but none with Ford as a werewolf. So I wanted to write one. I could’ve gone for Paranoid, pre-portal incident Ford and all the good angst that’d come with that, but I’m already a week behind, so pure fluff it is! * * *

Mid-September, 2013. Another summer has come and gone, the kids are back home in Piedmont, and the elder Pines twins are preparing for their next voyage. After a busy day of gathering supplies, Stan is ready to take the afternoon off. But Ford wouldn’t be Ford if he didn’t jump at every opportunity to study something strange. He’d gone off on his own, mentioning something about checking on a werewolf theory for Soos. Stan, after confirming that it was still a couple of days until the full moon, decided to stay home and catch a nap on the porch, enjoying the first cool evening in months.

It was now an hour later, and while the sun still hadn’t set, Stan was starting to get a little worried. If the supposed werewolf really wasn’t any trouble, surely his brother would’ve been back by now. Ford may have the tendency to get caught up in his work, but he wasn’t exactly the type to let a conversation or interview drag on and on.

In an effort to distract himself from worrying, Stan decided to help Soos wrap up the last tour of the day. He’d just seen the last bus off when he noticed a large, hump-backed animal moving through the forest.

"What is that, a moose?" He squinted through the trees, trying to get a better look at it to see if it was something dangerous. It definitely went on four legs, so not a Manotaur. The only other thing that big around here that went on four legs was that Bear-bear friend of Dipper's, and he was a dark brown color. Whatever this was, its fur glinted silvery grey in the late afternoon sun.

Whatever it was, it was moving fast, and making its way towards the clearing that housed the Mystery Shack. In just a few seconds, Stan thought he could make out what it was, but his cataracts had to be playing tricks on him.

It wasn’t a moose. It was a wolf the size of a moose.

The closer it got, the more weird details he noticed about it. He’d never heard of a wolf with curly fur, and was it wagging its tail?

Where the heck was Ford? He’d love to see this. This was probably some giant’s pet woofdle (Half wolf half poodle).

Wait...

Stan looked up at the almost full moon hanging just above the trees as the sun began to set.

He looked back at the running wolf just in time to see it burst out of the trees and tackle him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

The wolf licked his face enthusiastically as he tried to catch his breath again.

“Ford, you didn’t!”

The fact that the wolf looked guilty was all the answer he needed.

* * *

When Soos shared his theory that the mailman was a werewolf with Ford, the old researcher had jumped at the opportunity. Here was a man who, from the looks of it, would have been a child when Ford first came to Gravity Falls.

This meant one of two things: One, there had been child werewolves in Gravity Falls when he first started his research here, and he somehow completely missed it; or Two, this man had been turned to a werewolf in the last 30 years, which meant there had been an increase in werewolf activity while Ford was on the other side of the portal. Either way, Ford was very excited to ask him some questions.

He’d dashed off from the Mystery Shack, barely stopping to let Stanley know where he was going and confirming that the full moon wasn’t for a few more days.

Once he arrived at the mail-man’s house, Ford knocked enthusiastically. The seconds slowly ticked by as he waited, but no answer came. After counting to 100, Ford knocked again, a little more insistently. He heard something moving behind the door. He started pounding on the door, and didn’t let up.

Finally, he heard several bolts being undone.

“Hey, you need to leave in the next…” The stout red-haired man flipped open his phone and checked an app, “Two minutes.”

“Oh.” Ford answered with mild surprise. “Well, I’ll cut straight to the chase then! I wanted to know if there was any truth to the rumors that you might be a werewolf!”

The man gave Ford a confused look before answering. “Stick around for another minute and a half and you’ll find out.”

“Really!? But it won’t be a full moon for another three days! And sunset won’t be for another hour and a half!”

“No, but the moon’s rising in about a minute. Seriously, you need to leave.”

Ford’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Would you be willing to let me observe your transformation? It would be an unprecedented scientific opportunity!”

“Nope, too dangerous.”

With that, the man slammed the door in Ford’s face. He heard several bolts and locks being re-done. For a brief moment, Ford was reminded of a less pleasant time in his own life, when he himself had locked himself in his own house like that, both for his own protection and for the protection of the world outside.

The old researcher shook the thought out of his head. This was nothing like that.

Honestly, he just wanted to observe. It wasn’t like he was looking for trouble. He had survived for years in the multiverse, he could just peek through the window of a werewolf!

Luckily there were plenty of windows on the second floor that had the blinds and curtains wide open, presumably to let in plenty of sunlight. Or perhaps to let in plenty of moonlight? That was one of many theories he’d have to ask the man about once the moon had set again. Whatever the case, these windows would be perfect points of observation.

Ford climbed a nearby tree to get a better look into the werewolf’s home. He couldn’t see the transformation from here, but he could see what appeared to be the entire hind leg of an elk hanging by a couple of ropes in one room. Interesting… obviously this man prepared food for his wolf form, presumably to prevent any chance of the werewolf hunting local townsfolk or livestock, but why hang it in such a position? It wasn’t so high that the werewolf couldn’t reach it, but it would obviously take more work.

Well, he wasn’t going to see the transformation for himself from this window. The old researcher readied himself to jump to the tiny balcony in front of the next nearest window. Hopefully he’d find what he was looking for there.

The old man took a leap-- misjudged the springiness of the branch beneath his feet-- and crashed through the window.

Ford picked himself up off the floor with a groan. That window should not have broken so easily. Surely, the home of a werewolf should be better fortified! He would have to block the window with something if he didn’t want a werewolf loose on the town. He was looking for a bookshelf or cabinet he could push in front of the opening, when he heard a low snuffling sound, followed by an angry growl.

A reddish-brown wolf, twice the size of any Ford had ever seen, with an abnormally large cranium, was standing at the top of the stairs, glaring daggers at him. Ford was torn between reaching for his blaster to protect himself, or reaching for the new journal Mabel had made for him to start writing down observations.

Drat, I missed the transformation. He thought to himself. So it must be a rapid process. I wonder if that makes it more or less painful?

The wolf growled again, hackles raised, and Ford finally pulled out his blaster, being sure to set it to stun. After all, it wasn’t the wolf’s fault he’d stumbled into the wolf’s territory.

Unfortunately, pulling a gun, even a sci-fi looking one, was the wrong move. The wolf lunged at him before he could pull the trigger, fangs sinking into his forearm. Ford yelled with pain, punching and kicking the beast to get it to let go.

The pain of the bite was soon replaced with a strange twitching, rippling, itching sensation, that quickly radiated outward from the wound. He looked down and noticed the hair on his arm growing thicker.

Well, it looks like I’ll get to observe the transformation after all! He thought as he fell to his knees.

* * *

Stan was absolutely flabbergasted by the moose-sized wolf currently pawing at his fridge. It barely fit in the room, and he was pretty sure that wagging tail was going to knock the table over.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you’re hungry.” Stan muscled his way past the mountain of fur and pulled out an entire container of bologna that hadn’t even been opened yet. “Here.” he peeled the seal off the package and tossed a slice like a little frisbee. Wolf!Ford snapped it up in one bite. He looked expectantly at Stan and gave a pathetic little whine, hoping for another.

“Uh, I dunno if you should even be eatin’ this stuff when you’re like that.” Stan protested. “Pretty sure wolves aren’t supposed to eat people food.”

The wolf gave a little huff, but nodded in agreement. And wasn’t that wild, seeing a curly-haired wolf just make a human gesture like that?

The wolf headed back to the back porch door. He pawed the doorknob, like it was instinctual, but gave a little annoyed grunt when he apparently remembered he didn’t have thumbs. Next he tried to grasp the doorknob between his jaws.

“Oh no you don’t!” Stan shouted. “I don’t want teeth-marks all over my doorknobs! Or wolf drool, for that matter!”

Wolf!Ford shot him another guilty look and whined plaintively. Stan sighed and opened the door for him.

“I just let you in, what the heck do you want out again for?”

The wolf made a series of grunts and groans that were probably supposed to mean something, but Stan didn’t get any of what he was trying to say.

“Whatever, just don’t go too far.”

* * *

The wolf actually rolled its eyes. Stan didn’t even think wolves could do that. Of course, this was a werewolf, so maybe it could do things a normal wolf couldn’t. It dashed away into the forest.

“Hey! I said don’t go too far!” Stan shouted after him. The wolf was already out of sight. The old con man groaned. “Alright, fine, just be careful!” Stan yelled even louder, hoping his transformed brother could still hear him.

Ford was hungrier than he’d been since coming back to his home dimension, and while the slice of bologna had been tasty, it had been far from filling. Besides, Stan was right. Wolves probably shouldn’t eat processed meats. He was going to have to go hunting!

He took in a deep breath, enjoying all the diverse smells that had opened up to him with his transformation, trying to differentiate the smell of wild game from the smell of Farmer Sprott’s farm animals.

It’s probably a good thing Mabel took Waddles home with her before this happened. Ford thought.

He was able to pick out the scent of what he thought might be a mule deer. He snuck through the forest, finding that he could be surprisingly quiet for something so large. He got close enough to the mule deer that he could see the tiny twitching movements of its nose sniffing the air when it finally noticed him. When it finally caught his scent, it bounded away in an instant, and Ford gave chase.

As exhilarating as the case felt, there was also a sense of wrongness to it. He knew instinctively that he shouldn’t, couldn’t hunt on his own, and he found himself wishing desperately that Stanley was with him, even if he knew on some level that his brother wouldn’t want to hunt a deer and probably wouldn’t be much help even if he did.

The wind changed direction and a new scent, strange yet familiar, caught his attention. It was the synthetic, sterile smell of a human mixed with the pungent, musky smell of a wolf, not unlike his own. And he’d smelled it earlier, right after his transformation.

It was the mailman!

Another werewolf, stockier and more reddish brown than silver gray, was running through the forest, scaring the mule deer back in Ford’s direction with a loud howl. Now he wasn’t alone. Now the hunt felt right.

The deer zig-zagged between the two of them before the mailman finally came close enough to latch his jaws into its hind flank. It tried to kick the wolf off, but it had slowed enough that Ford was able to catch up himself, and then instinct completely took over. Before he knew it, the deer was dead on the ground, and the two werewolves were covered in blood, happily sharing the meal they’d taken down together. The one doe wasn’t enough to feed two enormous werewolves, but it definitely put more of a dent in Ford’s hunger than the slice of bologna had.

As they finished off the last of the deer carcase, the other wolf looked at Ford, and although no words were exchanged, a form of communication passed between them.

“You’re the idiot researcher who broke into my house.” The mailman didn’t seem angry, just bemused more than anything.

“It was an accident.” Ford’s tail and ears drooped.

“I told you to leave.” The mailman’s ears flattened and he gave a small annoyed growl. “But it is nice to go hunting with someone. I usually just hang up an elk flank for my own enrichment, so the local farmers and hunters don’t throw a tizzy, but this was much more fun!”

“I agree!” Ford wagged his tail, and his ears perked up again. “I’m still hungry, let’s find another deer!”

The two wolves continued to hunt together for another hour or so, taking down one more deer and finding a large nest of ground squirrels that finally filled them up. Eventually, dusk passed into full night, and the time that deer were the most active had passed.

“Well, we’d better do our best to cover our tracks and clean up after ourselves.” The mailman stretched and began burying the remains of the ground squirrels. “The local farmers and hunters will throw a tizzy fit if they realize there are a couple of wolves in town.”

“Is that why you usually lock yourself in your house?” Ford asked.

The other wolf nodded, and Ford was reminded that this was a man most of the time. “I’ve been chased by an angry mob a couple of times. Even shot at with silver bullets.”

“Really? Is there any truth to those old legends?”

“Well any bullet will kill you if it gets you in the heart or the brain.” the mailman replied with a growl. “Silver bullets will force you to transform back to normal, so as long as it’s not a serious injury, you’ll just heal while your body rearranges itself. I got shot in the hind leg, so the bullet just fell out as I transformed.”

“Faciniating! What is it about silver that causes the change? Is it just contact with silver in general, or does it have to be a bullet?”

Ford hadn’t realized that wolves could give blank stares like that. “No clue. I’m not rich enough to have access to pure silver.”

“Oh, it’s actually quite easy to precipitate out of Silver Nitrate, which you can purchase through most industrial chemical catalogs!”

* * *

It was getting late, and Stan was getting tired, but he was not going to bed until he knew Ford was safe. His brother had run off almost an hour and a half ago, and Stan had seen enough monster movies to worry what would happen to his brother if he ran into anyone else.

Unfortunately, following the wolf through the woods in the dark seemed more likely to get Stan into trouble than to get Ford out of it, so he decided to just keep vigil on the porch for now. He’d heard a few howls in the night, but nothing that sounded like a wolf in danger. He was just going to have to trust that his brother could take care of himself.

It was nearly midnight when Ford finally trotted out of the forest and into the light of the Mystery Shack’s back porch, dragging a mostly picked-clean deer carcase behind him.

“What the heck did you bring that back with you for!?” Stan exclaimed in disgust, looking at the trail of sineu, bones, and skin that now led up to the porch.

Ford looked expectantly between Stan and the carcase, nudging a bit of ribs that still had some meat on them closer to his brother.

“What are you thinkin’!? I’m not eatin’ that!”

The wolf actually did a double-take, as if he was just now remembering that his brother was a human who ate cooked meat that had already been butchered and prepared and sold in a supermarket, not the raw, still bloody remains of a deer that had been alive just three hours ago.

“I hope you realize, I’m not letting you in the house while you’re filthy like that.” Stan gestured to the dark brown dried blood that was flaking off Ford’s curly gray fur.

The wolf looked thoroughly shamed, and began licking the blood from his paws and muzzle, but there was a lot he couldn’t reach on his own. Stan rolled his eyes and grabbed the hose. It was way too late for this.

Ford gave a surprised yelp when Stan turned the hose on him, and he looked absolutely pathetic as he sat there and took it, the water making him look much skinnier and bedraggled. He whined pitifully as Stan placed his thumb over the end to increase the water pressure, and did his best to power-spray the remaining blood and dirt out of his brother’s fur. When he was finally satisfied that no deer guts would be tracked inside, he nodded with approval and turned the hose of.

The wolf’s tail hung low as he climbed up to the porch.

“Serves you right! You had me worried sick!” Stan reprimanded him. “And I should’ve been in bed two hours ago!”

The wolf gave another sad whine and tried to lick Stan’s face. He pushed his brother off, but also gave him an affectionate scritch behind his ear.

“Yeah yeah, it’s hard to stay mad at you when you’re a big fluffy dog.” He opened the door and let Ford back inside.

As soon as Stan closed the door behind him, Ford gave a tremendous shake, sending water flying everywhere, and absolutely soaking everything in the entryway, including Stan.

“Oh, I see how it is! You were just faking bein’ pathetic to take your revenge, huh?”

Ford wagged his tail and huffed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Stan stomped up the stairs to take a shower, while Ford picked his way towards the laundry room. The wolf pulled a towel onto the floor and rolled around on it to finish drying himself off. He would help clean up the entryway, but he didn’t have any opposable thumbs, so there wasn’t much he could do.

* * *

Stan went to bed immediately after getting out of the shower. It had been an exhausting day. He’d deal with Ford’s stupid werewolf escapades in the morning. Hopefully, his brother would be back to normal by then.

He’d just been about to drift off to sleep when he felt something huge and hairy flop down on the mattress next to him. Apparently, werewolf!Ford didn’t want to sleep alone, and honestly, Stan was too tired to try and shove him off, so he just snuggled into the great mound of fur and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, a loud cracking sound, like someone popping all their joints at once, woke Stan with a start. It was still dark out, although the first few rays of light were appearing on the horizon. Stan realized he was suddenly colder too, as though someone had pulled a blanket off him. He suddenly realized that the giant furry mass that had been sleeping next to him all night had been replaced by plain old human skin and bones.

“Ford?” Stan asked, squinting in the twilight to try and see if his brother had indeed returned to normal.

“Ugh… ow… It’s like having all your joints dislocated and then relocated at once… Ah, so I’m fully capable of human speech again!” The old researcher stretched and felt himself over. “Oh dear… I seem to have left my clothes back where I first transformed!” He pulled Stan’s blanket over himself.

“S’not like I can see you anyway.” Stan yanked his blanket back. It was cold this morning, especially now that the living space heater werewolf form was gone! “Go back to your own room and grab your PJ’s.”

The bed creaked as Ford climbed out of it, and Stan saw the blurry silhouette of his brother pause in the doorway.

“Stanley, I… I’m sorry.”

“Didja get hurt?” Stan asked sleepily.

“No. In fact, it was an incredible experience!”

“Then I ain’t even mad. Just lemme go back to sleep, ok?”

“It’s just… I know I worried you. And I’m sorry for that.”

“Great. Apology accepted. Go to bed.”

* * *

After the craziness of last night, Stan didn’t wake until almost 10:30 the next morning. He stumbled into breakfast the next morning to find the kitchen table absolutely covered in Ford’s notes, and his brother in the middle of recounting his experience to Soos.

“... And I’m not sure if it was some sort of telepathy that all werewolves share, or if my inner human consciousness was just translating the wolves body language and pheromone communication, but we were able to communicate perfectly, even about complex concepts like chemistry and legends and angry mobs!”

“Oh, hey Stan!” Soos greeted him cheerfully. “Turns out I was totally right about that mailman bein’ a werewolf!”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Stan rolled his eyes and grabbed a packet of oatmeal.

“I promise, I only went there to observe!” Ford assured him, “I had no intention of turning into a werewolf myself. But now that it’s happened, I’ll actually be able to observe and study werewolves first-hand! Which is perfect, because there’s still so much we don’t know! Obviously, it doesn’t have to be a completely full moon to trigger the transformation, so how full does it have to be? How is the transformation transmitted from one person to the next?”

“How are you gonna take notes while you’re a wolf?” Stan pointed out.

Ford opened his mouth to answer, but quickly realized he didn’t have one.

“Oh, dude we should get you one of those sound boards like that one dog on the internet has!” Soos suggested. He pulled out his phone and showed them a video illustrating his point.

“Hmm, I’m sure I could ask Fiddleford to rig up something like this, but a full keyboard!” Ford nodded as he watched the video. “I’m still myself as the wolf, so I should be able to spell out what I want to say. We could even connect it to a computer, so I can type!

“If you’re still yourself, then why the heck did you try and bring me back a deer last night?” Stan asked grumpily.

“Ah…” Ford blushed. “Well, I still retain my typical level of intelligence, it just seems there’s quite a lot of wolf instinct that gets superimposed on top of that.”

“Great.” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, I get that you’re excited to learn more about how werewolves work and all that, but what about after that? Are you just gonna stay a werewolf forever, or is there a cure?”

“Well, last night, the mailman mentioned that getting shot with a silver bullet in the leg will change you back without doing any lasting harm.”

“Yeah, I’m not shooting you every time your transformation is inconvenient.”

“But he wasn’t sure if just any contact with pure silver would do the trick. That’s just one of many things I’ll have to research in the future!”

Stan swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal. “We’d better call the kids. I can’t wait to see the look on Mabel’s face when she finds out you transform into a giant silver poodle under the full moon!”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Forduary 2021 #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years ago

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How DARE You Go And Die On Me??? - Jason Todd x Reader Soulmate AU -

Words: 2.1k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Jason Todd x reader soulmate AU pleasssse where when you touch them with skin for the first time there’s sparkly lights that only you and your soulmate see or something and you feel really warm and your soulmate glows or something? Thank you ❤️”

LINK TO PROMPTS -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I love this request. So much. I hope y’all enjoy this one because I really got to live out my famous science nerd dream. Thank you for the amazing request! I secretly love soulmate AU’s hehehe so please send more! Y’all are so creative with them too :)))

Soulmates were a sore subject for you. At a young age you glowed bright red, and it was the most crushing moment of your life. Soulmate glows only occurred when you touched your soulmate for the first time or when they died. Knowing this meant you would never meet your person was hard, but you hoped maybe you’d be one of the lucky ones who got a new soulmate, seeing as you were so young. But years later nothing had happened even though you stayed hopeful. Unlike so many who go off the rails once they realize there’s no one for them, you dedicated your life to researching soulmates, and it was incredibly fulfilling. As a high school intern working under a group of molecular biochemists, world renowned computer scientists, and psychiatrists you were worked towards creating a drug that made you glow in your soulmate color, it would make finding soulmates much easier and from there you could maybe make a sensor and go international with your research. Who wouldn’t want a drug that finds the person you’re meant to be with?

