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letsgivethisonemoreshot · 3 years ago

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BruiserMates

Word Count: 4,644 (it's a long one)

Warnings: Sexual Situations, banter, there's some fluff in there somewhere.

Summary: The British Bruiserweight is more grumpy than usual. But his friends and a co-worker think they just might know a way to fix it. (Also, I tried to make an attempt to keep true with accents for the first time. So I apologize if it's horrible!)

The lukewarm water rushed out of a shower head in the back of the arena. The water pressure in these showers were never that good, but it was early and Lauren had the whole locker room to herself. She had the curtain drawn for privacy, just in case anyone else arrived early. Mostly because she was in the men’s showers. And just as she was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, she heard several voices from the locker room echo into the bathroom.

"You could've stopped to get breakfast first." A British accent rang out.

"They 'ad food at the hotel." The familiar accent of Pete filled the room.

"Not anything for a vegan. And ya know that." Another voice argued.

"I don't know every damn vegan place in tha country." Pete spat back.

"Uh guys, just so you know you're not alone in here." Lauren informed them.

"Who in the bloody hell is that?"

"Lauren. I'm a backstage interviewer here. I really needed a shower after my workout before I got ready to work and they were cleaning in the women's locker room when I got there. No one was in here so I ran in. I'll be quick." She explained.

"Pete?"

"Yeah, she works here." He vouched, recognizing her voice.

"Ah. Alright then love. As long as you work here. I'm Tyler by the way."

"Trent." The other voice rang out.

"You guys are here from NXT UK for the tag tournament, right?" Lauren asked.

"You got it love." Trent answered as he turned on a shower on the opposite side of where Lauren was. "And you don't 'av to rush. We don't mind if you don't."

"As long as you stay on that side of the curtain." Lauren responded in a joking but friendly way.

"Great." Pete murmured.

"What's wrong with you?" Trent asked him.

"He's still sore about his girlfriend messin' around on him." Tyler answered getting ready to get a shower himself.

"Tell my business to the whole locker room, why don't ya." Pete said annoyed.

"She's the only otha one in here. And she sees ya more than us. I'm sure she's noticed you're grumpy."

"No more than usual." Lauren said as she conditioned her hair.

"Aw piss off all of ya."

"See? He's always this pleasant."

"I thought you said you were gonna be quick." Pete pointed out.

"I was, until Trent was nice enough to tell me I didn't have to. So now I'm taking my time."

Pete let out an aggravated grunt. "I can't shower with 'er in here."

"Relax Pete, I'm almost done. What brings you guys in here so early anyway?"

"Time change. Kind of has us messed up. And Pete just doesn't sleep." Tyler replied. "What about you? And working out nonetheless. I’d think you’d moreso be off writing questions."

"How else am I supposed to fit myself into those tiny dresses they want me to wear?" Lauren partially joked, causing two of the englishmen to chuckle. "I have a few interviews I have to do for some social media shows before the actual show tonight. This was the only time I could fit in a work out. I was going to shower real quick then get to work, but the women’s bathroom was closed, so I that brought me here. I guess it’s just bad timing.”

"Ah, I wouldn't say that love." Trent said.

"Well maybe not on my part. Anybody could walk in here. So many people have probably had fantasies that start like this. But apparently, it’s bad timing for some of you.”

"Would any of those fantasies include any of us by any chance?" Trent asked in a joking tone.

“Trent, ya can’t just ask a woman ya just met something like that.” Tyler chastised.

“Why not? I’m just joking.”

"Hm, some just might." Lauren answered.

"For fucks sake…"

"Jesus Pete calm down, I'm done. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." Lauren said as she turned off the water and wrapped her towel around herself.

"Yeah relax mate. We're just messin' around." Trent said to his friend.

"You need to get laid." Lauren stated.

"Excuse me?" Pete asked, sounding offended.

"We've been telling him that the last two weeks love." Tyler said to her.

She pulled open the curtain and stepped out of the shower stall. "Take it from someone who pushed away a lot of her friends by being a negative mope after going through a rough breakup. If she's gonna fuck around, then so can you. Try smiling, go get laid, and live. See ya later boys. I believe I'll be the one interviewing you later!" Lauren called out before walking away.