You’d been tracking soulmates to see if there’s any tell before they find out they are soulmates besides the glowing. It was painful to watch thousands find their life long partner but part of you hoped that by finishing this research you would be able to figure out if your soulmate was really gone, or get filthy rich trying. As just a teenager you planned on working for the company for the rest of your life, staying involved as you pursue your degree then returning, this project was growing up with you.

As far as you knew, soulmates were drawn together. That was the only explanation as to why so many people in your tests were soulmates. There was something almost magnetic about finding your other half, and you were convinced it was chartable. There was a scientific explanation for everything.

Finally the drug was ready, after months of blind trials and high highs and low lows it was time for the first wave of real life test runs. Grouping a couple thousand eager participants together, your team split into groups. Taking each participant into a room you gave them the drug and filled the color they glowed, and if anyone matched you’d bring them together. Of course all the interns on your team wanted to try too.

Stepping up you couldn’t hold in excitement. Since you were only newly a teenager you hoped your soulmate color would be cool. You’d seen some amazing colors and meetings all throughout the day. It couldn’t get more exciting.

Stepping up, you took the drug and waited.

And waited.

But you didn’t glow. “Hey uh Y/N you did say you glowed when you were little right? Sorry to break it to yah kid but yours is gone, we’ve got a couple hundred more tests why don’t yah go home?” a voice came over the intercom, and your heart sunk. Sure some people didn’t glow either, and they all had flashed at some point. Your hope was clearly misplaced. And with a broken soul, quite literally, you went home.

Years later you’d kept with the team. The drug was almost ready to be released officially, and the public was beyond excited. You were 25 now, a huge public face for the soulmate finder, you’d stuck with the program and it had made you practically famous. Doing PR you’d brought the drug on talk shows, finding strangers their soulmate on live TV, you made special appearances to celebrities to find and log their soulmate color. Everyone that took your test had their specific color logged in a huge database, so when you tested if your perfect color matched somewhere your soulmate would get alerted. It was perfection.

Tonight you were going on television to do another round of soulmate finding with a late night host. Nothing new.

“And please welcome, Cupid Herself, Y/N!” The crowd was always full wherever you went, everyone wanted a chance at love as soon as possible. “Now I’m very sorry to disappoint the crowd but we’re bringing out some celebrities who’ve requested a chance at love... I bring you THE WAYNES!” You were a little shocked, you probably should’ve read the brief but no difference, you had enough for about ten people. Standing up you shook Bruce Wayne’s hand, moving onto the chair at the side while Bruce and three of his children walked in. “Hello! Mr. Grayson, Todd, and Ms. Brown right?” the host greeted the three and shook Bruce’s hand, no need for his introduction.

“These three couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. As you know Mr. Drake-Wayne has found his soulmate and now husband so we couldn’t bring him! And my son Damian was erm- busy.” You saw Jason Todd snort, slightly taken aback by his actions on live television. “Can I just say, I am super excited to be here! It’s a huge honor Ms. Y/L/N this is too cool!” Stephanie got up, giving you a quick hug, you smiled, happy that she was so kind.

“Well lets get this show on the road! I’m sure millions want to know if any of the Wayne’s are their soulmate!” the host waggled an eyebrow as the crowd cooed. This was basically a chance at the lottery, a Wayne was a ticket to riches for life. Taking the lead you gave your pitch about the drug, taking consent before grabbing a serving for four. Walking up you handed a glass to each boy, finishing with Bruce, but he refused. “Oh no, I don’t want to know” he said softly. The crowd booed, and in a bit of a panic the host said “well then how about the lovely Y/N takes a drink? We all want to know if the creator has a soulmate!” you politely told him and the crowd you’d tried before, but there was no light, explaining how you lost is when you were younger. As you saw the crowd looking upset you decided it was better than nothing.

“How about I try it guys! Maybe something’s changed - find out live here on Late Night!” you pitched into the camera and the host nodded, cutting to an ad-break.

“Does this shit actually work?” Jason turned to you, swirling the liquid around cautiously. “Yes! We’ve been error free for five years!” you said proudly, this was your life's work after all. “And we’re back! How ‘bout we get this show on the road! Grayson you first?”

With a shrug Dick threw the little up back, and in a few seconds a cerulean blue glowed around him. The crowd oohed and ahhed as Dick smiled. “Any matches?” He looked to you. Glancing over at your guy who had snapped the exact color he shook his head. “Not yet! Dick Grayson-Wayne’s soulmate is still out there!” the crowd rumbled in excitement, everyone wanted a test now.

“Ms. Brown! Care to drink?” Stephanie drank eagerly, and quickly shone a deep royal purple and the crowd cheered. “No match!” you let everyone know and there was another cheer.

“Mr. Todd, you next?” Jason didn’t waste a moment, drinking the liquid he shone the brightest red you’d seen in a while. For a moment it reminded you of your red all those years ago. Looking over it was another no, and the crowd was almost losing it, many girls in the audience begged for a drink to see if they were his lover.

“And lastly Ms. Y/N! Ready to see the creator try her own drug?!” You corrected him, taking a moment to shout out all the amazing scientists, interns, and volunteers you’d worked with over the years. The crowd cut you off, chanting “DRINK DRINK DRINK” urging you to throw the cup back, the liquid tasted way better than the last time you’d tried it in the trial run. You help out your hand to show the lack of coloration and the audience sighed. Smiling sweetly you began to talk about the drop date.

“Thank you all so much! I’m so excited to release this with my team in just a month. I’d like to once again thank my tea-” you heard a shriek “OH MY GOD THAT’S JASON’S COLOR!!!” and the audience lost it. Confused you saw Jason’s jaw drop, and you looked at your hands that now radiated the same deep red from all those years ago.

“UM WE’LL BE RIGHT BACK!” the host shouted over the chaos. You immediately got up, rushing to the color scanner. “Holy shit Y/N it’s really Jason’s color.” he confirmed your suspicions and without thinking you sprinted back up to the sofa. Connecting your hand to Jason’s cheek the two of you began glowing the same color. Locking eyes with Jason, you couldn’t help but start crying. The aura radiated between the two of you and Jason pulled you into his chest.

The camera came on after the 20 second impromptu break. And what they saw made the news that night. “JASON TODD FOUND SOULMATE LIVE ON LATE NIGHT” “CAMERAS TURN ON AND JASON IS HOLDING HIS GIRL - TOO CUTE! CLICK FOR PICS” “JASON TODD CUFFED! SEE THE PICS HERE!” In just the few seconds before they could cut the cameras, millions of viewers saw Jason holding you, the bright red shining around the two of you while you clung to him. And the pictures were everywhere. Pulling you off stage you couldn’t wrap your mind around what had just happened.

“My- my soulmate died years ago. When I was a kid I took the drug and didn’t shine! This doesn’t make any sense!” you looked up a Jason and practically saw a lightbulb go off. “Well um, were you around 13 when your soulmate died? [ you nodded ] And you were about 14-15 when you tried the drug? [ again he was right ] Okay well long story I died and came back to life. And you must’ve tested when I was still gone” he finished and you almost passed out. “YOU DIED?” you screeched. And he clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Shh princess that’s valuable knowledge for family and soulmates only” it was slowly starting to register that you were in fact his soulmate. “Soulmates” you whispered, leaning in to hug him again. “Soulmates.” he confirmed.

“God I have never seen Jaybird this sappy in my life, you might be magical” Dick came up to you, shaking your hand and pulling you in for a hug. “You got a good soulmate Jay. By the way, can I have a couple servings early I’ve got a bet with Timbers that Damian’s soulmate is Jon and I need some soulmate help for myself?” you rolled your eyes and Jason tugged you back to his side. “Back off Grayson she doesn’t even know you!”

“A little protective already Jay? Poor Y/N get used to this sweetheart” Dick winked at you and you felt Jason tighten his grip around your waist. Dick backed off and Stephanie bounded up to you. “Oh my god Tim’s gonna die he’d totally wanna be here! Plus I bet Bruce is gonna have to do all sorts of interviews now hahaha. How are you doing girl? This is a lot! Welcome to the Waynes!” she said, pulling you in for another tight hug, and the seriousness of finding your soulmate hit you. “Oh my god I’m gonna have to do so much press. How did I not think of this. What are the odds oh no this is gonna be a shitstorm fuck fuck fuck” Jason interrupted you by squeezing your hand. “Uh I really hate press too, I mean Bruce owes me patrol for like a week for just tonight but, if you like, need me for something I can go... does that help?” he looked lost, but it was clear that he wanted to help, and it was adorable.

“I would like that. And it’s late. I’m exhausted. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow somewhere private? We’re gonna get stalked so maybe you can come over to my place?” you realized you just had to take it step by step, and finding a soulmate was the best first step ever. “Yeah, that seems easier.” Jason sighed, and the two of you exchanged numbers.

“By the way, what does patrol mean? And does the color red mean anything to you cuz it doesn’t to me and usually the color means something but it could not?” You saw Jason’s eyes widen.

“Erm, I’ll tell you tomorrow. It’s another one of those ‘family and soulmates only’ facts. If that’s okay?” you nodded, just happy to have a soulmate.

“Of course Jason, but just know I’m gonna give you a hard time for going and dying on me. Idiot” you stuck your tongue out as he winked.

“Only to make a perfect love story for you princess” and you groaned, but he wasn’t wrong. This one truly one for the books.

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baffling-bisexual-quack · 4 years ago

Text

Trouble in Paradise

HI, anyone who might see this! I wrote another oneshot (thorbruce). Hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Thor + Bruce are in relationships (Jane, Nat), but they aren’t completely happy.

Warnings: Cheating

Word count: 1668

“Banner!” Thor called out, catching the small scientist just before he went back into the lab, or as Tony called it, the Lair From Which Bruce Shall Not Return. Thor hadn’t seen Bruce in weeks. It wasn’t a matter of choice; there had been lots of missions in the past while, and Thor and Bruce were both now busy with their significant others. Bruce and Nat were officially together, and Thor and Jane were an obvious thing. Plus, Bruce had been on the edge of a ‘scientific breakthrough’, which were code words for ‘Bruce is having feelings he doesn’t like and is trying to hide’. Or it really was a scientific breakthrough and a robber had come in and stolen all of their ice cream.

“Hey, Thor.” Bruce mumbled before slipping back in to the lab and started to shut the door. He would’ve succeeded if Thor hadn’t shoved himself into the crack between the door and the wall, trying to have a decent conversation with the man.

“Owww.” Thor groaned as Bruce tried to shut the door, not realizing the norse god was in the way. Thor was wearing his armour, as usual, so some of the pain was taken away.

“Oh, jeez, sorry Thor. By any chance, did you want to talk?” Bruce said, a small smile on his lips.

“Yes, I did want to talk! How did you know?” Thor asked.

“Just a hunch. Come on in.” Bruce said, turning away to go towards the lab table. He went right back to his research, forgetting about his visitor.

“So, Banner! What are you working on?” Thor asked, going to the table and resting his hands on Bruce’s papers, making a couple of them slide out of the pile and onto the floor.

“I’m, uh, working on some stuff with radiation, you know, thermal, uh, diffusional restitutions- THOR!” Bruce said, getting slightly angry at Thor. The giant had knocked over some tubes with his hands, making bruce jog over to make sure nothing spilled on the floor.

“Many apologies, Banner, I-“

“Maybe just go stand in the middle of the room.” Bruce said, a little agitated.

“Alright then. I am sorry I meddled with your papers and tubes.” Thor said apologetically.

“No, it’s not your fault, I’m a scatterbrain right now and I’m kind of stressed, so the littlest things are pissing me off.” Bruce said, double checking his papers were in order. He then made his way back to the beakers to fix that problem.

“Ah. You should come out for a change! I believe Tony has a team bonding game going on.” Thor suggested.

“Um, not really in the mood.”

“I understand.”

There was an awkward silence after this remark, neither Thor nor Bruce thinking of a subject that wouldn’t offend anybody. Bruce finally broke it.

“So, how’s Jane? Haven’t seen her around in awhile.”

“Oh, Jane is good.” Thor said, sighing a little and looking towards the ceiling.

“Oh? Trouble in paradise?” Bruce asked cheekily.

“Tony used that exact expression! What does it mean? What paradise? I am not in paradise. What troubles? Did I do something wrong that affected a paradise?”

“Tony used it? Agh, he must be rubbing off on me.” Bruce chuckled. “To answer your questions, trouble in paradise is basically a shorter way of saying ‘oh, everything’s not perfect? I had no idea!’ Like, sarcastically.”

“Oh, so you’re saying my relationship with Jane is doubted by everybody, and they are using their midgardian terms to get around saying it to my face.” Thor answered.

“Uhm…” Bruce stuttered, looking around like he was trying to find a way out of this situation. “Guess you’ve got me there.”

“Well, they’re not completely wrong…” Thor said, a little quieter. Bruce gave him a look of empathy and confusion. “I just feel Jane is getting less enthusiastic to see me, and more like she thinks it is a chore I have to complete.” Thor finished, looking at the ground now.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry.” Bruce said sympathetically.

“It’s not important. How is Natasha?” Thor asked, avoiding the subject.

“Oh, um. Yeah. She’s… good. As good as an assassin can be, I guess.” Bruce said, turning back to his work.

“No, don’t do that.” Thor said, gesturing to Bruce.

“What?” Bruce asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Turn back towards your work. It means you are avoiding the subject.” Thor objected.

“Ok then.” Bruce said, facing towards Thor. “But this doesn’t mean I’m going to talk.

This remark was followed by a few minutes of awkward silence. Bruce knew in his head that Thor was just waiting for him to burst. Finally, he did.

“I just don’t know if I like Nat.” Bruce sighed.

“Wait, you do not like her? Not even as a friend?” Thor asked, looking quizzically at Bruce.

“No, I just don’t know if I want to, you know, go out with her.” Bruce said, looking at the ground. “Dammit it’s hard to avoid the subject when you’re facing the person!”

“Wait, what is wrong with Nat?”

“It’s not Nat, I just might… like someone else.” Bruce whispered, starting to turn back to his work.

“Who?” Thor asked. Bruce mumbled out an incoherent answer and looked away, not making eye contact with Thor.

“Pardon?” Thor said.

“No… one. That I could ever tell, at least.” Bruce responded, looking at Thor’s armour a little more than what would be considered friend-like.

“Are you sure?” Thor asked, walking back up to Bruce until he was so close Bruce could touch him if he extended his arm almost fully. Thor had his held tilted just a little, so he looked so innocent, so cute.

“Not… really.” Bruce breathed, biting his lip as he looked at Thor’s hair. Thor raised one eyebrow a little. “I mean, what if he... doesn’t like me back?”

“If you’re talking about who I think you might be, I do not think you have any problems.” Thor said, stepping a little closer.

“Thor…” Bruce started.

“Yes, Banner?” Thor asked calmly. He had moved so close to him that Bruce could feel Thor’s breath on his face as he looked up.

“I- you’re really- please-“

“Shall I put you out of your misery?” Thor joked, smiling a little.

“Yes, please, Thor.” Bruce responded. That was all it took for Thor to move the rest of the way so he was right up against Bruce. He took Bruce’s face in his hands and bent down, bringing Bruce up just enough for their mouths to meet. It took less than a second for Bruce to start kissing Thor back, hands making their way up to wrap around Thor’s neck as Thor’s hands slid down to hold Bruce’s sides. Thor pulled Bruce impossibly close to his body. The kiss only deepened when Thor felt Bruce’s tongue swipe against his lips. He let it in without a fight, eager for whatever Bruce had to offer. They stayed like this for a minute or two, until they had to pull away. Bruce was staring at Thor like a deer in the headlights, arms still around his neck.

“T-Thor, I don’t think… I mean I really want…” Bruce exhaled. “What about Jane and Nat?”

“I don’t know, Bruce.” Thor said, putting his forehead against Bruce’s. Bruce closed his eyes, enjoying one last moment before they had to face reality. “What do you want to do?”

“How do you mean?” Bruce asked, opening his eyes to look into Thor’s. Those big, blue eyes, as bright as the sky on a cloudless day.

“I mean, do we tell Jane and Nat? Do we pretend it never happened? Do we stay together and not tell Jane and Nat? Do we break up with them?” Thor began. Bruce wanted so bad just to go on with life, pretend he hadn’t finally gotten the man he always wanted, keep settling for Nat. But there was this literal god in front of him who had kissed him. It made Bruce want to reach for the stars, in a way.

“I think for now, we just…” Bruce started, moving his hands up to play with Thor’s hair. “Just… stay like this. For the immediate future, at least.”

Thor grinned a little, eyes gleaming with hope. “So can I kiss you again?” He asked, bending down so their noses touched gently.

“God yes.” Within half a second they were back at it, tongues sliding through their mouths, handing moving around, trying to claim the other body as their own. After a little bit of this bliss, Thor pulled back, picking Bruce up and setting him on the table. Bruce was surprised, but he rather enjoyed this turn of events. It was so much more than the empty kisses Nat gave him. Those felt robotic, unwanted. These felt passionate and full. He cupped Thor’s head again, hands running though his hair, begging for more. Thor responded by going downwards to suck on Bruce’s neck. Bruce moaned a little, spurring Thor on. Eventually, Bruce pulled Thor’s head back up, demanding attention from his lips. He brought Thor into another kiss, wishing the moment would never end. Eventually, he needed a breath, so he pulled away, settling for capturing Thor’s bottom lip in his teeth. Thor gave him a cheeky smile and returned to his work on Bruce’s neck.

“Are you enjoying this as much as I am?” Bruce asked, making Thor look up at him.

“You underestimate yourself, Bruce. If Nat hasn’t gotten that habit out of you, then I guess I will just have to.” Thor said, smiling devilishly. He leaned back into Bruce, kissing him soundly, not aware about the presence in the doorway.

Clint’s eyebrows went up in shock as Bruce curled his legs around Thor’s waist. “Ohhh boy.” He whispered, because he probably couldn’t say anything above a whisper right now. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and his arms rested frozen at his side. “I’d like to seem them explain this.”

#thorbruce #thruce #gammahammer #thunderscience #jane foster #natasha romanoff #clint barton #cheating #pls dont cheat IRL #i cant even really imagine bruce cheating #such a soft cinnomen bun #my science boi #with thor its a maybe #no offence thor #clumsy thor

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Lucien’s R&S - Regarding what books don’t say (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (关于书上没说的事) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN!🍒

A character featured in @lucienism‘s translation of his 2020 birthday event is introduced here!

More Lucien R&S from this event:

> regarding what books don’t say ♡

> my love rival older brother

> the victim who disappeared

> since that rainy night

[ Chapter One ]

Everybody knows that there’s an especially intelligent child in the neighbourhood.

His parents are both high-ranking scientific researchers. Although husband and wife have always kept a low-profile, quite a lot of rumours involving their child still flowed into the streets - He knew over ten thousand words at the age of one, read “The Brief History of Time” at the age of three, and could already engage in scientific research with his parents at the age of five.

As for how much of it is true or false, the neighbours didn’t delve too deeply into it. They just needed “someone else’s child” as an example to enhance the persuasive effect when dealing with their own children. “Brat, could you stop making me worry! Just look at that little genius next door. He already knows how to read books obediently at the age of five!”

As time passed, the children developed a strong resistance towards this little genius who rarely showed himself.

Unlike what their parents hoped, they didn’t see him as a role model for studying. Instead, they chose the naive and cruel method to express their unhappiness which had accumulated over the years.

[ Chapter Two ]

To the children, “isolation” is an extreme punishment. However, this didn’t have much of an effect on the little genius. He has always holed himself up in the study room, immersing himself in scientific materials which even normal adults find cryptic and difficult to understand. After classes in the afternoon, he would occasionally hear the clamour of playing, and would close his book temporarily, laying on the window sill to take a look.