Lauren left them alone in the men's locker room and walked back to the women's which was thankfully now able to be occupied. She walked quicker than she planned seeing as how she couldn't get dressed there with the guys there. So she was running around in just a towel. No one had really showed up to get ready yet, but she still had to go over interview questions, get dressed, and was expected by the stylists soon. She was rummaging through her bag when there was a lock at the door. She dropped what was in her hands and curiously walked over to the door. Upon opening it she saw an annoyed Pete Dunne standing there. He was still in his trousers, nice button down shirt, and vest. His hair pulled back. Obviously he still hadn't gotten into the shower yet.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you? Miss me already?"

Pete held out a plastic bag with tiny bottles inside. "Ya left your crap in the shower."

"And you're such a gentleman you brought it back to me?" Lauren joked.

"I drew the short straw."

"You sure it doesn't have anything to do with what I said?" She asked as she took the plastic bag from him. “Because my fantasies about you usually start with me still dressed and you ripping my clothes off me, but if this is how it happens I’ll take it.”

“No, it’s because I was the only one who was still dre…wait, what?”

Lauren smiled "Thanks for bringing my stuff back Pete. I forgot it in all the conversation. And if you’re just here to drop it off, I really need to finish getting ready. I need to be in make-up soon. I’ll see you around later.”

She closed the door, leaving Pete standing there dumbfounded at the interaction he just had.

Lauren had gotten dressed and was sitting in the make-up chair. She had decided on a short black off the shoulder dress. Even though the shoulders were bare, the dress had long sleeves, making a bit more acceptable in the workplace. The strappy heels that she had on also made it a bit less casual. She already had her hair done. She chose to leave it down since it was only shoulder length, but add some waves to it. Pete had wandered over to the area as Lauren was laughing while the make-up artist applied the dusty pink lipstick. Lauren was deep in conversation with the artist. She got along with everyone. Well, mostly everyone. She was easy to talk to and calming, which was a plus with her job. The interviews always flowed nicely and never seemed forced. She never really had any real problems with anyone she worked with. Pete leaned against a wall off to the side watching her talk. He had his wrestling gear on now, and had his long hair dangling down over half of his face.

"Alright, all set. How's it look?" The make-up artist asked as she held up a mirror.

"It looks great! Thanks Rachel!"

"Awesome. If you need a touch up just let me know."

"I will. Thanks!"

Lauren checked in the mirror one last time, pursing her lips together, before jumping out of the make-up chair and leaving it for someone else. She walked away from the styling area and right passed where Pete was brooding.

"Lauren."

"Hey Pete." Lauren replied as she walked by.

"Hey, hold up."

"What's up?" She asked as she stopped and turned to him.

"You tell me." Pete stated.

"Is this about what I said earlier? I’m sorry for getting involved in your business. And I never would have said anything had we not already been in the middle of a conversation. But I’ve been there, and I didn’t want you to end up pushing your friends away with your bad attitude like I did.” She explained.

"Not that. After. At the locker room." Pete said in a much lower voice.

Lauren smiled and crossed her arms. "What is this? When is Pete Dunne so timid?"

Pete rolled his eyes. "F'get it."

"No I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself." Lauren said reaching out to grab his arm. "I'll be good. What did you want?"

"You to stop being intimidating for a moment would be good."

"I've heard that once or twice before, but not from anyone like you."

"What you said earlier, did you mean it?" Pete asked changing the subject.

"That you need a good lay to forget about her? Absolutely. Your friends seemed to agree."

"No. That you've 'ad fantasies about me." He said as he took a step closer to her.

"Maybe a few times." She answered, surprising him by the serious tone in her voice. He stood there not quite sure how to follow up while Lauren opened the small bag she had with her and looked through it. "Listen, I really have to go and interview Daniel Bryan. But if you want to take my advice, I would love to be the girl that gets under you to get over her. Room 308 if you're interested."

She slipped her spare hotel key into his hand before turning around and continuing to walk down the hallway. Later on that night Pete sat in the back watching the show on a t.v. He was watching Lauren interview his two best friends while he spun the hotel key around in his fingers while being lost in thought. He pulled it together to go out and put on a good show, like he always did. All of his cockiness and aggression was on display. Lauren had been watching his match extra closely that night.

After the show Lauren was sitting alone in her hotel room. She hadn't made any plans for the night in case Pete decided to show up. After about an hour of waiting, she decided to change her clothes and get comfortable. She had the television on and was laying down in the bed, trying to relax, but she found herself not paying attention to it and trying to figure out what reasons Pete could have for not showing up. After driving herself crazy for some time, around 11:30 she realized she was being silly. His good friends whom he hadn't seen in months were in the country for a bit, so he was going to be spending time with them. Plus with all the joking around that she had done with him that day he probably didn't even think she was serious. Or maybe he just wasn’t interested and didn’t know how to tell her in a nice way. Lauren grabbed her phone and laid down on her bed to play some games until she got tired. Only a few minutes after she relaxed herself for the night, there was a knock at her door.

Lauren put her phone down and got out of bed. She walked over to the door curious of who could be there this time of night, especially without texting her first. She looked through the peephole and saw Pete standing on the other side. She quickly opened the door.

"You do realize I gave you a key so you wouldn't have to knock and wait in the hallway, right?"

"I didn't feel right usin' it." Pete told her.

Lauren opened the door wider and stepped aside inviting him in. He stood near her as she closed the door.

"I see you stayed dressed for me." Pete joked as he looked at her in her pink tank top and black yoga pants.

"I could say the same for you." Lauren retorted noticing Pete was in grey sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"It's not m' job to look pretty." Pete stated.

"Good thing I'm off the clock then."

They hadn't really talked much before now, other than just a hello or exchanging pleasantries. Maybe being involved in the same conversation as a group of people. Mostly that was because Pete kept to himself or only really talked with the people he was close to, where as Lauren would talk with everyone and insert herself into others conversations. But Pete definitely took notice today that not many people were able to throw back at him the way that she did, and he liked it.

"So did you just come here to criticize my clothes or…" Lauren trailed off.

"Actually, I wanted to talk." He answered.

"Oh, uh okay."

Lauren definitely hadn't been expecting that. She lead him into the room a little bit more and she sat down on the edge of the bed. Pete took one of the seats that were in the room and placed it in front of her before sitting down as well.

"So?"

"I've been thinking about what ya said. And you're right. If she's gonna bang a bunch of guys and not care, then I should too. Well, ya know."

"So what's the hold up?" Lauren asked.

"I don't want pity sex with someone just because they feel sorry fa' me. Especially if it's someone I 'av to work with."

"I can understand that. I'm not really one for random hook ups either." Lauren agreed.

"But then why did you…"

"I like you Pete." Lauren told him.

"Why? I'm kind of a bastard." Pete asked confused.

Lauren laughed. "Yeah, most of the time. I've watched you. You're grumpy face and your angry promos. But I've also seen the way you joke around with your friends. I've seen how interact with kids. I know how much you care about animals. There's a sweet guy behind that whole bruiserweight thing."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Your best friends. Those goofballs wouldn't waste their time with a complete asshole." Lauren answered with a smile. She reached out and placed her hand over top of his. "I'll be honest. I've had the hots for you since you started coming around. And then when I actually learned things about you I had a crush on you. And seeing you laugh with your friends, I've wondered what it would have been like if we had that kind of relationship."

Pete couldn't help but flash a genuine smile that he usually kept hidden. "Why didn't ya eva say anything?"

"You had a girlfriend, remember?"

"Right. Right. Forgot about that."

"Well that was the plan." Lauren giggled.

"So girls really dig the whole aggressive arse thing huh?" Pete asked amused.

"Oh yeah. There's something wired wrong in our brains. And the accent doesn't hurt either.”

Pete leaned back slightly in his chair and chuckled.

"Did I just make Pete Dunne laugh?" Pete didn't even try to hide it this time after she pointed it out. "Up until now I think I've only made you scowl."

"Yeah yeah, just don't spread it around."

"Don't wanna ruin your unlovable reputation, huh?"

They both sat in awkward silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say next. Pete fidgeted in his chair slightly before standing up. Lauren promptly stood up along with him. He reached out and pulled her to him so her body was flushed with his, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug. The act took her by surprise.

"Thanks." He said into her ear.

Lauren put her arms around her torso returning the hug. But her senses perked up. He was still holding her, his head down and his nose grazing her neck. The thought of his mouth that close to her, with his history of biting, sent an electric wave through her nerves. She tried to push those thoughts out of her head and hugged him tighter.