He can easily explain how the human mind operates, but is unable to understand why the boys in the yard enjoy running after a ball. Each time he sees them running themselves into a sweat-drenched state and yet able to laugh heartily, he remains puzzled despite pondering over it for a long time.

Although he has considered directly asking the children in the yard for their reasons, he can detect the alienation in their eyes even from afar.

It’s as though they are magnets with the same poles. Even if he tried taking a step closer to them, they would naturally take a step further. This caused him to gradually feel that even though he was a human being like them, there were also some slight differences.

Since he couldn’t quell his bewilderment through a survey sample, he had no choice but to have a hands-on experience. As such, he, who rarely brings up wanting anything, asked his father for a small soccer ball.

Seeing his son take the initiative to ask for a toy for the first time, his father agreed immediately. He even completed his work on hand early, and specially took a half-day leave to accompany his son to play in the grass patch in the park.

In the midst of the pleasantly warm summer breeze, father and son have a few exchanges. However, aside from “hot” and “tired”, the boy didn’t obtain more helpful information.

He lifts up the strands of hair on his forehead, which have been drenched with sweat He trots over to his father’s side, tugging onto his sleeve.

“Dad, are you tired? Why don’t we go home?”

His father crouches down, taking out a handkerchief and wiping his son’s sweat, thinking he was saying he was tired because he typically lacks exercise.

“Mm? Are you tired? In that case, should we take a break before continuing?”

The boy shakes his head, returning the small soccer ball to his father.

“Dad, is this the wrong playing method? Why do other kids look especially happy when they play this?”

In response to his son’s dead serious question, his extremely knowledgeable father actually couldn’t find an answer.

Because of how busy work is at the research centre, he and his wife are mostly able to only meet their son’s material needs. Giving him necessary company completely exhausts their limited free time.

Those books don’t mention the things they don’t have time to teach him. The things that are crucial for “normal kids” have been neglected without realising it--

For instance, “friends”. For instance, “friendship”.

“The next time you want to play with the little soccer ball, you can bring it up to the kids in yard.”

“Mm.” The boy nods, not telling his father about the icy look in the eyes of the other kids. He holds his dad’s hand tightly, and they return to the yard.

[ Chapter Three ]

That brand new little soccer ball never appeared again since that day, and nobody knew where he hid it. Even so, every time after school ended, he would still gaze towards the clamour occasionally.

Sometimes, the little soccer ball belonging to the kids would fall into the courtyard of his home. But every time he returned the little soccer ball to them, the kids would turn around and run away without even a word of thanks.

The boy didn’t harbour much unhappiness towards the way the kids treated him, but didn’t expect that a “busybody” neighbour would seek justice on his behalf.

“Hey, you guys! You don’t know how to say ‘thank you’?!” A tall and towering neighbour appears before the kids, looking as though he’s about to chase them down. While calling him “Stupid Policeman”, they scatter.

With sharp eyes and agile movements, he grabs the kid who took the ball. Grabbing him by the collar, he brings the kid to the boy. “Okay. Where’s the ‘thank you’?”

The kid who was grabbed unwillingly says a ‘thank you’. The boy, face expressionless, responds with a “You’re welcome”.

Without sensing anything out of the ordinary, the man releases his hold the kid. Even without taking a few steps, he turns around to pull his face into a mocking scowl.

“Stupid Police Uncle, he’s scowling at you.” Upon hearing this, the man chases him once again. Seeing the kid fleeing in fear, the little genius actually feels like his pent-up feelings have been released.

After the kids run out of the yard, the man returns. He shouts after the boy who is just about to walk into the house. “Hey, Boy! You don’t have anyone to play with? Want to come over to my house to play?”

“No need. Thank you, Uncle.” With this straightforward response, the boy returns into the house. With a remark reminiscent of a human trafficker, he decides that he should not entangle himself too much with this adult.

Ignoring the rejection, the man crosses the fence, stopping the closing door with his hands. “Brother is very good at playing games! Anything you want to play is fine. If you want to learn anything, I’ll teach you till you know it. I’ll keep you company!”

“Uncle, there’s really no need.” The boy hides behind the half-closed door. This is the first time he's met an adult who is so difficult to shake off.

“Come to think of it! You’ve been calling me ‘Uncle’ since just now!” He rubs his head in an exaggerated manner, the main point of his words digressing to strange places. “Do I look that old! Just call me “Brother”. Come, repeat after me. “Brother Zihang’.”

“... Brother Zihang.”

“That’s right, that’s it! Remember it!”

“Okay, Brother Zihang. I’ve remembered it, Brother Zihang. May I know if I could close the door now, Brother Zihang?”

"You won’t be able to grow tall if you keep holing yourself up at home!”

Hearing this, the boy finally wavers. He releases his hold on the door slightly. “In that case, we’ll just play one round of international chess.”

“Can’t you play something more suitable for kids?!” Despite what Fan Zihang says, he elatedly brings the boy towards his house next door.

[ Chapter Four ]

This is the first time the boy has been invited to someone else’s home. Although he wanted to pretend that it wasn’t something new, his wandering gaze had already betrayed him--

Although there’s a huge difference between the entranceway and decor of the living room as compared to his house, the overall getup is still similar. The most shocking thing to him is Fan Zihang’s room. It’s basically a disaster scene left behind after a dinosaur stepped on it.

Fan Zihang doesn’t seem to mind at all. With a normal expression, he steps through the piles of various objects on the floor, towards the side of the bed. Sticking his butt in the air, he searches underneath the bed.

“First things first. Even if my opponent is a kid, I'm not going to give any chances. Also, if you’ve finished looking around, give me a hand in searching for it.”

The boy stands on his tiptoes, bypassing the scattered objects. With a face full of curiosity, he asks, “Do you really have a chess board here? Actually, I could head home to get it.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m certain it’s here!” Fan Zihang says in a completely unpersuasive manner. He searches the bottom of his bed, which appears to be a black hole. Seeing his persistence, the boy has no choice but to provide assistance from the side, helping him tidy up the pile of items which have been unearthed.

After a very long time, Fan Zihang finally finds the chess board. As excited as a child, he exclaims, “I’ve found it!”

His cry is accompanied by the sound of his head banging against the board of the bed. Covering his head, he crawls out from underneath the bed with the chess board. In the process of arranging the chess pieces, they discover that the black king chess piece has disappeared.

“I’ll go home and get mine.”

Just as the boy prepares to stand up, the not-like-an-adult-at-all neighbour stops him. He opens a box of small bear biscuits. Picking a whole one, he places it on the position where the black king is supposed to be. “With this, it’d be fine!”

This is probably the most abnormal chess piece the boy has ever seen. In less than ten minutes, he wins this game of “Small Bear International Chess”.

“Oh my goodness! You’re too strong! No wonder nobody wants to play with you!” Fan Zihang plops the “black king”, which the boy was about to checkmate, into his mouth. As though he’s taking revenge, he munches it with force.

“So why did Big Brother want to play with me?” The boy looks at the neighbour, who is propping his leg up without a care about his image. At the same time, he starts packing up the chess pieces.

He taps the boy’s temple, stuffing a small bear biscuit into his hand. “Because you looked too pitiful just now. When you were standing at the door earlier, you looked like you were about to cry.”

“I... I wasn’t...” His tone evidently weakens. Originally staring straight at the other party, he slowly averts his gaze. At a glance, it’s clear that he’s pretending to be courageous.

Fan Zihang didn’t expect that this kid, who appears so gentle and quiet, to have a pretty stubborn streak. He can’t help but be mischievous. He leans in front of the boy. “If you play another round with me, I won’t tell others that you were about to cry!”

“I already said that I wasn’t crying!”

Although that’s what the boy argues, he has been goaded successfully. He takes out a small bear biscuit and places it on the black king’s position, the calm little adult image completely tossed to the back of his mind.

“Very good, very good. You’ve got a fighting spirit. This time, I won’t show any mercy either.” Seeing that the boy has regained his vigour, Fan Zihang feels gratified, patting his head.

“You’re obviously very weak.”

The boy takes the lead with a white chess piece, ridiculing him unreservedly.

“This is an average standard, okay! You’re obviously the one who’s too strong! Kids like you would have been brought to take part in ‘The World’s Greatest Mind’!”

While joking, Fan Zihang also follows closely behind. His style of chess is free and laid-back. Or rather, he does it recklessly.

“You’ll be checkmated very quickly again like this.”

“So what? It’s chess - being happy is what’s most important!”

A cool breeze blows by slowly. The clamour outside the windows remain. But between the two of them, there seems to be the occasional sound of descending chess pieces, mixed with the sounds of scattered munching.

[ Chapter Five ]

Since that day, the genius boy became a regular visitor of the house of that Stupid Police Officer.

Fan Zihang continued getting off work early each day, and would bring the neighbouring boy along before heading home. His mother would sometimes criticise him for playing with a little kid at his age. But she’s extremely affable towards the boy, and would leave a serving of whatever delicious dim sum there is for him.

They would sit together and eat the dim sum, play games, and be pretty friendly with each other. No matter what the topic starts with, their conversation would always return to the same conclusion.

“Just look at yourself. Loafing around at this age.”

“Mum, it’s a good thing that my position is idle! It proves that there’s justice in the world, and that the civilians are safe.”

Aunt Liu doesn’t listen to such glib words. The more he says such things, the more worried she gets. With such a silly son, she’s worried that even by the time she gets old, he wouldn’t be able to settle down and form a good family.

Evident from the facts, Murphy’s Law does exist. The more worried a person is about something, the more it will happen.

Take for example, this particular evening. Fan Zihang, reeking of alcohol, walks into the residential area. His eyes are red, and one can’t tell if it’s due to crying or from being drunk.

Just a few hours earlier, he received a text during work from a girl he had been dating for several years. The contents of the message were brief and to the point - she wanted to break up with him. He was so frantic that he kept making calls, but even till his phone shut off from a lack of battery, he couldn’t contact the girlfriend who had suddenly bid him farewell.

Intoxicated, he supports himself on the wall and walks forward. Because he can’t find his keys, he starts pressing on the doorbell frenetically.

After a consecutive stream of ringing from the doorbell, the door finally opens.

The person who comes out is a boy whose face is full of distaste.

“Hm? Why is it you?” Only now does Fan Zihang realise that he had walked to the wrong door. He decides to give up on himself, squatting down and giving him a hug. With snot and tears running down his face, he relates his own tale of tragedy. “Boy, what do you think! Brother is so tall and handsome. Why would he get dumped!”

The boy is about to faint from the smell of alcohol. Even though he pushes and beats him, struggling violently in his arms, he isn’t able to twist out of the other party’s brute force. In order to escape as soon as possible, he ponders for a moment, thinking that it’s best to answer his question honestly.

“Truthfully speaking, I think it’s nothing strange for someone like you - who refuses to admit defeat even when playing games with kids - to get dumped.

“What I need right now is comfort! Are there bad friends like you out there?!” Fan Zihang lifts his tear-stained face, facing the boy. But the boy grasps the only important point in his words.

“We’re friends?” The boy’s question is particularly sincere, adding another blow to Fan Zihang’s hurt feelings.

“Boy, you really lack a conscience!! If we weren’t friends, would I accompany you to play chess every day and be easily defeated by you!”

The boy is suddenly enlightened, and the look in his eyes brighten. He says softly, “So friends share such a relationship?”

“Boy, the main points you get are really off the mark...” Seeing the boy look as though he just resolved a difficult problem boggling the century, Fan Zihang can’t help but laugh. The gloomy and dismal clouds hanging above him have more or less dissipated without him realising it.

“This counts as an honour to you, Boy. Your first friend is me, an amazing criminal police officer!”

“Mm, a useless adult who weeps to a kid after getting dumped by his girlfriend.” Over the course of their interactions, his refined and polite appearance has long since disappeared. He would even bicker to no end with Fan Zihang.

“You really aren’t cute at all sometimes! How can a person mature without experiencing some blood and tears!” Fan Zihang rubs his fuzzy little head roughly, filled with anticipation for his future. “Whether it’s you or me, there will come a day when we become very amazing people!”

He knows that their paths have conveyed only temporarily. He knows the two of them will eventually walk down completely different life paths.

But at the very least, at this present moment, they can cry and smile, smile and cry, supporting each other.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc lucien #cncancelled #baby lucien is such a SAVAGE

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lovelyirony · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, would you be open to IronAgent (Phil x Tony)? If yes, from the angst list (because /of course/ I look there first lol) 19: "Why did you wait until I moved on?" If you feel like it. Thanks! <3

never done this one before, but i like it!

Tony isn’t used to heartbreak. He’s kind of an asshole like that. Or maybe he is used to heartbreak, but he’s not quite used to people admitting that they don’t like him like that.

Phil Coulson was someone he met while at an orchestra with Pepper and showing up late and getting the wrong seat and falling asleep.

He was the one who jabbed him awake and explained why the orchestra was so important, and Tony saw how much he could appreciate it, and he wanted more of it.

So he asked. Phil said yes. And their first date was to a diner where Tony had to give Phil, like, eight quarters for the jukebox.

He was different from anyone Tony usually saw. Different as in decent, different as in he wore a white button-up shirt nearly every single day, and Tony liked it, but he liked it more when it was a bit wrinkled and Phil broke down and unbuttoned the top two.

They dated for eleven months and thirty days. They broke up in July.

In retrospect, Tony can see why. Phil was always interested in specialized security and was one of the best people to stay calm under stress. (Tony joked that it was because of him.)

Phil calls him in July. Tony is in Malibu, and Phil lives in Chicago, and he won’t allow Tony to pay for a plane or train ticket.

Now he knows why.

The phone call is short, mainly because Tony knows that he’s bursting with questions and Phil won’t answer them, because it’s considered rude to ask someone why they don’t want to choose you anymore.

Tony says okay. He says okay on the phone, which sucks, and it’s...

He calls Rhodey next.

“You okay?”

“Probably. Maybe.”

“You’ll be fine,” Rhodey says, in that tone of voice that Tony usually always trusts, but this time it’s different because Rhodey isn’t with him right now, he’s with his cousin in Florida trying to learn how to handle different beach-themed cocktails. Call it scientific research.

“Listen,” Rhodey says, “I gotta go. Ben’s taking me to dinner, but call me when you need me, okay?”

“Got it.”

He’s not going to do that.

Phil joined SHIELD. You can’t have personal connections, not really.

And Tony was as personal as they got, but he was also beneficial. Phil knows that if SHIELD ever caught wind of Tony being his, there would be talk. Talk about “why don’t you convince your boyfriend to get us weapons?”

“Why don’t you bring Tony Stark over? Let us in on some secrets?”

He can’t do that to him.

And relationships...

Best not to think about it.

It takes longer than thought possible for Tony to get over Phil. In many respects, he might not be.

But he goes out the next week and makes headlines dancing with all sorts of people and socializing and proving that he can move on. He will move on. He’s already moved on.

He bitterly hopes that Phil can see it.

(Phillip Coulson is busy fighting bad guys in a grocery store, but as he dodges a can of peaches being thrown at his head, he sees an overturned magazine rack. And there Tony is, smiling at a girl and-)

Tony keeps tabs on him, sometimes. He doesn’t often pop up. Tony doesn’t really look into security, because he knows that if he finds out where Phil is, what Phil is doing, it’s all he’s going to think about. And he can’t keep him safe, he can’t keep him protected.

So he focuses on weapons and business and making sure that Pepper isn’t too pissed off, because it’s like Pompeii 2.0 if that happens.

Coulson is in the office when the break-room TV is turned on and the news is up, and agents are crowding around.

“Back to work, everyone,” he says, but he stops when he sees the headline.

Tony Stark Declared Missing after Weapons Demonstration Gone Awry

He can’t breathe. He feels everything slam down, and he can’t let anyone know it’s all coming down over his head, so he turns off the news.

“Get focused,” he says. “I know at least one of you is supposed to be talking to our agents stationed in Liberia about a potential 084. Get it done.”

He goes into his office and stares at a framed picture of a Ferris wheel.

Just below that, folded up, is Tony kissing his cheek while he laughs.

And it might be done.

He wishes it wasn’t done, he wishes that he had never broken up with him. He’s always wished that, every single time he comes into his apartment and Tony’s plans for decorating their apartment when they both came back to Boston (Phil never did) were the talk of the night for many a night.

He can’t request any special information. He can’t risk it, doesn’t want to risk it.

Maria still catches him, because she’s Maria. She knows everything.

“You got personal history with him,” she says over a mutual dinner. She invited him to her house. She didn’t seem like a house person, but then again she also has coasters with embroidered flower bouquets on them, so there’s that.

“I’m not going to tell you anything about it.”

“Wasn’t expecting you to. Just wanted to let you know that I know.”

“And how would you know?”

Maria smiles, biting into the pizza that she has ordered and Phil hasn’t touched, but still paid half for.

“Because I’m smart and observant, Coulson.”

“You can call me Phil, you know.”

“Nope, rather not. But if you’re not discussing it, then it must have been romantic. I’m surprised you guys dated. For long, if I’m right.”

“Under a year,” he says.

“And you’re still this affected?”

“I broke up with him,” Phil says. “You know why.”

“You’re the dumbest ever,” Maria says. “You were dating the son of one of the best-known men of all time, and you think that you were putting his life in danger?”

“When you put it like that, it makes me sound stupid.”

“You’re not,” Maria says. “You’re smart. But Tony Stark isn’t exactly a saint. He knows how to fight dirty.”

Tony Stark just flew out of a cave and his first thought is the fact that he really wants a nice burger, and the second thought is that he’s wondered if he’s just invented something revolutionary.

It’s about two weeks after everything and he’s still finding trouble with his standard mattress that he gets a visit.

Strategic-Homeland-Whatever.

They call themselves a private security firm. Tony knows better, has seen better liars.

But Agent Barton is insistent that security is all they do, and they want to make sure that Tony Stark isn’t a danger to himself.

(What he really means, most likely, is that SHIELD has caught on to the little fact that his flight suit exists.)

Phil met Obadiah Stane exactly once, and exactly once is the only meeting you really need with a man who is the physical embodiment of an oil spill.

Barton calls him, says that he needs to get there now, the mission is going wrong. Coulson’s his handler, and as much as he’d like to send Maria or Natasha or literally anybody else, he is worried.

He finds Dum-E waving frantically, with Tony hunched over a counter and breathing hard, a blue light emanating from his chest.

“Tony?”

He turns around wildly, freezing as he looks at Phil.

“I don’t have time to deal with you,” he pants out, breath ragged. “Move out of my way, and stay out of my way.”

Phil witnesses Tony in his element. He’s always flown above the rest, but never quite so literally.

Pepper clutches Tony’s hand and he holds her close, and oh.

Oh.

Phil knows he shouldn’t have expected anything. He knows that it’s been years and years since they were dating, since they were each other’s everything and a half.

But it still kind of hurts when you’re not a choice.

They turn to look at Coulson.

“I assume that Clint is yours?” Tony asks.

“One of them, yes.”

“He needs to get better about lying, he clearly ate my leftover sandwich.”

“I’ll...talk to him about that. Everyone okay here?”

“For now. Need to tie up some loose ends.”

“I can help with that.”

“I don’t need it,” Tony says, and Pepper follows his gaze carefully before speaking.

“We would love the help,” she says, and Phil can tell that she doesn’t know.

Somehow-and Phil’s not quite sure how-that burns. Tony didn’t tell her about them. It’s egotistical of him, sure, but he kind of wants to be known as a part in Tony’s life.

SHIELD gets involved. They clean up Stane like he was never there, and there’s a press release about him having a heart attack in his sleep that is clearly not the case, but there are enough pictures of him eating unhealthily that it can kind of make sense when people look at some shitty news source.

Phil makes flashcards.

Reminds him of studying days, when he used to quiz Tony on Captain America trivia.

He stumped him, once.

Tony doesn’t like that Phil’s back in his life. He doesn’t have to like it.

But really, it just...

They used to be together. And they didn’t end because it got bad, they ended because Phil had a job and he didn’t want to be a couple because that would somehow ruin things. And Tony got it, really. The board wasn’t exactly pleased that Tony wasn’t hush-hush about his activities.