"Anytime Pete." She said lightly.

Pete broke the hug and stepped aside looking down at her smiling. She gave him a half hearted smile. She was glad that she was able to be there for him, and it seemed like there was a friendship forming between them. But she was a little disappointed that it wasn't going further. And embarrassed that she told him how she felt, and now she had to deal with him at work all the time with him knowing that. She didn't say anything as she followed him as he walked to the door.

"I'll see ya around, alright?" Pete said as he put his hand on the doorknob.

Lauren nodded with a smile. She closed the door behind him and leaned it against it sighing. She felt like an idiot. She was just hoping he wouldn't make a big deal about it at work. She began walking back to her bed. When she was a few steps away, she heard the door click. She turned around and saw the knob turning. It pushed open and Pete walked back inside.

"Hey. Everything okay?" She asked confused.

He slammed the door behind him and walked towards Lauren, throwing the room key onto the bed as he passed it. He made it to where she was and placed his bands on her hips and pushed her up against the wall crashing his lips down onto hers. Lauren put her hands up on his shoulders, bracing herself at his actions. He moved his hands from her hips up to her sides all while continuing kissing her neck. He traced along the top of her tank top before grabbing it with both hands and ripping it down the middle. Lauren gasped into his mouth. Pete didn't give her any time to adjust to what he was doing before his hands traveled back down her body and behind her thighs picking her up and pressing her against the wall. He tore his lips away from hers to slowly lick down her chest until stopping at her partially exposed breast. He lightly licked around her nipple a few times before taking it into his mouth. Lauren ran her fingers through Pete's hair, softly moaning. When he lightly bit down she moaned deeper and arched her back off of the wall. Pushing herself even further into him, she became even more aware that her legs were spread around him and she could feel herself getting wetter every time he nibbled.

Pete pulled her away from the wall and carried her over to the bed. Lauren laid on the bed looking up at him trying to catch her breath. He was looking down at her with his signature cocky smirk. He reached out and lightly grabbed the waistband of her pants before yanking them off and crawling on top of her. Pete nuzzled into her neck kiss and biting causing her to arch her hips up and feel the large bulge in his sweatpants. Lauren slid her hands under his shirt and scraped her fingers down his chest bringing a low growl from him.

"You are wearing entirely too many clothes." Lauren informed him.

Pete chuckled, but it wasn't the light hearted one from earlier, there was a deeper tone to it. There was something sexy in that chuckle. He leaned up onto his knees and peeled his shirt off.

Lauren took the moment to just look at him, kneeling in front of her with his hair hanging down partially in his face. Watching his eyes in the light. He could see her eyes glancing up and down his body.

"Is this what ya wanted?" He asked.

"Fuck yes." Lauren answered out loud, instead of in her head like she planned. "But this was supposed to be for you."

"Does it seem like I'm not enjoyin' it?"

"Well yeah, but what is it you want?" Lauren asked.

"Haven't been asked that in a long time. Honestly?" Lauren nodded. "I want someone to want to be with me. Not just use me ta get off and pass out. Someone who enjoys being with me. To feel loved."

Lauren leaned up so she was sitting up in bed facing him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Sounds stupid. I guess when ya with someone for so long those things kind of become lost."

"No Pete, they don't." Lauren said as she placed her hand on his face. "That's what happens when people stop caring."

The words hurt Pete, but deep down he knew she was right.

"Lay down." She told him.

"What?" He asked confused.

"Take your pants off and lay down. Let me take care of you." She said it in such a calming tone, you'd forget they were just dry humping each other.

He complied with what she asked. Lauren removed her underwear and straddled him. He rubbed his hands on her thighs She pulled off what was left of her shirt. Pete unknowingly bit his lower lip upon seeing her naked in front of him.

"Like what ya see?" She asked with a coy smirk

"Damn love."

"You sure you wanna do this?" She asked him.

"Love if you don't get on me right now I'm going to push you down and get back on top of you."

Lauren smiled and moved to slide herself down onto his dick. She gasped as she slid down. She could have guessed the size of it based on what he wore in the ring, but she didn't think it was as thick as it was. Pete hissed as she began riding him.

"Fuck babe. You're so tight." He commented.

"Yeah, it's been a while." She replied as she rolled her hips.

"You're so wet." He stated.

"I told you, I like you. Now are you gonna do commentary the whole time or just enjoy it?"

"Oh I'm enjoying it love." Pete said as his hands slid up her legs. He groaned as he saw her bouncing on him, her breasts bouncing along with her. He ran his hand along her body and brushed his finger onto her clit causing her to yelp. He liked the sound that she made and continued to rub along her clit as she rode him.

"Fuck Pete if you keep that up I'm not gonna last long." She warned him.

"You keep makin' those sounds I won't eithea."

Lauren pushed his hand out of the way and brought her upper body down so she could kiss him before moving to his neck. She began kissing and sucking on his neck like he had been doing to her earlier. Pete reached around with both hands to grab her ass. She was moving at a slow and steady pace, keeping with his grunts of pleasure. She would bite down on his neck every once in a while hoping to catch him off guard. He would squeeze his grip tighter pushing her at a different pace causing her to moan.

"Wait, Lauren stop." Pete said suddenly.

Lauren stopped and sat up. "What's wrong?"

"I wanna be on top." He told her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Lauren wanted to stay on top and take care of him, but it's what he said he wanted to she switched positions with him. She had to admit having Pete in between her legs staring her down was something she had thought about several times. He began placing kisses down her collar bone as she ran her fingers through his hair again.

"Mmmm Pete, please." Lauren begged bringing a smile to his lips.

"Please what?" Pete asked as he ran his length along her entrance, teasing her.

"I know I'm being selfish at the moment but please, I need you." She moaned as she tried to push herself closer to him.

"Baby, I love hearing you beg." He said as he entered her starting slow at first.

"Pete, faster please."

Pete grunted before speeding up, loving the feeling of her needing him, He began to thrust harder as he sped up. Lauren wrapped his leg up around his waist to give him better access.

"Oh God Pete, I'm so close." Lauren said as she scratched her nails down his back.

"Let go for me love." He rasped into her ear.

Lauren grabbed onto Pete's face to pull him into a passionate kiss as she came. Pete finished shortly after her before collapsing next to her. Their session was relatively quick, but emotional and intense. They laid next to each other trying to catch their breath.

"Well, that was unexpected." Pete stated.

"Yeah, definitely didn't think that was gonna happen when I woke up this morning." Lauren agreed as she laid next to him.

"I'm sorry it wasn't really what ya wanted." Pete apologize.

"What do you mean?"

"Ya said you wanted aggressive, and ripping clothes off, and all that."

Lauren leaned up on her elbow and turned to face him. "That's one of the things I've thought about, but I really just wanted you Pete."

He responded by lightly placing his hand on her head and pulling it down to rest on his chest. Lauren laid there cuddling on Pete, which is something she never would have expected from him, and soon found herself falling asleep.

Around three in the morning Lauren jerked awake. She didn't mean to fall asleep. She didn't even realize she was that worn out. Or maybe just comfortable. The room was now all dark, Pete must have turned the lights out. She couldn't see anything but she felt over to the other side of the bed and it was empty. Of course it was. He came for what she said she'd give him and then left. He wasn't looking for anything beyond that. Lauren knew that when she offered him to come to her too, but she didn't think it would hurt that much when he was gone. She laid back down in her beg and pulled the covers up feeling pretty stupid. Just then she heard the toilet in her bathroom flush and the door open. Pete walked out of the bathroom and back over to the bed.

"Pete?" Lauren asked.

"Hm." He replied.

"I thought you left."

"Why tha hell would I do that?" He asked as he pulled up the covers and got back into bed next to her.

"You were gone. I thought you got what you wanted and left. Especially after I fell asleep on you."

"I believe you're tha one that wanted this love." He reminded her. "You’re the one that offered."

"Well, yeah…"

Pete wrapped his arm around her waist and held her hand, lacing his fingers in with hers. He nuzzled his nose into the back of her neck.

"I'm pretty glad you did though." He admitted. This was the most love he had felt in a long time. He really felt like the person he was with wanted him, needed him. That she was focused on him, and it made him want to be focused on her. He felt an actual connection, which is something that he had been missing.

"I'm not goin anywhere for awhile love." He said as he squeezed her into hug, pulling her body to his. "I loved those sounds I heard earlier. They drove me crazy. I look forward ta havin' ya make more."