“What’s gonna happen, they’re gonna sue me? Ask me to stop?” Tony had asked, laughing. “I don’t give a shit what people think. They rely on me too much to afford to have an opinion cloud their judgment.”

Phil isn’t like that.

They danced together. He still remembers Phil’s order for food.

(Lo Mein with veggies, but he would never eat all of the veggies that were in there. Plus egg rolls.)

“If you just read the flash cards, you should be fine,” Phil says. “Trust me.”

“You waited to tell me that until I moved on or something?” Tony asks sardonically.

Tony listened to Phil twice in his life and trusted him.

The first was six months in, when he said “I love you” while they were lounging on the worst couch that Tony had ever sat in, in an apartment with a leak during rainy days.

The second was when Phil told him to live his life to his full potential on a short phone call.

Fool me once, fool me twice, and never again.

“The truth is...I am Iron Man.”

#tonyphil #agentman?#idk what it's called #phil coulson #tony stark #lovelyirony writes #not a pairing i would ever think of but one that was very interesting #i like it #pepper potts #rhodey #iron man #agent coulson

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 4 years ago

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Please Don’t See Me - Chapter 14/14

“FORD!”

The scientist in question snatched his hand back, just before the carnivorous plant he had been studying snapped at him with a second slime-coated mouth. A second mouth! It was located under the bulbous head’s primary maw, smaller but sharing the larger one’s distinctive jutting spines that seemed to function like teeth – hooked back to prevent prey from getting away. The infant plant was only as long as his forearm but when it was fully-grown the secondary mouth could easily be large enough to pick up small mammals from the forest floor, maybe even large raccoons or the occasional gnome.

Hmm. They might make for good pest control. Ford studied where the plant’s stem met the forest floor, trying to ascertain how deep the roots ran. If he could get his hands on a pair of good, sturdy gloves for protection he might be able to replant it in a pot and take it back to his lab for further testing. That would certainly be easier than trying to run tests on the fully-grown specimens dotting the forest. How old was this one, anyway? Ford pulled out his tape measure to record its size.

Stan slapped his hand away when it neared the hissing plant. “Don’t touch it! Didn’t you just say this thing was poisonous?”

“Venomous, not poisonous.” Ford corrected.

“You know what I mean.”

Ford waved away his brother’s concerns. “Don’t worry, it’s only a juvenile. Its venom hasn’t developed enough to do any damage. The worst it’ll do is itch.”

“I still wouldn’t be touching it if I were you.” Stan said doubtfully, hunkering down next to Ford to get a good look at the creature. The plant hissed and spat at them and generally made a nuisance of itself.

Ford smirked. “Look Stanley, it’s just as friendly as you are.”

“Hey!” Stan brandished a finger in Ford’s face. “I’m a friendly guy! Just not to weird-ass plants that try to bite my brother’s hand off.”

“It’s not like you didn’t try to bite my hand off when I reached for the ice cream yesterday.”

“Fuck you Ford, I called dibs and you know it.”

Ford rolled his eyes, reaching for the spade in his pack. He’d missed the easy banter between them. It had been missing during the whole Rebus fiasco, obviously; there was only so much sarcasm a wolf could convey through its eyes alone, and only so much a scientist could babble to his canine friend without it being… just sad. Even once the brothers had reconciled, Stan’s mind restored, Ford had worried that after nearly ten years apart the differences between them were far to great to bridge.

But in seemingly no time, Ford had fallen back quickly into the habit of trading quips and joking insults, laughs and rolled eyes and body language that sometimes spoke more than words. It felt far more natural than the forced conversations he’d attempted to make during his time in college. Ford had forgotten the comfort of having his brother nearby.

Of course, an adjustment period was necessary – perhaps made longer by the added factor of Stan readjusting to having a human shape. It was rather concerning, the number of times the man would forget to cook his food and instead tear into it raw and bloody. The first time that had happened Ford had been in the kitchen as well, and he’d stared with popping eyes as Stan nonchalantly sank his teeth into a raw steak.

Stan had hesitated, chewing slowly and swallowing before speaking in his gravelly voice, not bothering to wipe away a trail of blood rolling down his chin.

“…okay, yeah, I see what I did there.”

And of course, they were wildly different people who were bound to have disagreements. It had taken Ford quite some time to convince Stan that while they may argue, he was in no danger of losing his family again. He wouldn’t be sent away, punished or abandoned again. Not while Ford was still breathing.

The plant’s hiss brought him back to the moment. Ford frowned, considering his plan of action, before settling on the plain approach. They could simply carry the thing home.

“Can you get out one of the sample bags? I want to bring this specimen to my lab and they should be large enough to hold its roots.”

Stan rifled through the pack while Ford sized up the agitated plant. He would be able to dig up the roots if the darn thing would stay still! He would have to design some kind of muzzle appropriate for two mouths when they got it back to the house.

Ford made a lunge for the creature, trapping its stalk against the ground with one hand so it couldn’t bite him as he dug up its roots. The plant snapped at him fruitlessly. Ford quickly loosened up the soil enough to lift the whole thing and settle it roots-first in the awaiting sample bag.

Stan groused at having to carry the plant all the way home (one hand gripping behind its head, obviously, to stop it from biting). The whining was pretty unfair considering Stan had demanded to carry it so he could keep an eye on the snappish thing, but Ford supposed he could appreciate the intent.

(…on the other hand, that left Ford to carry the heavy pack. He was beginning to think that this wasn’t a purely altruistic move on Stan’s part.)

“When I took the job I didn’t realize ‘research assistant’ meant ‘gardener’.”

“I don’t pay you to whine, Stanley.”

“You don’t pay me.” Stan countered.

“Oh – don’t I?” Ford could have sworn he had been. Stan tended to handle the money so Ford had just… assumed that Stan was receiving some of it. He frowned. “Why don’t I pay you?”

“’Cause I live in your house? That’s kinda payment enough.”

“No it’s not!”

“It was when you thought I was a wolf.”

Ford spluttered. “That – that’s because you were a wolf. Wolves don’t need to be paid to act as research assistants-”

“Oh, are you saying wolves don’t deserve to be paid equal wages?” Stan shook his head in mock disappointment. “Gosh, Ford. My own brother-”

“Oh, shut up! You know what I mean!”

Stan snickered. He only laughed harder when Ford punched him lightly in the shoulder, careful not to jostle the creature in his grasp.

Ford glanced at his watch, taking note of the time. At this pace they would reach home well before dark. Maybe they should take a detour to check on the size-altering crystals? Ford had covered the Warped crystal with a tarp to prevent the light reaching it, but he really should check that the covering was still in place after the blustering winds that had recently swept through. He didn’t want any unsuspecting forest life to wander into its beam.

Then again, that could wait for another day, and they had a carnivorous plant to re-house.

“…I really do need to pay you, though.” Ford muttered as they walked.

“You really don’t.” Stan shrugged. “I’m not doing anything useful anyway.”

The nonchalance with which he spoke made Ford want to sigh. Stan never acknowledged his own value or input! Ford wanted to shove it down his throat and force his brother to acknowledge that he was important, goddammit!

For the moment, he settled on arguing his point.

“Shopping for food is useful; plus, the people in town know you better than me and I’ve been living here for years, so you’re basically handling public appearance. And collecting data from my monitors is useful.”

“That’s just walking and taking readings.” Stan argued right back. “A monkey could do that data-collection stuff.”

“Babysitting Tate while Fiddleford and I are busy is useful.”

“The kid’s easy, he just wants to spend time with a dog all day.”

“Defending the house from griffins is useful.” Especially since they seemed to have it out for the Pines twins and would come by every so often with claws and beaks bared.

“You woulda just found a better way to keep ‘em away.”

Ford gritted his teeth. “You handle the money and pay the bills.”

“It’s your grant money, I just budget it.”

“Exactly! That is exactly what I should pay you for!” Ford flung up his arms in exasperation. Stan merely shrugged, and – smirked? He was enjoying Ford’s misery! “Ugh, whatever.”

Stan continued to look smug. Ford silently resolved to start paying him, even if he had to sneak the money into his brother’s bank account. Or just leave some around the house. Apparently Stan was too proud to accept payment but the guy never passed up an opportunity to take it if it was there.

“…anyway, about the whole money thing, I was thinking.” Stan mumbled, a little more subdued. Ford glanced across.

“Yes?”

“Eh – well, y’know how there are so many cool things around here? If Pa’d let us come, we woulda loved it here when we were kids.”

Ford imagined himself as a child – bright-eyed and eager to learn, marveling at everything around him – and was inclined to agree.

“And just yesterday you were sayin’ about how no one appreciates this stuff. Really, I’m kinda surprised no one’s made something of this place before, snatched it up for a tourist attraction. I was thinking that it would be pretty cool to give… tours or something?”

Ford opened his mouth but his brother was already rushing ahead, a nervous scowl affixed to his face.

“It’s all good if you don’t want me to – probably something about the scientific integrity of the place or whatever – but, it’s kinda something I’m good at. Tours, selling stuff, talking to people, that stuff. A-And I know you love teaching people about things, so if you wanted to help? Like, write up information sheets or – or do classes or whatever. Obviously I’d be spinning some yarns, that’s the fun of these places, but I know people would love to see some of the weird stuff here and actually learn about it too, so I dunno, I think it would be cool?”

All of this was said rather quickly, with few breaths taken in between, so when Stan finally ran out of things to say he took a few heavy breaths. Ford blinked and took a few moments to process this.

“Stan, are you asking my permission to open a tourist trap?”

The werewolf cringed, grip tightening fractionally around the uselessly-wriggling plant creature. “No, ‘course not. I’m just… seein’ if you’d be open to the idea.”

“Well…” Ford adjusted the straps of his pack. “So long as it doesn’t interfere with my research, I think it’s quite an interesting prospect. It would be nice to be able to share some of the things I’ve learned. If you think you can pull it off I believe you. You don’t need my permission, of course, but you certainly have my support.”

“Wait, really?”

Ford laughed as his brother perked up. That was another thing he’d had to adjust to since their reunion – canines tended to express themselves heavily through body language and Stan had apparently picked up that trait. He had no tail at the moment but from the straight posture and slight vibrating, Ford imagined it would be wagging.

“’Cause I’ve got so many ideas.” Stanley gushed. “I was thinking I could get a place set up, probably in the woods closer to town – maybe contract that lumberjack guy you talked about to built it? Anyways, I’d fill it with attractions, some of the cool shit that lives around here. Like, you know that weird-ass bird we saw the other day, the one you said we shouldn’t bother to look into?”

“Having a second head is a fairly common mutation. I’ve studied several animals with that phenotype in my time here.”

“People eat that stuff up, Ford! And I could do tours around some of the harmless places – and charge a pretty penny for it too. You know how many shmucks are happy to get ripped off by dodgy fake tourist attractions? And this one would be real! I’d have a source of income, and you’d have somewhere to put the stuff you’ve finished researching, and people to teach if you want to. Plus this crummy town could use some tourists to give business a boost.”

Wow. Stan had evidently thought this whole thing out – and the excitement was contagious. Ford wondered if this was how his brother felt, when he himself became giddy about a new finding or breakthrough. Stan was grinning like a kid.

Ford laughed and elbowed him playfully. “It’s a sound plan. And it’s nice to see you’re putting aside your history with Dan. You growled at him last time we came across him – you weren’t yourself then, of course.”

Stan shot him a weird look. “Who?”

“Dan. The lumberjack.” Stan continued to look confused. “Matilda’s boyfriend?”

All at once the werewolf’s eyes widened. “The shovel guy.”

“Er – shovel?”

“He hit me with a shovel.”

“Oh.” Ford had almost forgotten the circumstances of their meeting, with himself rescuing Stan from being beaten to death. Ah – with what he knew now, the situation seemed a lot more dire. He strongly resisted the urge to grab up a shovel and see how Boyish Dan like being smacked into the ground.

Obviously Dan didn’t know it was a person he had assaulted, not a wolf, but still. It would make Ford feel better.

When no words came to him, Ford said the first thing on his mind. “Didn’t you try to eat his mother’s dog?”

“Dog? Fuckin’ thing was more of a bug than a dog. I was starving anyway, gimme a break!”

“I’m not judging. Anyway, I’ve seen you try to eat so many things-”

“Can it, Poindexter.”

Ford began to count on his fingers. “Squirrels, gnomes, the mayor’s hairpiece, our father, my kitchen cupboard, a whole watermelon for some reason-”

“I was outta my mind for half of those!”

“My phone, the multibear somehow, several lemons – why you kept coming back to them after knowing you hated them remains a mystery to me–”

They arrived back at the house before Ford could continue his list.

“We should get this thing planted before it dies or somethin’.” Stan shuffled the plant around in his arms to hold it more comfortably, ignoring its hiss of displeasure. “Where do you want it?”

“The porch should be fine. I don’t know how much energy it gets from its prey as opposed to the sun – it might need sunlight to live.”

“Right. You got a pot around? I can get Chompy here planted while you find something to stop it biting anyone who gets close.”

“’Chompy’? You named the plant?”

“You were too slow.”

Well, Ford couldn’t argue with that logic. He’d just have to be faster with the next creature they came across. They had a lifetime, after all, to squabble about names – among other things.

(For example, whether Ford was terrible for pretending to toss Stan the car keys but hiding them behind his back instead. It took Stan an embarrassingly long time to realize and once he did, Ford could barely see the withering glare he received through his snickering.)

(That evening, in revenge, Stan fell asleep on the couch lying across several of Ford’s books. Upon attempts to remove him Stan simply shifted into a wolf and thus became heavier and harder to move.)

(But these are stories for another time.)

#final chapter #my writing #my fic #gravity falls #werewolf stan au #werewolf!stan #dang #this took a while to finish #mostly because it's the last chapter!#i wasn't sure how to finish my baby #anyway the main story is done now #i may write a couple one-shots from this au in the future #who knows?#i hope you enjoy

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1iam · 4 years ago

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ADVANCED MENTAL ALCHEMY “The All Is Mind; The Universe Is Mental.” - The Kybalion

The Universe is the product of an entity of intellect and it is entirely mental. Through scientific research we know that all forms of "matter" are actually energy under law. Also, with the advent of Quantum physics we are just beginning to understand the relationship between consciousness (the observer) and the Universal energy. As stated above, the mind is all, and being all, it has the ability to place its will upon the material Universe (material reality). The Mind is not human but its greatest expression in the mental mechanics of material reality is in the form of Man. A man/woman, is the Mind in flesh. The walking, talking creator of material reality. The Universe that we live in is a mental energy arrangement that responds to the collective mental activity of us all to produce an experience of material reality for the Mind to exercise and entertain itself. At any point of material observation (person), the Mind can awaken from its dream in character personage and exercise its will upon all of material reality (The Universe). The Universe (material reality) is an energy arrangement that is constantly changing and adjusting based upon the mental commands it receives from people, who are basically for lack of a better term, "God in the flesh." The energy of this mental matrix does not obey the rules of time, distance, and matter when making adjustments and changes but it does do its best to stay within the present storyline of material reality so as not to cause the matrix to become meaningless. Probably 99.9% of the time, the changes and adjustments made by the energy matrix are complete and unnoticeable to the unawake human family. But, if you'll just look around right now and consider your daily life so far, I'm sure you can imagine that there is an enormous amount of information under law here and hiccups can occur in the process.

During the week of April 11, 2021 to April 17, 2021 I had a doctors appointment that Monday the 12th that required me to take the day off from my trucking job with CMAC Transportation. The doctors appointment didn't take long and I was actually happy about having the day off because that would leave me with a four day work week. Driving a semi is not an easy job and five day work weeks take a toll on you, so I was happy to have a doctors appointment to excuse one of those days. I had that Monday the 12th off but my boss (Rich) at the CMAC account where I work informed me that week that he needed me to work on Saturday, April 17, 2021. I'm all about making the company and our customers as successful as possible. I didn't want to work the Saturday, but they needed me and I was there. It turned my four day work week back into a five day work week with only Sunday the 18th before Monday again and at least another 5 day work week. That stuck with me in my mind! I worked Saturday the 17th of April, carried a load of WestRock cartons to Kelloggs in Battlecreek, MI. I started at 6:00 AM, got my paperwork, logged into the Qualcomm in my tractor, called dispatch for a load number and logged that into the Qualcomm. I did a pretrip inspection on my tractor and logged it into the Qualcomm. You know, the whole nine! The GPS on the Qualcomm was logging my whole trip. When I got to Kelloggs I signed a gate pass and went and got signatures for the load from the receiving department. I drove back to Brownstown MI with the Qualcomm logging my trip the whole way. I did a post trip inspection of my vehicle, certified the day and logged out of the Qualcomm. I turned in signed paperwork at WestRock insuring that the load was received in Battlecreek in good condition. I went home. It wasn't a long day, I was done by 1:00 PM.

I had an appointment at the Secretary Of State office to have my driver's license renewed on April 27, 2021. My license expires on my birthday in July this year. Because of the pandemic I got an early appointment. If I missed my April appointment the next opening was in October! I notified CMAC Transportation of that and of course, they gave me the day off to go and handle my CDL-A situation. I was happy about that because it wouldn't take that long and it turned my five day work week into a four day work week. I went and handled that business on Tuesday, April 27, 2021 and had a great day off from work. Near the end of the work week, my boss at WestRock, Rich, notified me that he really needed me to work Saturday the 1st of May. In my mind, I'm like "All hell naw! That's blowing my four day work week!" Of course, I'm about being of value to the company and the customer. They will never regret hiring me. All I said was "Yes Sir, I'll see you in the morning." But, in my mind, I'm thinking I see how they're going to play me, every time I get a day off during the week they're going to work me on Saturday. Anyway, I worked Saturday the 1st of May as well. But these two Saturdays are in my mind because I worked them and they blew my four day work weeks. When the April 11, 2021 to April 17, 2021 pay period came around, guess what? Saturday, April 17, 2021 wasn't in my pay! Okay, okay, they slipped up, it can happen. I'll just call CMAC Transportation and notify them that they missed paying me for Saturday April the 17th, no problem, right? WRONG! CMAC notifies me that they have no record of me working Saturday, April 17th. Now, not only was my four day work week screwed up, but CMAC is telling me I didn't work on Saturday April the 17th and they're not paying me. At this point, in my mind, I'm like, "Hey! You got me fu*ked up!" I tell CMAC Transportation to go back to April 17, pull up my truck number and the Qualcomm record of the whole day, logged as me, the driver, working! CMAC Transportation tells me that they have no Qualcomm records, nothing that says I worked on Saturday April the 17th. Okay, at this point, I'm thinking, obviously, CMAC is another sleazy trucking company trying to rip me off and I'm done! I don't let companies, people, nobody mistreat me and just move along as though nothing happened. I told my wife, Debbie, that I was going to resign from CMAC Transportation. Debbie talked to me about the trucking profession, trucking companies and how unethical they have been all around. She said, if you're going to be a company driver, you can't run every time they screw you. She was right, but at the same time, I just couldn't eat them screwing me out of my Saturday pay as though nothing happened. As a happy medium between my wife Debbie and myself, I didn't resign CMAC Transportation but I did notify CMAC that I was done working Saturday's until they paid me for working Saturday, April the 17th. Now, wherever that led was up to them, but I keep my word. We started going back and forth about me not working any more Saturdays with text messages and an administration person named Tiffany was attempting to help me understand that they have no record of me working that day and if I did work that day, I must have done so without logging into the Qualcomm. She insinuated I was just driving the truck without taking care of any business and the truck itself never reported unauthorized driving that day, which is totally ridiculous and even insulting to me, being the professional driver that I am. My boss at the CMAC WestRock account, Rich, said he remembered me working that day but he was kind of hazy about it. Rich is very busy everyday and the day in question was almost three weeks back, so he didn't seem absolute about it like I was. Rich said he would try and get me paid for that Saturday, even though there was absolutely no record of me working that Saturday according to CMAC Transportation. Long story short, WestRock and CMAC Transportation valued my service and respected me as a driver so much that they paid me for Saturday April the 17th, 2021 even though they say they have absolutely no record of me ever working that day. I want WestRock and CMAC Transportation to know that I am truly honored by that. I do understand pay procedures and processes and how difficult it is to pay with no record of what you're paying for. The pay was a respect thing and I'm honored by that. A few days ago Google send me an email with my April Timeline recorded. This is a GPS Timeline that tracks the movement of my cellphone everyday, all day. Finally, I would have proof that I went to Battlecreek MI on Saturday April 17, 2021. I opened the email and rushed to that Saturday and boom! There was no record of me going to Battlecreek MI on Saturday April 17,2021. Only then, did I realize that the energy matrix had made a change that was incomplete. The matrix flipped my Saturday in every way except my memory. By leaving the Saturday worked in my memory, it created a conflict that could have cost me my job had WestRock and CMAC Transportation not been so generous. Rarely does the energy matrix miss a detail when making changes and adjustments but it does happen from time to time. CMAC Transportation not having any record of the Saturday should have tipped me off, but this rarely happens and the Google Timeline made me aware of it.