Lauren giggled as Pete kissed the back of her neck. Neither knew what the future would hold, but right now they were both enjoying the moment.

#pete dunne #pete dunne one shot #pete dunne fanfic #pete dunne imagine #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #mustache mountain

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my-own-oracle · 4 years ago

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Sparring

🥊This was a request: TFP megaton with a crush (soon to be SO) who was a champion in the gladiatorial arena. Maybe a confession and sparring?

🥊Megatron stood among the upcoming competitors watching the current match. The two newcomers were fighting for a spot in the end tournament. Joltsteal, the bigger of the two, was the favorite to win. His superior size, along with his two swords, made him quite the fearsome opponent. The other was the smaller yet no less fierce (Y/N), an old friend Megatron had known from his time in the mines. While this femme was of smaller stature, she was still quite strong, and even more importantly, she was intelligent. She had used her superior agility and the fact her opponents consisted of idiots to get far in the arena's challenges. Consistently toppling opponents bigger than most believed she could.

Megatron had met her in the minds, working long hours by her side. She had captured his attention, her wits and bright ideas, her spark and determination. He grew to care for the femme that seemed too small for the mines, too bright to be shut away in the caverns, and strong enough to prevent the people she cared for to come to harm. Even after he had escaped, fleeing to the pits and rising above the horrible conditions he had been born into, he thought of (Y/N). And once he had made a name for himself, he went back.

Megatron had told her she could get far in the pits, he was glad she had taken his advice and gotten out of those mining death traps. The gladiator watched as (Y/N) clashes her weapon against the brute of an opponent who kept swinging his swords around like a moron. He had gotten in only a few hits, leaving only a dent to two before he was pinned. (Y/N) standing atop his chassis, her blade near his spark chamber. The stands erupted, with Mechs and Femmes cheering. None cheering louder then Megatron himself.

Orion had convinced him to go find you after the tournament had ended. His best friend picked up on Megatron's small infatuation with his friend from the mines.

"go talk to her Megatronus," the archives had insisted. "Perhaps you can help her prepare for the upcoming events? Or perhaps she could question you on the volume at which you spark hums when you're around her." Megatron had given Orion the best glare he could before walking off to the underbelly of the pits.

He found you in the sparing chambers of the pits clicks later, You admiring your new dents.

"How does it feel to have made it to the big times, little one?" You glared at the grey and silver mech. The playfulness of the glare shining threw in your optics.

"Probably just as good as when you won your first fight, old mech." He found himself letting out a hardy laugh.

"Tomorrow you join us in the real tournament, are you ready?" Megatron walked over to the weapon stand picking up a practice sword. Twirling it about in his servos.

"I'm ready, and I'll win it too." Megatron loves hearing your confidence. The rebellious nature that got you in trouble in the mines was just the thing you needed fighting in the pits. And the thing that had endeared you to him in the first place. He watched as you shadow boxed your frame, jumping around the room.

"Don't get to far ahead of your self (Y/N), you forget I'll be out there too." The smile that crossed your faceplate should have been illegal

"Oh, Megatron, I haven't forgotten." You stood in a stance before him. "I just know I can beat you," his optic ridge raised itself,

"Oh, really?" He lowered himself into a fighting stance as well. Dropping the practice sword to the floor, "Care to prove yourself worthy of being my opponent?" The gleam in your optics leads him to lunge. Quickly you maneuvered out of his way rolling behind him. He knew your tactics. You would try to use your weight and momentum to throw his frame forward. It was the same tactic you had used in your first no weapons match.

"Be careful not to use the same move too much." Megatron dropped to the ground quickly, he watched as your frame soured over his before jumping back into his stance. "Your opponent will begin to expect it, then you are at a disadvantage." You tried a different variation of the same tactic trying to come at him on his right side. He quickly moved out of the way. The dance continued leading the mech to smile and begin to laugh. He heard you let out what sounded like a frustrated growl before you charged directly at him. 'At least it was something he hadn't been expecting,' he thought momentarily. You slammed your frame at a lower point on his. Trying to unbalance the mech who towered over you. He chuckled, bending over you, he grasped his arms around your middle and tossed you towards the edge of the sparring ring. Evidently, he had used more strength on you, then he had meant. Sending you tumbling rather than landing not so far away. He heard your frame scrape against the ground, your helm hitting the wall with a loud clang.