I did list some other examples of energy matrix slip ups in my Teachable course on Mental Manifestation. Thanks for listening. The experience was enjoyable when I think about it. It took me through a range of different emotions and was worth the observation. https://mental-manifestation-school.teachable.com/

#wakethegod #amorc #rosicrucianism #tumblr #cmactransportation westrock

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 4 years ago

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The protest.

Ah. Good. You guys are here.

I take it you’re Porosen then?

Yes. It’s nice to meet you. But Uchui is fine.

Gotta say though...The trek here was a lot longer than I thought it’d be. Even going by car it felt like quite a while.

Given the state of the land, I’m amazed we were able to get here by land vehicle alone.

Most of the time, they fly us here with helicopters...But if we did that, we’d risk Miu noticing us and thinking something was up...

Man...this whole building really did shut down...How was Miu able to pull something like this off...?

Well, she is a genius inventor after all...It’s not completely unreasonable...

Sometimes I underestimate how smart she can be...

Regardless, while the electronic and engine powered shutters are down, there is a manual entrance/exit in the case of an emergency.

Not many people know about it right now. With the situation of the Future Foundation traitor, it’s being kept quiet.

I only know because one of the top researchers gave me some info as safekeeping.

*Uchui leads everyone to a more secluded spot at the base of the tower.

This building really is quite tall. It must have taken at least a decade to build it.

I’ve been wondering Uchui...You said that one of the top researchers was a friend of yours...

And you said that you owed them. Who are they, and what for?

Huh? Oh, it’s nothing special.

She’s one of the top research experts in weaponry and invention. Her name is Mona.

Mona!?

Isn’t that the girl you mentioned to us Kaede? The one that Mii-Yu had become well acquainted with?

Blonde hair, purple outfit, constantly bothered expression?

That’s the one!

I met her too. She seems a little stern, but she also seems quite friendly.

Aren’t those literally antonyms?

And what is your relation to her?

Oh, it’s nothing special. But I’ve known her since middle school.

On top of that, we were accepted into the same Ultimate class in Hope’s Peak. Class 83.

But isn’t she a weapons expert and you’re a theoretical physicist? Aren’t those two different types of research?

Hope’s Peak relegates all scientific and technical research into one firm. It makes it easier for them to keep track of the students that way.

Mona and I sometimes talked during lunch. But she’s been so busy on production here recently that I haven’t had time to talk to her.

I don’t really want to go into details as to why I owe her, but I do. And this is the least I can do to make up for it.

I see...Anyway, let’s put that aside and get moving...

I agree...

*Uchui guides everyone through the secret passage into the tower.

Wow! Th-This place is awesome!

Shh! Kaito! Miu is in control of everything! We can’t let her know we’re here yet!

Ngh! S-Sorry...

Hm...This place doesn’t look much different than it did before.

Really?

I mean, all of the big machines don’t seem to be working...But all the essential ones do.

Like that shop...And that grocery.

It seems that even if she’s working people to death on this reactor, she doesn’t plan on starving them.

Looks like she’s not out to ruin lives. That’s good at least...

Hm? Everyone. Listen.

What’s up?

*Everyone eavesdrops on a passing conversation.

First man: Hey. Did you hear? I hear it’s starting soon.

Second man: Huh? What’s “starting?”

First man: You’re kidding right? Haven’t you seen the flyers? The weaponry faction is holding a big demonstration.

Second man: Really? Against Iruma? That Mona doesn’t know when to quit, huh?

First man: Honestly, I’m glad someone’s got the guts to go up against her. She seems to have gotten too much power in such a short span of time. Anyway, you wanna go watch?

Second man: You bet I do!

*The two inventors rush off.

That’s...kinda strange.

It sounds like there’s a protest going on against Iruma.

We should probably go check it out...

Right.

Let us go.

Man with hat: It’s time Ms Mona.

Alright. We’d better start by thanking everyone for coming.

Mona!

Huh? K-Kaede?

*Mona stops to turn towards the group.

Thank god you’re ok!

Wh-What are you doing here?

Saving you of course!

We’re here to have a few strong words with Miu. She’s a friend of ours, so she’ll surely listen if we get the chance.

Are you sure about that? She seems kind of set in stone about the whole reactor thing.

There doesn’t appear to be much chaos so far...Surely the situation can’t be that bad...

*sigh* It’s worse than it looks...

What do you mean?

The physical damage that she’s left in her wake isn’t bad...But the mental damage of the workers is something else entirely.

The hospital area downstairs is almost completely full of sick workers. They fell ill from being overworked too much.

Miu Iruma hasn’t allowed anyone to take so much as a 3 minute break. The only times she lets them off is to eat and have a shower. Other than that, it’s nothing but work, work, work. 4 people that I know have already collapsed from exhaustion.

No...!

She’s treating you like tools...! That’s unforgivable!

I agree. Which is why I’m holding this protest and have gathered all these people here. We’re going to make that crazy bitch listen to us.

Wait...but this doesn’t make an awful lot of sense to me...

Aren’t you a lead researcher in weaponry? Couldn’t you use some kind of weapon to threaten Miu? You probably have more military power than she does.

Are you some kind of idiot...!?

Who are you callin’ an idiot!?

Kaito, calm down, she calls everyone that...

That’s a bad habit Mona...I’d have figured you’d have dropped it by now...

Hold on a second...that voice...!?

Ch-Chewie!?

Chewie?

Ngh...don’t call me that...! We’re not children anymore.

What are you doing here?

Trying to make it up to you.

*sigh* Still held up about the shark, huh?

Shark?

I’ll explain later. Regardless, Kaito has a point. You could easily overpower Iruma with your weapons you’ve developed.

You’re right. We could. But why should we?

The last thing we need is a war breaking out. Guns and weapons will only escalate the problem, and while we all harbor resentment towards Iruma for putting us in this situation, no one here wants her dead.

People birth people, flowers birth flowers and violence births more violence, that’s all I’m saying. As a weapons engineer, I know that better than anyone.

Fair point...But wow...I didn’t think Miu was that far gone...

To be fair, it’s not as if this was a hat drop transformation. There was a significant build up of stress to push her to the breaking point.

The problem mainly lies in what she’s doing to the workers of the company. If she needed to use the reactor to revitalize her robot friend, then I would personally allow her to use it.

But if all she’s focused on is finishing the damn thing, and she doesn’t pay any mind to the state of people’s lives...those conditions...They’re just unacceptable!

Man with hat: Mona! She’s here!

Alright...time to get busy...

You guys might want to take a step back. We might not have weapons, but there’s no telling what she’s got packing...

Ah, w-wait, Mona!

*Mona turns and gathers everyone in a crowd. All of a sudden, there is some rumbling.

WH-What’s that noise...!?

Wait! I-I just realized something...!

What!?

This whole place! It’s some kinda landing platform!

*Sure enough, the entire platform suddenly opens up, and in a few minutes, a small airship rises from a giant mechanical hole. The blimp has a symbol plastered on the side of it.

What is that!?

Miu puts that symbol on all her inventions. It looks as if she’s claimed that blimp as her own.

Dammit! The hell is wrong with her!?

Attention everyone!

*Mona suddenly starts yelling through a loudspeaker.

For the past few days, Miu Iruma has held us captive and is working us like slaves to get the URF upgraded and rerouted!

But we will not stand for it! We are not your slaves Iruma!

Crowd: WE’RE NOT SLAVES! WE’RE NOT SLAVES!

We demand workers rights! We demand fair treatment! And we demand our domain back!

Crowd: WE’RE NOT SLAVES! WE’RE NOT SLAVES!

We’re not going to let you; A misguided inventor who has no place in an establishment like this; let you trample over even our small community! No more URF! No more overtime!

Crowd: WE’RE NOT SLAVES! WE’RE NOT SLAVES!

Well, she certainly knows how to rally a crowd...

Huh? W-Wait, is that...?

...?

*Everyone looks up towards the blimp, as two people emerge on a small balcony.

...

Miu!

And Mii-Yu!

So she finally showed her face...

Hmph...Sounds like I’m going to have to let some people go...

*The entire area is suddenly invaded with loud alarm sounds, that are even able to overpower the screams of the crowd.

What’s going on?

*All of a sudden, the front of the airship opens up, and a large funnel like object protrudes from it.

Eat this!

Ah! EVERYBODY! MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!

Huh!?

*Sensing the danger, Kaede screams at the top of her lungs. Luckily, it’s loud enough as a giant laser suddenly explodes from the funnel shaped cannon, and several people jump to safety.

Shit! She IS packing heat!

That could have killed people!

Maybe...but look where the blast landed?

Hm?

*Uchui points to where the blast contacted with the ground. It’s close to the crowd, but still a short distance from them.

She missed them on purpose. She’s trying to scare them off, not kill them.

AHAHAHAHA! Now you know what happens to those who defy me!

That doesn’t make her any less of a nutjob though.

Finally decided to show yourself, huh Miu!?

Huh!?

Kaede!

*In the blink of an eye, amidst the chaos, Kaede is now suddenly standing on a perch, yelling up at the airship with Mona’s megaphone.

!!?

Kaede...!

*Miu snatches a megaphone of her own.

You know, it’s a little disappointing to see you residing with this shitty resistance group! I expected better of you Bakamatsu...!

Didn’t you get my note!? I gave it to you because I didn’t want you involved!

I expected better of you too! There’s no way I wouldn’t have gotten involved, even with you telling me not to!

You come from a good place, but this isn’t right! I’m saying this as your friend, you have to stop this!

You want to use your inventions to make the world a better place, don’t you!?

And I WILL! With Keebo by our side, it’ll give me and everyone else the morale boost we need to do better! That’s the effect he’s always had on us!

You can’t just trample over dozens of people just to save one!

You used to care about us! All of us! Now it’s just progress no matter the cost! When did you get so...broken!?

I’M broken! Look at yourself Kaede! If you’re telling me that I’m obsessed with making progress, think about how obsessed YOU are with making sure everyone gets along!

You believe that you can unite the world and make it a better place, basically by forcing everyone to be your, and each other’s friend! Newflash tiny tits! YOU CAN’T!

Ngh...

I’ve had enough of this...

*Miu charges up another laser cannon.

I won’t kill you. But you might want to move out of the way before I blow out the ground from underneath you...!

Miu, you can’t do this!

WANNA BET BITCH!?

*No sooner does she say this, she turns the airship, and fires the blast straight in Kaede’s direction.

AAAH!

KAEDEEE!

MOVE! RUN!

Oh SHIT!

*Kirumi makes a run to try and save her, but before she can reach!

*BZZZZZZZZZTTTT!!!*

...!

Huh...?

Hah...?

...

Mii-Yu...!

*A large cloud of dust forms as the laser approaches Kaede, but when it clears, Mii-Yu is standing in front of Kaede, shielding her from the blast with a generated forcefield, hovering in front of her with her rocket pack.

M-Mii-Yu! What are you doing!?

Miu...I’m sorry...but I can’t let you do this.

These people are as human as you are...But you’re going off what they refer to as “the deep end”

I want to save you...and to do that...I will resist you...!

...Do you really think you can stop me...?

Well! Let me tell you something, friend!

Anyone and anyTHING that plans on getting in my way...!

*Miu charges another beam.

GETS ATOMIZED!

!!!??

Kaede! We have to move!

W-Wait! Mii-Yu!

*Kirumi grabs Kaede and rushes away. As this happens, Mii-Yu takes her arm cannon and aims it towards Miu’s ship. She counters the energy blast with one of her own. The two beams collide, and a large sonic boom is created from it!

ACHH!!!

AAACHA!!

*The beam launches Mii-Yu back, sending her crashing into the wall. Similarly, Miu is launched and starts rolling on the deck of her airship. On top of that, the sonic boom dealt significant damage to the ship.

D-Dammit...! You’ll regret this...!

*Miu rushes back inside the airship and clumsily pilots it away from the area. The entire landing platform is now a wreck.

Ngh...

MII-YU!

Kaede wait!

*Kaede shakes herself free of Kirumi’s grip and runs towards Mii-Yu, crumpled on the floor.

Ngh...Ka-Ka-Ka-Kaede-de-de?

Mii-Yu! Come on, can you hear me!?

Oh god...

Oh no...! Mii-Yu!

*Mona comes running towards the group, kneeling down to examine Mii-Yu. Many of her parts are either broken or knocked off from the beam collision.

I-I-I will b-be alright-right-right. My functions are-are-are just acting up-up-up-up...

She needs medical attention...or engineering attention. Or whatever it is in robot terms!

We’ll take her back to my lab. Does anyone here have any experience with fixing machines?

I do! I know the ins and outs of computers and vehicles!

Alright, good. Maid! Find a stretcher! Goatee! Help me carry her!

I’m on it!

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa new world order #drnwo #oc #kaede akamatsu #mona nwo #uchui porosen #kirumi tojo #kaito momota #miiyu #m11-yu #miu iruma #the tower arc

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annes-andromeda · 4 years ago

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Ragnarök: Asgard’s Twilight

Chapter 4: Out With The Old

N/: New chapter! This includes some changes to Thor and Loki finding Odin, while also adding in Jane, Darcy, a bit of Valkyrie foreshadowing, and of course family drama.

The streets of London were much different from Manhattan. Sure, they were buzzing with busy civilians, but it seemed much more relaxed compared to the pushy and sometimes rude people of New York. Thor looked around as everyone gave him equally fascinated stares.

Thor had remembered the address of Jane’s home. Due to her scientific discoveries and acknowledgment as an astrophysicist, she had been able to move out of her parents house and afford her own abode. He was happy for her, but deep in the back of his mind, he still felt guilt over leaving her without notice for so long. Thankfully though, just because they weren’t romantically involved didn’t mean they had to stop being friends.

Once coming up a street, then about three more, the brothers walked past houses and playing children, till eventually they found the building that had the number “84”. Walking towards the door, Thor had one hand in his pocket, the other reaching to the doorbell. He took a deep breath before pressing on the button, then waited beside Loki for a reply.

On instinct, he assumed that Jane would be the one opening the door. But instead, another familiar face greeted him.

“Well, if it isn’t Captain sparkly face and Emperor witch pants” Darcy said, her tone humorous

Thor chuckled as he wrapped his large arms around her to give her a hug “Nice to see you too, Darcy”

When they parted, Thor looked over to Loki, who had an eyebrow raised and let out an exasperated breath. The two then heard a voice call out to Darcy, “Hey, Darcy! Is tha-“ The person stopped mid sentence the minute she locked eyes with the blonde haired giant.

Jane’s mouth hung open as she tried to find the words to say. Her hair was tied behind her, unkept and messy. “Thor...” was the only thing she could muster. She walked over to him and hugged him, which he gladly returned. Once they parted, she looked over to Loki and said “Weren’t you-“

“It’s a long story” Loki interrupted “But one that would have to wait, I’m afraid”

“He’s right, Jane” Thor said “You see, things have changed within the Nine Realms, and we were informed that our father was with you”

Jane frowned before nodding “Right this way”

Thor walked through the doorway with Loki behind him. The house was nicely kept, aside from the materials possibly used for experiments, and the bombardments of paperwork. The living room was next to the kitchen, which Darcy went into to get some food “You guys want anything?”

Thor shook his head “No, thank you” When his gaze returned to Jane, she motioned to the couch, where a heavy figure lay motionless. He immediately realized who it was, bending down and leaning in closer “Father...” he whispered. Odin’s face was embedded with sweat, a white cloth wrapping over his right eye. A blanket lay over his resting form.

He turned to Jane “What happened to him?” He asked

“I don’t know” the woman answered “He’s been very delirious lately; sweating profusely, nonsensical words, just overall acting... strange. I tried giving him some medicine to calm him down, but I didn’t know which one would actually do anything, so I just resorted to Tylenol and some Xanax. Seems to have done the trick. But he’s been sleeping in for well over three weeks now”

“Perhaps he went into Odinsleep” Loki commented, leaning over the couch “It’s possible that he could have broken free of my spell and used his own power far too greatly. And there’s never any discernible time as to when he’s in that state”

“No” Thor said “No, this is something different. If father truly was in Odinsleep, then the Odin-force would create a barrier around him as a means to protect him, and even then he’d be vulnerable, but not weak”

His hand ran through his father’s hair, moving the locks away from his sweat drenched forehead. Odin was breathing heavily, as if the air was fighting to escape his lungs. There was struggle within his body, one that told of true pain. And Thor felt helpless to do anything.

Jane then came forward and adjusted the blanket “Let’s leave him alone for now. Maybe he’ll sense that you’re here and wake up”

Struggling to part from his father’s side, Thor eventually got up, letting his father rest a while longer. Perhaps if he just waited a while longer, then perhaps his father would awaken and tell him what he needs to know.

“I see you’ve been researching more of our culture” Thor heard Loki say. It had been almost half an hour since they had arrived, and there still were no signs of stirring with Odin. Thor sat at the dinner table, drinking a latte that Darcy had happily prepared for him. Jane was standing next to Loki, rummaging through all the research papers she had conducted.

“Yeah” Jane responded “Ever since the whole ordeal with the Aether, I started looking up some more info on Norse Mythology, and I guess I just... went from there” She grabbed one of the papers, studying it intently “It’s always been fascinating to me how your appearances on Earth inspired such stories and legends. It even helped created an entire culture”

Loki shrugged “Well, it’s not as if it didn’t happen before. You mortals have always had a sense of ignorance and blind worship within you. Even the more... intellectual ones”

The sound of Jane’s scoff echoed through the kitchen “Really? And who was the one who planted Gravimetric strikes alongside Doctor Selvig to stop the Convergence when Malekith was attacking?”

“And who was the one who saved you from getting sucked into a wormhole?” Loki said snidely “Who were the ones who aided you in getting the Aether out of your body?”

“For your information, I managed to survive that encounter longer that most people could even imagine” Jane added “Shouldn’t that say something about me?”

Loki chuckled “I meant no offense, Foster. Although, you can’t deny that my jests weren’t entirely out of mockery. Just simply take it in stride, is all”

Thor could only watch the ordeal from his seat, with Darcy at his side sporting a shit-eating grin on her face “This is honestly the most entertainment I’ve gotten in the past month” She said looking over to Thor “So how’s your new boyfriend, space retriever?”

That made both Jane and Loki stop talking, the two of them immediately looking to Thor. The man felt cornered as all eyes were on him. Granted, it wasn’t the topic that made him uncomfortable. Oh god no, Thor could talk about Steve all day. Hell, when he returned to Asgard, he spoke of the Captain so often that even Fandral began taking a liking to him. This time, however, Thor felt it would be rather insensitive to talk about his new flame in front of his old flame.

“Heard he’s a real heart throb” Darcy continued “Yeah, golden hair, body like Adonis, and an ass chuck full of meat. Bet you have fun with him a lot, don’t ya? ”

Thor’s face grew red at the image of his love’s splendid behind forming within his mind. An absolutely horrible time, considering that Jane was staring at him and Loki was waiting for whatever dumb response his brother could concoct.

“Yes” He finally answered “Steve and I enjoy each other’s company very much. However, he hasn’t grown comfortable enough to warrant any... physical intimacy, let alone a kiss”

“You haven’t even kissed yet?” Loki said, the comment shocking Thor. Strange coming from someone who never ever cared for his past flings before

Thor only rolled his eyes “As I was saying... Steve prefers it that we take our time in this courtship. But the last time I saw him was but a few months ago”

Jane walked over to Thor, placing a hand atop his giant bicep “Thor,” she began “You don’t have to feel uncomfortable talking about the Captain when you’re around me. Yeah sure, we’re not together anymore, but we agreed to still be friends, remember?”

Yeah, he did. Breaking up with Jane was amongst one of the hardest decisions he’s had to make. That and giving up the throne. When the Bifrost was destroyed, he never expected to see Jane again. Figured she’d be better off without him. Meeting Steve was never his intention, but he was glad he did.

And even when his feelings for Jane diminished, and the ones for Steve grew, Thor reassured Jane that he would continue to be her friend. And it held true to this day. Just because they weren’t together anymore didn’t mean Thor stopped adoring her.

“Anyways” Jane’s voice snapped Thor out of his trance “Now that we got that out of the way, yeah... I’ve been researching more on your culture ever since the encounter with Malekith”

Darcy got up from her seat, grabbing her mug alongside Thor’s cup to wash in the sink “She’s been especially interested in those guys” She motioned to a tapestry on the wall, which depicted armored women riding atop winged horses. There were spears in their hands, their faces fair and beautiful. Strong and fierce, graceful and true.

“Ah yes, the Valkyrie” Thor said rising from his seat to take a closer look at the tapestry “I had wanted to join them when I was young, but my mother told me they were only women”

“I remember that” Loki added “We used to play a game of sorts where you’d parade the halls as a mighty Valkyrie atop your steed, and I’d chase you around until we resulted in the gardens”

“At least you could’ve actually been one of them”

“True. But I believe father wouldn’t have allowed that. Probably would have seen right through my facade”

Thor chuckled. He turned to Jane, who’s hands pushed through papers and made it to a little journal “Out of all the things that I’ve researched, they were the ones who peaked my interest. A group of elite warriors who brought the fallen in battle to Valhalla”

She held a printed painting of a young woman wearing a white dress and, like the other Valkyrie, held a spear in her hand. The maiden sat beside a lake, her feet dipped in the water, and her face solemn.

“Brunnhilde” Thor said, looking at the picture “The Fallen Angel. That’s what she was named. She led the Valkyrior into Niffleheim where they all went extinct. A shame that this resulted in Asgard returning to their more... ‘traditional’ ideals”

“It was also believed that Brunnhilde was the most beautiful warrior on Asgard” Loki claimed “A vision so fair that she could’ve been crafted for Valhalla itself”

“Yeah” Jane said “She’s pretty famous down here too. I tried looking up the cause of her and the Valkyrie’s death, but there wasn’t anything aside from them riding to Niffleheim and never being seen again. Fading into obscurity”

“In case you couldn’t tell, Jane’s got a bit of an obsession with these guys” Darcy remarked “She’s even resorted to writing old runes in her journal, placing stats on these people as if they were Mortal Combat characters, and drawing them for days on end. I haven’t been able to get a days work done without her yapping on about the history of Scandinavian culture”

“Oh shut up, you like my rambles” Jane said jokingly

“They didn’t disappear into thin air” Thor interrupted “They were killed; by one my people wouldn’t dare speak of. The goddess of death, Hela. Stories were told of her to frighten children: how she slaughtered all the Valkyrie and destroyed their legacy-”

A grumble interrupted his explanation, and he immediately turned to the source of the noise. The blanket covered Odin began to stir, his grumbling getting louder. Thor hurried over to see what was all the fuss about, Loki and Jane at his tail while Darcy stayed from a distance. He noticed that his father’s breath had grown rapid, his eyes rolling behind his head.

“Father?” Thor said, as he attempted to wake the All-Father by shaking him. Yet no response came. Again he tried, “Father!” But nothing.

“Is he having a seizure?” Jane asked worryingly

“She’s...coming” Odin could be heard saying “She’s coming! She’s coming!”

And then, his eyes fully opened, scaring the three people looking at him. They waited for him to say something, anything. But he ignored them, getting up on his own. He snatched the blanket away from his body, stretching his limbs

Thor put his hand on his father’s back “Father?” He tried “Father, what is it?”

Odin turned to look at his son, his hand coming to his face “You...you... are Thor... my son”

“Yes” Thor smiled “Yes Father, it’s me. I’m here, and so is Loki”

“Yes...my-my...my other son” Odin slurred. He stumbled on his feet, attempting to shift his gaze towards Loki “The storms within you burn greatly. I suppose the fault is mine...for being so callous. I have failed both of you... my sons... and now, I shall face the consequences”

The last word was drawn out, gurgled and transformed into more grumbling “My time has come. The day of reckoning is upon us”

“Father what are you talking about?” Thor asked, voice painted with worry

“It is upon us: Ragnarök. The end of all of Asgard. The Twilight of the Gods” Odin started bluntly

Thor and Loki looked at each other. No, it couldn’t be true. “But father” Loki stepped in “We’re not gods. You said so yourself, remember?”

Odin chuckled darkly to himself, as if his sons were nothing but voiced in his head “Oh my boys, if you knew what you truly were capable of- what I was capable of, as my father before me- you wouldn’t hesitate to call yourselves Gods” He walked over to the kitchen, shoeing away at Darcy so as to get a drink.

Thor promptly stopped him, forcefully grabbing his father’s wrist before he took a chug of alcohol “No, no! You’re going to explain yourself and tell us what’s happening”

“There’s no time!” Odin exclaimed “She is coming, the inevitable is about to transpire! I tried to hide her away, to protect Asgard from her, but her power is too great to control. Acting the fool, I was! Callous and stupid! Irresponsible!”

The words came out rushed and anxious. In an attempt to calm Odin down, Thor cupped his father’s face “Just... please explain. Slowly”

A sigh escaped Odin’s lips “It is Hela, the goddess of death. I had imprisoned her when she proved to be too extreme. But now the time has come. The time for Asgard to fall. And for my secrets to be unveiled. I have lied to you, my boy” His gaze was focused directly to Thor “You... You... are not my firstborn child”

Thor felt the wind get knocked out of him “W-What...?”

“Before I married your mother, Frigga, I had taken another partner. Her name was Jord: the goddess of the Earth. With her, I wished to conceive a child strong enough to survive on both Midgard and Asgard. When that baby was born, I couldn’t be prouder. But in my heart, I could see that there was danger in their strength. So much so, that I couldn’t even bring myself to claim them as my own”

The look of shock in Thor’s face began to mold into disgust, eyebrows furrowing and mouth agape. This had to be a nightmare. Some terrible dream he was having. The way his mouth felt dry, his skin getting colder. It was too surreal.

“When they came of age, I brought them into my forces. We fought side by side together. But the child grew to detest me, even going as far as to plot and scheme with my enemies. I sent them into exile, feeling it was the best choice for the Nine Realms. And when it was time for me to seek out another Queen, I met Frigga. Which resulted, in your birth”

Thor shook his head continuously “No...no. Don’t say it, don’t you dare say it”

Odin gave a look of shame. The feeling in the room was uncomfortable, with Jane and Darcy completely silent, unable to comprehend what was happening. Loki was in as much shock as anyone, but he felt the need to say something. The news of Hela returning was already enough for him to be in a stressful mode.

“The goddess of death” Odin began “Hela. She is not simply myth. She is very real. She... is your sister”

He looked over to Loki, his face hardening and stern.

“And your mother”

#marvel #my writing #fanon marvel #ragnarok rewrite #not ragnarok friendly #thor odinson #loki friggason #jane foster #darcy lewis #odin borson #anti ragnarok #just in case #gagnarok

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tsipasce · 4 years ago

Text

Same Difference, ch.06

A/N: stuffed fluff into this one like I had a shopping spree at Build-A-Bear. Well, maybe not that bad, but Overhaul was definitely a bit softer than usual if not a bit ooc. Just glad these two idiots are finally progressing... Let me know what y'all think~

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

AO3 | Fanfic

They agreed on a schedule of meeting on Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays for the next 6-12 months, assuming there were not technical hick-ups to prolong the process. As annoyed and nervous as she was about having to work with him, she also couldn’t deny the sheer excitement. She’d missed the feeling of diving headlong into research, sequestering herself in a lab full of possibilities, pouring over data. She considered having to put up with her lab partner a just payment for this gift from the universe. While daydreaming about her scientific adventure, she toyed with the keychain on her phone, “One favor”… she contemplated.

A knock came at her door, bringing her back to reality. “Um yes, come in.”

“You alright in here? I was knocking for a couple minutes there.” Dr. Tanaka said from the now open doorway, concern in his features.

“Yeah, I’m great, just zoned out for a little bit. What can I do for you?”

“I think it’s more of what I can do for you…” he said sighing, closing the door behind him. “How was your coffee run last Friday?”

She cautioned a glance at him, sliding her burner phone to the side, folding her hands on her desk. “It was fine, thanks for the recommendation.”

“Anything interesting happen?”

“Nope.”

“I see.” They stared at each other a beat, before he realized he’d have to confront this head on. “You know, something strange happened at a construction site nearby after you left. No one knows what happened, but suddenly there were a bunch of nuts where there used to be a giant metal beam. Know anything about that?”

“…”

“Nanami.”

“………”

“What happened.”

“Ok, ok so I did something really dumb—surprise, surprise! Everyone gets to mess up once in a blue moon, don’t they?”

“Knew it. “He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “And sure, they do, but they don’t usually happen to mess up on yakuza turf.” Tanaka rebutted. He was one of the only people who knew the extent of her quirk. For a while, they worked together with him thinking all her quirk could do was clear clots. That is until she’d reassembled a patient whose legs had been shattered beyond repair after being run over by a car. There was no way she could lie about it after he’d witnessed it firsthand, but after a long talk, he understood why it was important to keep her secret.

“How was I supposed to know? I was just minding my business and I saw a guy about to get crushed. I couldn’t just ignore it. “

He sighed knowing he would have wanted her to do the same for him if he was in a bind. “Just... be more mindful, ok? No one knows that there was anyone there according to my friends at the police department, and for some reason they also haven’t heard any stirring from the yakuza in that area. I don’t know what or if you’ve gotten yourself into anything, but just be careful.”

Nanami chewed the inside of her mouth, and nodded her head, knowing he’d probably faint if he knew the extent of what transpired afterwards. “Of course,” she showed a small smile, “I appreciate you looking out for me. I’ll try my best not to let it be in vain. We good?”

He looked at her a beat longer before responding, knowing there was more to the story, but also wanting to respect his friend, “We’re good.” He replied, smiling reluctantly as he turned to leave, softly closing the door behind him.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her daydream now over.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It felt like she blinked, and it was Wednesday evening. She parked in the same spot as the first time and as she got out, her burner phone vibrated.

“Hello?”

“That spot is too obvious. Park here.” He said curtly, texting her an alternate location.

She looked around but didn’t see any cameras, How does he know where I am?

“Well, thanks for the heads up. I wasn’t aware, being new to doing shady stuff and all.”

“Just hurry.” He breathed, already sounding annoyed, and the line clicking immediately after.

Rude. She rolled her eyes and parked at the location he’d sent. After walking a few minutes, she arrived at the entrance, Kurono escorting her in. They made their way to the underground labyrinth and headed in the direction of the lab. Before opening the door, Kurono broke the silence, “Good luck.” And with that he was gone.

Walking over, she could see Overhaul’s figure at the workbenches by the whiteboard, the clicking of her boots echoing through the room until she was standing a safe distance from him.

“Good evening, Dr. Watanabe.” He greeted respectfully as though he hadn’t just hung up in her face minutes ago.

“Good evening. You’re so much more polite in person than on the phone.” Was the comment petty and unnecessary? Sure. Did she regret saying it? Absolutely not.

“Did you come to work with me or bicker?”

“I can do both,” she responded innocently. His eye twitched in irritation, just as he was about to respond, she finished,” but right now I’d like to work with you. Shall we?”

He sighed, “Let’s. First, we need to begin taking blood samples.” He motioned to a cart that had already been prepared with sterile syringes and tubes.

“Agreed. I’ll take yours first.”

He sat down, taking off his jacket and neatly rolling up his sleeve. She grabbed some fresh gloves and pulled up a chair and the cart, sitting next to him. Not wanting to trigger his mysophobia, she reconfirmed it was ok to touch him, “May I?” He cautioned her a glance before offering his forearm, before quickly looking away. “Just get it over with.”

Wait, is he scared of needles?

Refocusing she gently took his arm and fastened the tourniquet from the cart securely around the base of his bicep. As she was sterilizing the area, she noticed it was hard to keep her hand steady and looked down to see his knee bouncing nervously. He really is afraid of needles… Nanami thought incredulously. It was interesting to see someone so fearless get worked up over something so small, but she guessed there was probably a good reason for it. Either way, it would be impossible to get a sample if he didn’t sit still. He might kill her for asking this, but it was the only way.

“Hey,” she began quietly, Overhaul still fixing his eyes on a wall that was suddenly very interesting, “could you do me a favor?”

“Already acting like you’ve won before the experiment even begins. Aren’t you presumptuous?” He taunted her coolly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“No, not that favor--just a small one.” She cleared her throat before continuing,” Could you hum for me?”

“Do what?” Now his head was turned, and he was looking directly at her.

“It doesn’t have to be a song, just a note.” She quickly clarified.

“Do I look like a child to you?”

“Absolutely not. You’re much less cute.” She shot back, but her face held a small smile.

“That’s definitely not a widely-held belief. And the answer is no.” He replied with a specific brand of arrogance.

“Please?” she pleaded, reflexively clutching his arm closer to her chest, the closeness startling him. “I can’t get a clean insertion if you’re fidgeting like that. Just try it for 5 seconds— it’ll be like meditation.” She reasoned.

Realizing she wasn’t going to give up, he relented. Giving her an exasperated look, he turned away, focused on the wall and hummed. It came as a hesitant, low rumbling and lasted exactly 5 seconds, though Nanami found herself wishing it had lasted just a little bit longer. Afterwards, he rolled his eyes, annoyed she was taking so long.

“Could you hurry up and get this over wit—”

He stopped, watching her place a small, pink band aid with little strawberries on it over the bend of his arm.

“All done.” She said confidently.

“What the hell is this?”

“Evidence of my expertise. Also, you didn’t have any regular band aids so I had to use my own. You’re welcome.” She smiled as he returned a glare.

Rolling down his sleeve in a huff, he impatiently demanded her arm, “Give me your arm.”

Realizing she was skating on thin ice, she decided to spare him a retort and cooperated. He was firm, but not rough and quickly extracted her blood sample. It was clean and clinical. His eyes trained on her arm, he put out his hand in front of her expectantly. What is he.. oh! Not wanting to waste the golden opportunity of seeing him have to do this, she promptly handed him another band aid from her bag. Placing it firmly on the wound, the deed was done, and she did her best to stifle a smile at his mild embarrassment.

Clearing his throat, he rose from his chair and went to the whiteboard. They refocused and decided on the specific day-to-day schedule as well as how they would log and test the samples most efficiently. They needed control samples to test against and, as though it was normal to have a fridge full of mysterious blood, Overhaul nonchalantly offered his stash. Knowing better than to even ask where the samples came from, they began, quickly forming a routine.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A month of work passed by and the routine became more natural to Nanami. What was first a nerve-wracking trip to a yakuza hideout simply became a less-conventional commute to her side-project. What began as leers from the other yakuza, turned from indifference to casual hellos and then small talk. But most surprisingly, what began as a contentious partnership had evolved into pleasant tolerance.

For all his faults, Overhaul was an ideal lab partner. He was meticulous, tidy, and prompt. Even his usually grumpy disposition was dulled while they worked as she could tell he truly enjoyed burying himself deep into lab work. Comparatively, her day job was taxing and finding colleagues who hadn’t been jaded by the day-to-day seemed impossible. Coming to this lab every week was a breath of fresh air.

“Could you hand me a pipet?” He asked, stirring her from her thoughts.

“Oh yes, of course. Here.” She promptly handed it to him, resuming her work, but she could still feel his gaze.

“You seem distracted today.” He noted, turning back to continue his work.

She was a taken aback by the observation. They had made small talk before, but largely worked in comfortable silence. “Hm. I suppose I am.” She could feel him staring at her again and she looked up to see him raising a brow as though he was waiting for her to elaborate. “Well, I was just thinking it hasn’t been as awful as I expected… working with you here.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, it definitely wouldn’t be my first choice, but coming here… it’s been nice. I’ve stifled my quirk for such a long time, it’s just odd being able to openly discuss it, much less study it.”

He stared at her a beat before asking, “What caused it?”

“What?”

“What caused you to repress it?” he clarified, continuing to work. After a bit of silence, he looked over to see her open her mouth to answer then close it when the words seemed like they wouldn’t come out. Whatever the answer was, she was struggling with it in earnest. “You don’t have to answer that.”

She was shocked and appreciative of the consideration he was seemingly giving her, but didn’t want to waste the opportunity. She’d never talked about it with anyone—she couldn’t. But if anyone would understand, it would be him and she wasn’t going to pass up the chance.

“I killed someone.” She whispered gravely, staring straight down. From the corner of her eye she could see him turn to stare for a beat before resuming his task. Biting her lip, she added,” it was only temporary, but still, I killed someone.” Already feeling a portion of the weight coming off her chest at the simple admission, she continued,” I was twelve and my quirk had already manifested years before, but we didn’t know the extent of it. I had just assumed I could manipulate and reform little things, and only on non-organic matter. I mean I’d never tried it because who in the world would think to disassemble a living creature like that?” At this he gave her a look, raising his brows, “Well, at least I didn’t think to do something like that.” She corrected before continuing, the both of them working while she talked. “A boy moved next door to us and he had a quirk that manifested physically causing him to have these beautiful scales, like a dragon straight out of a fairytale. It was a bright, summer day and we were playing together in the park and I remember the scales shining and reflecting in the sunlight. I was hypnotized. I found myself wondering ‘What could they possibly be made of?’ The next thing I knew I was reaching out and the second my fingertip made contact I—I …” she was now shaking at the memory of it, gripping the pipet so tightly it might break. Suddenly, she felt a gloved hand gently place itself on top of hers while another coaxed her fist to open, releasing the now-dented tool. Clearing her throat she tried steadying her breath and met his gaze. It was placid and if she didn’t know any better, soft. He slowly removed his hand from hers, putting the pipet to the side to fix later.

“Continue.” He instructed as he replaced his gloves, but she could hear a sliver of encouragement in his tone.

“… I disassembled him. There was blood everywhere and I panicked. All I could think about was how badly I needed to put him back together and then... it happened. He was back in front of me, fully formed as though nothing had happened… But something had happened, and nothing would be able to change that. He ran home screaming that I was a freak. A monster. I never saw him again and my parents decided it was best to limit me and rebrand my quirk as simple ‘object manipulation’~. The rest is…history.” I said it. She thought sighing a breath of relief. Even if he thought less of her for it, she knew she would be alright, at least having been able to speak about it once. She’d accept the consequences and ridicule, whatever they were.

“You made a mistake. It’s over now.” He said matter-of-factly as he continued working like she hadn’t just shared one of her darkest secrets.

Staring at him in shock, she realized this was his way of comforting her. Was it sociopathic and a little too dismissive of adolescent homicide? Sure. But she couldn’t deny how nice it was to not be judged for the first time. Here in this lab with him, it was just a small piece of her past, a piece of data for their research. Here, she was more than just that incident and for that, she would forever be grateful.

She felt tears well up but didn’t let them fall. Instead she picked up the pipet and some tools to fix it, before simply replying “Thank you.”

He nodded and they continued to work, the silence a little more comfortable than before.

#same difference #overhaul #overhaul x oc #overhaul fanfiction #mha oc #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #bnha #bnha oc #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai

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calumcest · 5 years ago

Text

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - chapter four

[ao3]

ok remember when i said this isnt going to be a long fic and now here we are at like 26k. never listen to me when i say anything is the moral of the story here clearly ! also i promise you i have an actual plot in mind we’re getting there i’m just very slow-burny with this but please dont think every chapter is going to be more of the same and get bored i promise you it is actually going somewhere in the next chapter

also tw: mentions of suicidal thoughts

Luke’s week is filled with research.

He wakes up with bated breath, checking the tattoo in his bathroom mirror just to see whether it’s grown any more but still unable to breathe easy when he finds it hasn’t. The black ink bleeding across his pale skin makes his heart twist every time he sees it - it’s a beautiful reminder of the most terrible time of his life. Luke’s pretty sure he didn’t really understand the meaning of the word bittersweet until the tattoo appeared on his shoulderblade.

Every spare moment of his day is spent reading scientific reports with words that he has to Google and make his head hurt. He scrolls through pages and pages of studies looking for any explanation of tattoo growth that isn’t it’s going to grow indefinitely unless you sort something out with Ashton, which seems to be what the London study was concluding. He looks into people who don’t have tattoos, into people whose tattoos are unfinished, into people whose soulmates have died, into people whose soulmates are violent criminals (which makes Luke feel a little melodramatic, for the first time, because there are people who actually want to be with their soulmate but find out their soulmate’s a serial killer, while Luke’s all torn up about his just because he broke Luke’s heart). He reads journal after journal detailing research into how the tattoos form, how they grow, what happens on people’s eighteenth birthdays, but nothing mentions the tattoos growing after that point. Everything seems to start and stop on people’s eighteenth birthdays.

Calum and Michael help, because of course they do. Lunchtimes and evenings are spent huddled around phones and computers, occasional mumbles of “This one says...oh, wait, no, never mind,” punctuating the silence. Luke’s not sure whether the lack of information on tattoo growth should make him feel better or worse, give him hope or discourage him, but it kind of manages to do both.

The following Tuesday, Michael decides to suggest something they’ve all been thinking, but none of them have wanted to say, because uncertainty might be better than its potential consequences.

“You should email the researchers,” he says. He doesn’t need to say which ones, even though they’ve looked into endless researchers over the past week. Luke sighs, and lets his eyes flutter shut. He knows. They all know.

“I know,” he says. “I should.” He can hear the trepidation in his own voice.

“We can write it together,” Calum says, rubbing at his eyes, because he’s been staring at screens on Luke’s behalf since the minute he woke up.

“What do I even say?” Luke says, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “‘Hi, my soulmate is my archnemesis and my tattoo grew, tell me how to stop it?’”

“Archnemesis?” Michael says, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, who else would my archnemesis be?”

“Whoever originally named Clifford?” Calum offers.

“Hey,” Michael says, pointing at Calum accusingly. “That might be your surname one day.” Calum scoffs.

“Calum Clifford? Are you insane?”

“What, like Michael Hood is any better?”

“Not my fault you have a shitty name,” Calum says, with a shrug. Michael makes a noise of outrage, like he’s gearing himself up for a point-evidence-explain destruction of Calum’s point, and Luke busies himself with opening up his email. The idea of Calum and Michael getting married is more than enough to bring that bitter taste back into his mouth, to make him have to forcibly quash down envy and sadness and anger. Calum seems to sense it, because he shoots Michael a look and turns back to Luke.

“Have you got their email?” he asks. Luke clicks back onto the report that he hasn’t shut for over a week, scrolls to the bottom and nods.

“What do I say?” he asks. His stomach is churning, already nervous for the response to the email of which he hasn’t even typed a single word yet. He might not even get a response, he tells himself. They’re busy people. They might not have time to read their emails. Or maybe ‘[email protected]’ is embarrassing enough to get sent straight to junk mail.

“Describe the situation,” Michael says, scratching Clifford behind his ears. Clifford almost purrs, leaning into Michael’s touch. “Say you dated, and it didn’t work out, and you both know you’re soulmates but given that you’ve tried it and it didn’t work you’re not sure why your tattoo has grown.” Luke nods, typing as Michael speaks.

“It might help if you gave the reason,” Calum says, a little tentative. Luke’s fingers hesitate over the keyboard. “I mean, like, if you specifically say Ashton fell out of love. That’s got to mean something, right, given that they’re soulmate tattoos?” Luke hesitates another moment, considering - he’s not really a big fan of sharing all this personal information, but Calum’s right, he might get a more accurate answer the more he shares - before nodding and typing.

From: <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]>, <[email protected]> Subject: Soulmate Tattoo Growth

Dear Mr Johnson and Ms Newbury,

I recently stumbled across your soulmate tattoo growth study and was hoping you could provide some insight into my own situation. My soulmate and I dated prior to the tattoos appearing, which ended due to him falling out of love with me. Both of us are aware that we are soulmates, and we have had a conversation about what this means for us and ultimately decided to remain apart. However, since this conversation, and having had a chance meeting, both of our tattoos have grown. Given that we have already dated and it did not work out, I am looking for an explanation and, if possible, a method for preventing it growing any further.

Yours sincerely,

Luke Hemmings

He reads it out to Michael and Calum, who both nod thoughtfully.

“Sounds good,” Calum says. Michael nods his agreement. Luke presses send before he can reconsider, and then slams his laptop shut and stands up, stretching. Clifford jumps off Michael’s lap and runs over to Luke, wagging his tail.

“Thanks for helping me,” Luke says, bending down to pat Clifford’s head and trying his best to push the email out of his head. There’s nothing he can do about it now, he tells himself, willing the knot of anxiety in his stomach to loosen.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t do it for free,” Michael reassures him.

“We’ll be calling in this favour at some point,” Calum adds.

“As long as it’s not for doing the Wellson report for Chris,” Luke says, cracking his back and relishing the way it makes Michael wince. Calum winces too, but Luke thinks that’s probably more to do with the Wellson report than his back. “Fuck, I can’t be arsed to cook. Pizza?”

“Why even bother phrasing that as a question with him in here?” Calum says in exasperation, nodding at Michael as Michael’s eyes light up.

“Fuck you,” Michael says, but there’s no heat behind the words and he’s already pulled his phone out. “Arty’s?” Calum and Luke nod, because where else would they order from, and Luke flops back onto the sofa with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not letting you bring a Hawaiian pizza into my house, though,” Luke warns Michael. Michael blinks innocently at him.

“Hi, I’d like to order three pizzas,” he says, maintaining eye contact with Luke. “Two pepperoni, and one with ham and pineapple.” Luke rolls his eyes and flips him off. “Oh, is that a Hawaiian? I had no idea. Yes, just one, please.”

“Dickhead,” Luke says, and Michael smiles at him sweetly as he flips him off in return.

-------

On Friday, Luke oversleeps.

That’s not particularly out of the ordinary, except this time, Luke really oversleeps. Like, he-should-be-at-his-desk-by-the-time-he-gets-out-of-bed kind of oversleeping.

He swears under his breath as he fumbles with his phone, firing off a text to Calum to cover for him if Phil happens to walk into their office and ask where he is, and tries to pull his clothes on as he’s brushing his teeth. He doesn’t have time to check whether or not he’s got everything he needs, just tears out of the house and sprints all the way to the station. There’s a train to Central idling at the platform, looking like it could close its doors any minute, so Luke legs it onto the nearest carriage, swinging himself into the first empty set of seats he can find and trying to catch his breath.

The train doors close about twenty seconds later, when Luke’s breathing is starting to even out, but Luke barely notices, already engrossed in his phone. He’s so engrossed in sending Calum a text to say he’s on his way, in fact, that he doesn’t notice someone looming over him, until he hears a “Luke?” that startles him into looking up. His face drops into a scowl almost immediately as his stomach plummets, because what the fuck.

It’s Ashton fucking Irwin.

Again.

“What the fuck?” Luke says, not sure whether he’s saying it in surprise or anger.

“Hi,” Ashton says, and he’s definitely just surprised. “You’re not usually here.”

“I woke up late,” Luke says, even though he doesn’t owe Ashton an explanation for his movements.

“Can I sit down?”

“No,” Luke says, because it’s early, he’s frazzled, and he’s late for work. “The train is empty. Sit somewhere else.”

“We should talk,” Ashton says, which seems to be, like, the only fucking sentence he’s capable of saying.

“About?” Ashton stares at him like he’s an idiot.

“Uh, the tattoos growing?” he says, and, yeah, okay. That’s kind of fair. Luke had hung up on Ashton mid-conversation, after all, and then sent off an email about their situation to some researchers without telling him.

“Fine,” Luke says, indicating the seat opposite him with one hand and placing his phone on the table between them with the other. Ashton slides into the seat opposite him, raking a hand through his black hair, and Luke can’t help the way his eyes are drawn to Ashton’s biceps with the movement. He’s definitely more muscular than he’d been the last time Luke had seen him. Well, not the last time, but the last-last time. Actually, it’s the last-last-last time, now. Luke doesn’t like that.

“I’ve been looking it up,” Ashton begins, and Luke waves him away.

“The London study?” he says, cutting to the chase, because he really doesn’t want to talk to Ashton any longer than he has to. Ashton bites his lip, and nods. “Yeah. I emailed them.” He waits for the frown, for the you told them? Luke, I really would have liked to have been part of that decision, but it never comes.

“Me too,” Ashton says. Luke frowns. It’s hypocritical, but that doesn’t sit well with him. It makes his skin crawl, that Ashton’s emailed them too, because he’s probably spun the story in a way that makes him sound better.

“What did you say?” Luke says, a little sharply. Ashton shrugs, but Luke sees the edge of tension in his posture. He pushes down the discomfort that arises at the realisation that he still knows Ashton’s mannerisms, that the little twist of his mouth means he’s uncomfortable about something.

“I told them the truth,” Ashton says.

“The truth?” Luke says, arching an eyebrow. “Or your truth?”

“I told them my side of the story,” Ashton says, which means he’s given them this whole I was just scared of commitment, I still loved you bullshit, with maybe a smidge of I tried to win my soulmate back over but he wasn’t having it. “Wait, what did you say?”

“That you fell out of love with me.” Ashton stares at him for a moment, and then shakes his head.

“Fuck,” he says, and Luke thinks that summarises it pretty aptly. “Have you heard back?” Luke shrugs. He never really checks his non-work emails - it’s usually full of junk he signed up to ten years ago and has never been bothered to unsubscribe from.

“Haven’t looked,” he says.

“I haven’t,” Ashton says, even though Luke hadn’t asked.

“Good for you.” Ashton bites his lip, like he wants to say something else, but then sinks back into his seat, like he’s thought better of it. Luke’s glad - this morning has been shitty enough without having another lengthy conversation with Ashton about their feelings, or whatever.

Ten minutes pass, and Luke unlocks his phone to do something, anything other than give Ashton any indication that he’s open to another conversation, ending up playing Tetris and shielding it from Ashton’s view so it looks like he’s possibly texting a cute guy, or something. He’s actually doing pretty well, getting close to beating his high score, when Ashton says: “What’s yours?”

“Huh?” Luke says, momentarily distracted. He drops the piece in the wrong place, and swears under his breath. Fucking Ashton.

“What did you get?” Ashton presses. “When it grew?”

“Spot,” Luke says.

“Oh,” Ashton says, in a small voice, like it’s an answer he hadn’t wanted to hear. That piques Luke’s interest, despite himself.

“Why?”

“I- uh.” Ashton looks out of the window at the grey buildings bathed in summer sun. “Mine’s your dog. Clifford.”

“Right,” Luke says slowly, because he feels like he’s missing something here.

“Do you think-” Ashton says, and then cuts himself off, biting his lip.

“Do I think what , Ashton?” Luke says, a touch irritably. Ashton shrugs, and Luke’s about ready to throttle him. “Spit it out, Jesus Christ. I don’t have time for this.”

“It’s just- we got them after meeting in the dog park,” Ashton says, all in a rush. “Do you think it’s going to happen every time we bump into each other?” Luke blinks at him.

“What, you think I’m going to get a fucking train on my back now?” he says sarcastically.

“I don’t know,” Ashton says thoughtfully, completely ignoring Luke’s sarcasm. It makes Luke’s blood boil a little bit, that Ashton’s disregarding him like that, and he clenches his teeth. Professional. Arm’s length. No emotion. “But it seems a bit coincidental, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Luke says, through gritted teeth. “There’s only so many things about you the universe could turn into a tattoo. Spot’s one of them.”

“What if whenever we see each other-”

“Jesus, Ashton, it doesn’t matter ‘what if’, because we’re not going to see each other anymore, are we?” Luke snaps. “I think I’ve made myself pretty clear.” Ashton looks a little taken aback, blinking at Luke.

“Luke,” he says slowly, patronisingly, like Luke’s a child that needs something obvious explaining to him, as the train starts to slow down. Luke’s going to dust off his old boxing skills and break Ashton’s nose. “We broke up two years ago. How many times did we see each other in those two years?”

“None, until a month ago, which is what I fucking wa-”

“Exactly,” Ashton says calmly, cutting Luke off. The train judders to a halt, as Luke stares at Ashton furiously, trying to work out what he’s saying. He’s so fucking full of himself, honestly - exactly, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? He’s always liked speaking in tongues, making himself feel intelligent, like he’s better than Luke- “This is your stop, isn’t it?”

Luke grinds his teeth, but Calum can only stave Phil off for so long, so he gets up and gathers his things together, grabbing his phone and bag and getting up while counting down from ten in his head to stop himself saying something he regrets.

“Bye,” Ashton calls, when Luke rounds the corner to the doors, like they’re fucking friends.

“Go fuck yourself,” Luke spits back, earning himself a shocked look from the guy he shoulders past to get off the train. It’s not professional, it’s not arm’s length, and it’s definitely not devoid of emotion, but fuck, it feels good.

-------

“What the fuck crawled up your arse?” Calum asks, when Luke snaps at him for the fifth time in about half an hour. Luke sighs, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Ashton was on my train this morning.”

“What?” Calum’s irritability is suddenly replaced with pure shock. “Is he stalking you?”

“Possibly,” Luke says. “God. I fucking hate him, Cal.”

“What’d he do?”

“He always thinks he’s better than me,” Luke says angrily. “Like, he’s always been the one that’s into philosophy, reads seven hundred newspapers every morning, does yoga and reads religious texts and all that, and he’s always looked down on me for not doing that, like that somehow makes me less intelligent than him. He talks to me like I’m a fucking kid , talks to me in riddles because he likes it when I have to ask him what he means, likes the fucking power trip-”

“Hey,” Calum says, cutting Luke off, and Luke stops, breathing heavily. “I know.”

“I hate him,” Luke says again, but it’s smaller this time, and he feels tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. Jesus. He’s so over crying over Ashton Irwin.

“I know,” Calum repeats, gentle and calm. “You want to get some fresh air?” Luke doesn’t, really, because it’s about thirty-five degrees outside and it’s hot enough in the air-conditioned office, but he nods anyway. Calum scrapes his chair back and follows Luke out of the office, down the stairs to the fire exit that Chris had disabled the alarm from so that he could go out to smoke and only told Calum and Luke about, and Luke gulps down breaths of the muggy December air as soon as they’re outside. It helps to ground him, feeling the hot breeze stealing across his face, and he closes his eyes and tilts his head into the bright afternoon sun, letting spots dance across the inside of his eyelids.

“What’d he say?” Calum asks, after a few minutes have passed and Luke’s breathing is steady and even.

“Some fucking bullshit,” Luke mumbles. “He got Clifford, and apparently that means something, because we didn’t see each other for two years. Like, what the fuck is that, a cryptic crossword clue? Does he think I work for ASIS?” There’s a pause, and then the pause becomes too long to be comfortable, and Luke cracks open an eyelid. Calum’s staring at him, something between shock and horror etched across his features. “What?”

“Jesus, Luke,” Calum says. “Fuck.”

“What, Cal, I’ve fucking had it with this cryptic bullshi-”

“What if the tattoos are going to grow every time you bump into each other?” Calum says.

“Yeah, Calum, I got that, I’m not that fucking stupid,” Luke says, exasperated. “He said that, but I pointed out that it doesn’t matter either way, because I’m not going to see him.”

“That’s exactly his point,” Calum says. “You haven’t seen him in two years, and now you bump into him twice in the space of a couple of weeks.” And, oh.

Oh.

“What the fuck?” Luke demands, because he can’t think of anything better that sums up all the thoughts racing through his mind right now.

“I mean, think about it,” Calum says slowly, a little hesitantly, like Luke’s about to bite his head off.

(Luke might bite his head off.)

“I’m thinking,” Luke says, and it comes out almost a growl.

“The tattoos, they come fr- well, we think they must come from the universe, right? So what if the universe is pulling the strings so you’re bumping into each other now?” Luke stares at him in disbelief.

“That’s the worst theory I’ve ever heard,” he says after a moment. “If the universe was pulling any fucking strings it wouldn’t have let me and Ashton date in the first place, and it definitely wouldn’t have let Ashton break up with me in a way that nearly made me kill myself.”

The words ring harsh in the thick December air, and Luke wants to claw them back as soon as they leave his lips. It’s an unspoken rule that they don’t talk about it, they don’t say that Luke nearly killed himself over Ashton. They can allude to it, make polite euphemisms, but they don’t say it.

“Luke,” Calum says, and his tone is soft, and Luke doesn’t want his pity.

“No, Cal,” Luke says, and it’s a little too harsh. “Sorry.” Calum tries to protest, but Luke cuts in first- “No, I’m sorry. I’m just- it’s not been a good day, but that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. I know you’re only trying to help. I just...I’m sorry. Let’s not talk about it.” He exhales, raking a hand through his hair, and Calum puts a hand on his forearm.

“Hey,” he says, calm, reassuring. “It’s okay, Luke.”

It’s not, Luke thinks, as he tries for a weak smile. It’s not okay, because it’s Ashton, and he doesn’t know when it’s going to be okay again.

-------

A text arrives from Ashton when Luke’s packing up to leave.

Ashton Irwin I was right.

Luke blocks his number.

-------

Luke changes his routine, after that.

Blocking Ashton’s number made him feel kind of worse, kind of jumpier and leaves a twist somewhere deep in his gut which he doesn’t really understand, so he unblocks him after a bottle of red wine on Saturday night. He steadfastly refuses to look in the mirror, though, because the more he’s been thinking about Calum’s (and, he supposes, Ashton’s) conspiracy theory, the more it seems to root itself in his mind, twining itself around all of his thoughts. It’s just easier not to think about it, to focus on the fourteen thousand other things he has to do and ignore the way his back feels like it’s on fire whenever he devotes any attention to it.

He finally checks his emails on Sunday evening. He’s got twenty minutes before he needs to be at Calum’s, so he figures it’s a good time to see whether the researchers have got back to him since he can’t sit and freak out about it, and he’s got Clifford curled up on his lap serenely, so he feels grounded enough to look.

There’s a bunch of shit, as he’d expected, and he sits with his finger on the backspace key for about five minutes, deleting all the Nike subscription list emails (why the fuck do they send out so many?), until one catches his eye.

RE: Soulmate Tattoo Growth

Luke’s palms are immediately slick with sweat, heart pounding in every inch of his body as he clicks the email open. Clifford rolls over in his lap with a small whine, resting his head on Luke’s thigh, like he can sense Luke’s anxiety.

From: <[email protected]> To: <[email protected]> Cc: <[email protected]> RE: Soulmate Tattoo Growth

Dear Mr Hemmings,

Thank you very much for your email. Apologies for the length of time it took to send a response, but as you can imagine we are currently inundated with queries.

Your case is of particular interest to us. Though we cannot currently provide you with any concrete answers, there are many elements to your particular situation which we would like to explore and perhaps discover answers to, if you would be willing to be a part of our study. I will attach both mine and my colleague’s contact details should you decide to take us up on our offer.

We believe your soulmate contacted us too, and we have made the same offer to him.

Kind regards,

Colin Johnson

Beneath the email are two sets of phone numbers, emails and addresses to a university in London.

Luke swallows, hard. It’s far from the answer he had wanted, although he’d known deep down that expecting a don’t worry, everything will be fine response had been wishful thinking on a new level. He’d never expected them to want to study him, though, to be reduced to some kind of scientific experiment. Something about that doesn’t sit quite right with him.

He closes his laptop, not wanting to think about it anymore, and tips Clifford off his lap.

“C’mon, Cliff,” he says. “Let’s go to Calum’s.”

-------

“You’re a fucking cheat,” Michael yells, when Calum scores again, and Luke can’t help laughing at the look of pure outrage on his face as he rounds on Calum. “How the fuck did you do that? How the fuck did you do that?” He’s shaking his controller in Calum’s face, but Calum just laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Pure talent,” he says, grinning at Michael. Michael scoffs, somehow managing to sound furious while doing it.

“You’re cheating,” he insists, and Calum laughs harder, curling in on himself on the sofa. “Luke, help me out.” Luke holds his hands up, laughing as he shakes his head. “You fucking bastard. What do I keep you around for if not to gang up on Calum with me?”

“To stare at my arse,” Luke says, because Michael stares at his arse a lot.

“You do stare at his arse a lot,” Calum tells Michael. Michael squawks, incensed.

“You’re not allowed to gang up on me!” he says indignantly. “Cliff, you’re on my side, right? You think Cal’s a dirty cheat, don’t you?” Clifford just stares up at Michael, wagging his tail happily. “He thinks you’re a dirty cheat, Cal.”

“That’s funny,” Calum says conversationally, “because I think he was actually saying Mike, you’re a sore loser?”

“I heard something that sounded like Michael’s just not very good at Fifa?” Luke adds innocently. Calum nods, mock-thoughtful.

“I’m pretty sure that was in there somewhere,” he agrees.

“Fuck you both,” Michael says, glaring at each of them in turn. “I’m good at Fifa. I’ve been playing it since Fifa 06.”

“On the fucking Wii, Mike, that doesn’t count,” Luke says.

“Maybe Fifa 22 just isn’t for you,” Calum says with a shrug, eyes gleaming.

“They’re all the fucking same, Calu-” Michael starts, before he seems to realise what Calum’s suggesting. “Fuck you, fucking-” He doesn’t finish his sentence, choosing instead to launch himself at Calum, who squeals, laughter turning to gasps for air and frantic pleas of stop, please, Mikey, please, stop, Luke, help me. Luke takes a wary step back - there’s no telling who Michael’s going to attack when he feels slighted by both of them, and Luke’s even more ticklish than Calum, so he’s not taking any chances, thank you very much.

Eventually, Michael relents, and Calum wheezes, red-faced and panting, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Michael sits back, pushing his fringe out of his face with a satisfied look on his face.

“Fuck you,” Calum manages, gazing at the ceiling. Michael grins.

“If you ask nicely,” he says. Luke pulls a face.

“See if I ever suck your dick again,” Calum says, still speaking to the ceiling, and Luke can’t help the choked noise that escapes his throat. Calum pulls his head up, like he’s just remembered Luke’s there, and Michael’s grin widens at the horrified look on Luke’s face.

“Okay,” Luke says, as Calum struggles to push himself back into a seated position on the sofa. “Ground rules. I don’t want to hear about your sex life.” Michael rolls his eyes, still grinning.

“Prude,” he says, but he doesn’t mean it. Luke just flips him off.

“Can I lay a ground rule?” Calum says. “Michael has to admit he’s bad at Fifa before I consider making you all dinner.” Michael crosses his arms.

“Firstly, that’s not a ground rule,” he says.

“I’m not taking criticism,” Calum says.

“Secondly,” Michael continues breezily, like Calum had never spoken, “I respect you too much to lie to you.”

“Good, because I’m starving,” Luke says, looking at Michael expectantly. Michael scowls.

“Let’s settle this in a real football match,” Calum says. “Five a side next Saturday.” Michael doesn’t look too keen on the idea, and even Luke hesitates.

“It’s fucking December, Cal,” he says. “I’m going to keel over from heatstroke after twenty minutes.”

“You’re going to keel over from heatstroke?” Michael says. “I’m probably not going to even make it onto the pitch.”

“Hey,” Calum says. “You both owe me favours. I’m calling them in.”

“What fucking favour do I owe you?” Michael says indignantly.

“You know,” Calum says pointedly.

“I don’t,” Michael says. Calum’s making a face at him, one that Luke doesn’t have to be his soulmate to read, a you know what I’m talking about, get the hint, I can’t say it in front of Luke.

“Yes, you do,” Calum says, eyes flicking to Luke. Michael follows his gaze, and then realisation dawns on his face.

“Oh,” he says, sounding distinctly annoyed about it. “Fine. But I’m only playing one half.”

“I don’t owe you any favours,” Luke says confidently, when Calum’s gaze slides over to him.

“Think again,” Calum says, grinning. “I told you I don’t help with emails for free.” Luke groans.

“That was a joke,” he says.

“Nope,” Calum says cheerfully. “Five a side. Saturday. Ten o’clock.”

“Ten?” Luke’s not sure who sounds more scandalised, him or Michael.

“Ten,” Calum confirms, and Luke’s own groan is drowned out by Michael’s.

-------

On Tuesday, Luke finally snaps.

He’s somehow managed to pull his pyjama top off in his sleep, finding it discarded and drenched in sweat on the floor when he wakes up. There’s no point putting it back on, because it’s fucking boiling, so he just pads into the bathroom shirtless, yawning and scratching his arm.

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, puts on his moisturiser, and then turns to wipe his hands clean - and catches a flash of black ink as he does so.

Wet hands forgotten, he turns back to the mirror, staring at himself. He watches his own blue eyes blink back at him as he weighs up his options. He could keep ignoring it, pretending it’s not there, and he’d probably be okay at it, for a while. He could probably go another few weeks pretending nothing’s happened, distracting himself like he has been for the past five days - especially with Christmas just around the corner - but, when he’s honest with himself, he knows it’d always be there, at the back of his mind.

It can’t hurt to look, he tells his reflection. Mirror Luke just blinks at him, looking lost and confused, frown lines that weren’t there eight months ago etched into his forehead. It can’t hurt to look, because it won’t change anything. Whatever is there is there, whether or not Luke’s aware of it. His ignorance won’t make it go away, or stop it changing.

Taking a deep breath, he steels himself, keeping his eyes locked on his reflection, and turns around.

He immediately sees four numbers in an arc above the moon, and his heart sinks. 09:47.

He’s not entirely sure what the numbers mean, but he can hazard a guess. With one final glance at the tattoo, now taking up a large portion of his shoulderblade, he turns back and grabs his phone off the sink, scrolling back through his conversation with Calum to Friday morning.

Me I’m on the train.

He remembers sending that text. He’d sent it just as the train had started pulling out of the station, just before Ashton had appeared. With trembling fingers - which, okay, he thinks is fair given the situation he’s in - he swipes to the left on the message to see the timestamp.

09:47am.

The numbers blink back at him, grey on white, like they don’t know they’ve just confirmed something that cannot, cannot be true.

Luke cannot have his two options be work something out with Ashton or become a canvas for Ashton. There’s got to be a third option, a get-out-of-jail-free clause, something that isn’t telling him he’s either doomed to spend eternity with the last person he ever wants to see again, or become a mess of black ink and have his body display Ashton rather than being his own.

He barely even knows what he’s doing until the phone is at his ear.

“You finally looked?” Ashton says, and Luke hates it, hates that Ashton knows he’s tried to pretend it wasn’t happening.

“It can’t be right,” Luke says, voice too loud in the small bathroom, bouncing off all the tiles and feeding back into his own ears.

“What’s yours?”

“The time the train left,” Luke says, and his voice sounds a little shaky. He hopes Ashton can’t hear the tremors.

“Mine’s the time it arrived,” Ashton says, even though Luke hadn’t asked, he never fucking asks, because he doesn’t want to know.

“Shit,” Luke says, and he hears a quiet whine and some scratching at the bathroom door. He doesn’t have the energy to let Clifford in though, can barely even keep himself upright, steadying himself on the sink with the hand that isn’t clutching his phone.

“I know,” Ashton says. “Did they email you back?” Luke doesn’t have to ask who they are, just nods, numbly.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Do you want to do it?”

Luke hesitates. He hadn’t thought about Ashton even giving him a chance - he’d assumed Ashton would say whatever Ashton said, and Luke would say whatever Luke said. He hadn’t considered their answers not being separate.

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully.

“Okay,” Ashton says. “I mean. It’s a big decision.”

“I know, Ashton,” Luke says, frustrated that this is what Ashton wants to focus on, like they don’t have bigger things to worry about, like Luke’s skin becoming a museum to Ashton Fletcher Irwin. “I just- I don’t have time to think about it right now, okay?”

“Hey,” Ashton says, voice kind, gentle, soothing. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’ll get through this.”

A sudden wave of calmness surges through Luke’s veins, loosening his lungs, his heart, his mind. It’s like nothing Luke’s ever felt before, like falling asleep when he’s comfortably tired and waking up slowly and the sensation of the sun on his skin all at the same time.

It’s the scariest fucking thing Luke’s ever experienced in his life.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps out, heart constricting, lungs tightening, mind narrowing, and he stabs the ‘end call’ button as he sinks to the floor. His phone clatters onto the tiles, and Luke vaguely registers that it’s probably cracked, and the whining and scratching outside the door is getting louder and louder and Luke can’t fucking think, can’t fucking breathe because everything is Ashton, and nothing is Luke. Everything is Ashton, like he’s twenty-four all over again, sobbing on this bathroom floor after throwing up God knows how much alcohol.

It’s that thought that focuses him, sobers him, pulls him back to reality and away from his racing mind, because he’s not going to do that this time. Ashton’s taken enough from him, taken love and happiness and tears and almost his fucking life, and Luke’s not going to do that this time.

His vision swims back into relative clarity as he focuses on his breathing like his therapist always said - in, hold, out; in, hold, out - and he wrestles himself to his knees to pull down the door handle. As soon as there’s a crack in the door, Clifford’s racing through, and Luke releases the door handle with a bang and falls back against the bathtub as Clifford climbs all over him, still whining, licking every inch of Luke’s skin. Luke wraps his arms around him, and Clifford carries on licking, warm and rough against Luke’s skin. It grounds him, reminding him that he’s here, he’s alive, he’s got Clifford to look after, he’s got the cool bathtub pressed uncomfortably against his spine. His shaky breathing evens out, and he feels colour returning to his face. Clifford begins to settle a little, only licking at Luke’s chin, and when Luke thinks about the fact that he’s now going to have to shower and be late for work the tightness in his chest loosens a little.

Work. That’s a safe thought. That’s somewhere Ashton can never touch him. That’s all Luke.

Luke sets Clifford down, much to Clifford’s discontent, and gets to his feet, a little unsteady. He pulls his phone off the floor with him - great, there’s a new crack running smoothly from the top left corner to the middle of the right hand side of the screen - and unlocks it, typing out a message to Michael and Calum with only slightly trembling fingers.

Me I think I just had my first soulmate experience.

taglist: @glitterlukey @hey-its-grey

chapter five

#lashton #malum #5sos fic #5sos slash #5sos fanfiction #jesus christ i cant lie ive been half asleep for the past 2 hours so i hope...this isnt trash #i guess we will find out in the morning #ALSO im really fuckng tired im sorry i know i am literally the worst but im going to respond to messages in the morning i truly am #literally 0.3 seconds away from falling asleep #i love u all i just want to do ur messages justice #especially u maggie INSPIRING me #idek if ur reading this but if u are

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aquaticalay · 5 years ago

Text

Siren .Chapter Three.

Bucky Barnes x Sonic Screaming!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes fancies you, a singer who performs at a local bar every Monday and Friday night. After a few months of attending your gigs, Bucky finally got the chance to talk to you. One problem: you are New York's sonic screaming vigilante. And the avengers have been trying to figure out who you are for months. (Post-Endgame)

Warning/s for this chapter : cursing lol, mentions of violence

Warning/s for the series: cursing, violence, eventual smut (which you can skip)

Word count: 1800+

Disclaimer: I do not own the Marvel characters.

Note: I'm uploading on mobile for the third time, still won't show up in the tags. Help

I will post a new chapter every two days. Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist!

"This person did what?" Sam asked, making sure if he heard Bucky correctly. The two of them were in the Avengers meeting room the next morning.

"Screamed," He confirmed. "And it was inhuman. Even I hurt all over."

Sam studied the gun he brought back, then looked back at Bucky, an interrogative look on his face.

"What?" Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, "You don't believe me? Well–"

"Oh, I believe you," Sam said blankly, "In the last three months, there have been five reports on a high pitched noise. In the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and Newark. The fifth was from Harlem last night, your encounter," Sam breathed, "I have been looking into it alone. I thought it was some sort of device. I… didn't even think it might be a person."

Bucky's finger anxiously tapped on the table. He hadn't seen who the person was. The hood she was wearing had given the person the features of a shadow— it's like they weren't even real. It was ghostly, the way they disappeared.

"If you find this… Siren, tell me. I want to be the one to find them," Bucky demanded, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

You were the first to wake up. Still in the apartment, you noticed everyone around you was a mess, sleeping and snoring like college kids after a long night of partying. Vince and Luna stayed up until four, both of them in a state of panic. They were worried about getting caught, even after Lando reassured them that it was incredibly hard to track you, thanks to the layers and layers of security that he has set for your online presence. Lando fell asleep on the computer desk, after a long night of fortifying the security.

You decided to leave them a note saying that you were going home. You changed into a white shirt and sweatpants, stuffing all your things in a duffel bag.

You took the subway to Manhattan, where your apartment was.

Your home was not small— not at all.

It was a penthouse in the center of Manhattan, but some sort of guilt always haunted you when you step in. The penthouse wasn't yours, not really. You inherited it from your father, who was allegedly killed after he created you.

You've always loved to sing, ever since you were a child. Three years ago, a desperate ex-KGB spy, who has descended into madness, held you hostage in exchange for your father's money. When he found out your father has secretly contacted the police, he slit your throat, then commited suicide by stabbing himself.

They were able to salvage your life, but your vocal cords has been badly damaged, and every doctor you met told you the damage was beyond repair. You couldn't even talk, let alone sing.

Your father one of the four founders of Viseur Corps, a scientific research corporation. The other three owners were parents of Vince, Luna, and Lando.

Your father urged a bioengineering project to fix your vocal cords called project 'vox.' After a year of extensive surgeries, you could finally speak again.

The side effect, however, was unexpected.

A small miscalculation allowed your vocal cords to vibrate at the speed of sound itself, sometimes even faster.

A week after, all four scientists were found dead, cyanide poison in their systems, and the bioactive particles and chemical radiation used to restore your vocal cords has been stolen. Thankfully, without a proper application method, the sonic characteristics of the vocal cords were hard to replicate. Hard, but not impossible.

The killer has never been found. Two years later, the sonic formula finally popped up in your radar. If you got the formula, you could stop anyone else from weaponizing the vox formula, and you could finally track the murderer.

You laid down on the couch, feeling utterly useless. You've got a gig to play a day after tomorrow, you could get some well-needed rest today. One problem: you could not rest. Not mentally. The burden of being somewhat responsible for your own father’s death, and your inability to catch the murderer so far has urged you to do more physical activities. Running, swimming, anything to get your mind off the stress. It has been an effective way to deal with negative energy.

You took a shower, and decided to go for a jog. You had your earphones embedded in into your earlobes, shielding you from any conversation attempt. It was a nice day. The sun was not too bright, the wind was not too hard. In the middle of your run, the music stopped. The tune changed into your ringtone, and you slowed down to look at your phone. It was Lando.

You stopped running altogether and started walking as you answered the call.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“(Y/n),” he said over the line. You could tell he was tired, “Got home safe?”

"Yeah," you told him shortly, "What's up?"

"You're on the news," he told you urgently, "well, not you. The other guy. You know, your alter ego.."

"Shit," you whispered, "How bad is it?"

"It's the headline on every news channel," he said worriedly.

As you were approaching a cafè, you did not hesitate to go in. You saw a TV in the corner, and sure enough, there was footage of your confrontation with James Barnes on the screen.

'The Avengers has started a nationwide manhunt for what they call 'The Siren,' said a reporter.

"(Y/n)?" Lando said through the phone. You were struck, you forgot you were still on the phone.

You snapped back to life, "I'll call you back."

Without waiting for an answer, you turned off the call.

You were in the middle of the cafè staring at the TV.

So yeah, some people were already looking at you funny.

When you noticed, you decided to get coffee. It would be weird just to burst in, stare at the TV, and just leave. You ordered a latte and took a seat, where you had a good view of the screen.

You listened intently, taking a good sip of your coffee.

They were describing what they could about your physical features, but with your suit on, the description weren't very accurate.

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you froze.

"I didn't expect to see you here," said James Barnes. He was wearing a dark denim jacket and jeans, but he was missing his gloves and sunglasses.

He wasn't in 'disguise.’ He wasn’t trying to hide his identity, unlike last night.

Some people looked at him and whispered in awe that there was an avenger in the room, but no one really said anything. He still had his metal arm in his pocket, but it was probably more of a habit than a conscious act.

"Hi," you managed to give a smile. He ran his human fingers through his brown locks of hair nervously, "Do you mind if I…" he pointed to the empty seat in front of you. You tried your best not to panic, "Go ahead."

He sat, a paper cup of coffee on his hand.

Your heart was beating fast, thumping out of your chest. What if he found out it was you? What if he knew? What if he was here to confront your identity as the so-called 'Siren' the news has been talking about?

"Busy day, huh?" You said without thinking, tilting your chin towards the TV.

"Oh, right," Barnes said, pleasantly surprised that you knew who he was.

You had to hold back a sigh of relief. He didn't know it was you. You had to make sure it stayed that way.

"Yeah, I didn't recognize you last night, James," you forced a smile, but it came out sincere, "probably because of the sunglasses, and it was dark, too."

"I don't blame you," he let out a hearty laugh, "and please, call me Bucky."

"Well, Bucky," you said, and you have to admit your mouth liked the sound of his name, "what brings you here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I come here every once in a while. Best coffee in all of New York," He sipped his coffee again, "and you?"

"Just passing by," you told him. In your defense, it was the truth, to some degree.

"I've been meaning to tell you," he said, and you could've sworn his cheeks turned a slightly redder shade, "you have a great voice."

"Thanks," you chuckled, and this time, you didn't need to fake it, "I try."

"No, really," he insisted, "and your performance was incredible. How long have you been doing this?"

Somehow, this was the beginning of a long chat, way longer than you expected. You were trapped in a three-hour long conversation with the charming man. Little by little, your worries fade away until it completely disappeared. You started enjoying his presence, laughing at his childhood stories as well as telling your own.

Before you knew it, it was four in the afternoon.

"I probably need to get back," he said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. He masked it quickly with a curve on his lips.

"Oh," you said, followed with a smile, "See you around?" You asked with uncertainty.

"I hope so," he gave you a smile and walked out the cafè. You watched him go through the window, where he gave you one last small adorable wave. You found yourself giggling, waving back.

When he was nowhere out of sight, you noticed a scribble on your napkin. It was Bucky's number, followed with an old fashioned handwriting. 'Text me?'

You did not text him right away. You found yourself pacing back and forth in your apartment, frustrated. You had a good time. Such a great time, in fact, that you forgot he was in the middle of hunting you down.

Was it a smart move? You tried to convince yourself that it was a good idea. That this could be one one of those 'hiding in plain sight' tactics. He would never suspect someone he knew, right?

You flopped down on the couch, and grabbed your phone. You already saved his number. All you needed to do was type out the words.

'Hey, James. This is (Y/n). Got your number :)'

You hit send, telling yourself again and again that this was a good idea. It probably wasn't, but you only told yourself what you wanted to hear.

"You seem happy," Sam teased, raising eyebrows at Bucky, who just entered the room. Bucky shrugged, "Maybe I want to be happy."

"Whoa, what?" Sam said. Was this Bucky? Sam wondered, The same anti-social Bucky who only drank black coffee and only expressed his true emotions once in a blue moon?

"What's going on, man?" Sam urged, grinning at his friend's joy, which radiated in his smile.

"You know that bar I've been going to?" Bucky asked. Sam nodded, "The Mermaid- something? Didn't you say you've been crushing on a singer there for months?"

Bucky nodded, "I met her at a cafe," he beamed, "I spent some time getting to know her."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Sam jokingly exclaimed, "Old man Barnes is back it the game, folks!"

Bucky chuckled, hoping to get a notification sometime soon.

A few hours later, his phone gave off a little noise. For the first time in a long time, he couldn't stop smiling.

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