His spark felt cold all of a sudden, he had taken this spar to far. Instead of helping prepare you for your next few fights, he has sent you flying.

"(Y/N), my apologies-" He didn't know what to say. Quickly he went to your side, helping you up.

"Yeah, maybe I'm not as ready as I thought." You rubbed your helm slowly sitting up. He held out a servo, you gladly took the help getting to your pedes. You stood, servo still in Megatron's, his other servo coming up subconsciously to check your helm for dents and scrapes.

"Are you injured?"

"No, I'm alright."

"Good," he brought your servo to his dermas, a romantic gesture, especially for bots in the lower working class. You smiled, placing your free hand over his spark, feeling the hum that coursed through him.

"If I am intruding, I can return." you both turned to see Orion Pax standing at the entrance. "But Megatronus, we have been given permission to speak with the council. We should go as soon as possible." The mech smiled uncomfortably before turning to leave.

"Go- I'll see you after." And with a quick smile, Megatron turned to follow his old friend out. Today would mark a new era for him, he decided, an era in which you were by his side.

#megatron x reader #transformers megatron #cybertronian reader #tf megatron #transformers prime #megatron tfp #tfp optimus prime #tfp orion pax

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toplinetommy · 4 years ago

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You Bring the Moon and Stars to Me (Part Five) - Tyson Jost

Synopsis: A Soulmate!AU where your soulmark only appears once you fall in love with your soulmate

Words: 7.3k

Warnings: mentions of injury

a/n: type of injury is purely speculation since the details were never released, also his injury happened at an away game but for the sake of the story let’s pretend it was a home game. im thinking there will be 3 more parts but dont quote me on that and ofc feedback is always welcome, i hope you enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

January 2019 - Loveland, CO

It was like the second you had Tyson back, he was gone again. The day they got back from their Eastern Canada road trip, he was on his way to Loveland to start working with the Eagles. He hadn’t been able to spend much time with you, his schedule being just as hectic as always. Especially with the additions of the extra workouts Tyson had started to partake in. You rarely saw his car in the driveway of the Rookie House when you were over at Caitlyn and Jack’s.

His hair had been extra messy the last night you saw him the day he went back down to Loveland for the first time this season. You assumed it was due to his hands continuously pulling at it from being stuck in his head about his new playing situation. Since then, the image of your best friend being down in the dumps hadn’t left your mind. Throughout the time of knowing Tyson, you only really knew him as the cheery guy with a smile on his face 24/7. He was the most strong-willed person you had ever known.

A week and a half later and he still hadn’t seen any NHL ice time, still working his ass off at the AHL level to earn his roster spot back. You’re sitting in one of the many conference rooms at your office, listening to an executive give their monthly project updates when your phone rings. You see Tyson’s face covering your screen, begging to answer his FaceTime. You hit the lock button on your phone, stopping the vibrations, and turn your phone over, turning your attention back to the presentation in front of you.

The vibration stops momentarily before it starts again, to which you ignore. The third time your phone rings, you know it must be important, so you excuse yourself as you push out of your rolling chair and leave the room.

As you slide to answer, Tyson’s face pops up onto the screen. His hair is wet and the lighting is terrible, so you assume he had just showered at the practice facility.

“What did you need? I was in a meeting.”

“Sorry, I’ll be quick. I know I was supposed to come over to your place later for my pre-game meal but I’m really tired,” He whines.

“And you couldn’t have just texted me that?” You ask a sharp bite to your tone. He knew you worked the third Saturday of every month. He had even admitted to you one time that he’d check your Snapchat location to see where you were when you weren’t answering, so you were even more confused when he called not once, but three times.

“I need a favor, I’m gonna take a nap on one of the guy’s couches. Can you bring me my game-day suit?”

“Sure, just text me the time you need it by and the address,” You agree. “I really need to go, though, so I’ll text you later.”

“Thank you, Y/n! Love you.”

You spit out a quick ‘love you’ before hanging up and shoving your phone into your dress pants pocket before walking back into the meeting and apologizing about the disruption.

You park your car in Caitlyn’s driveway before making a bee-line across the street towards the Rookie House. You lift your hand to knock on the door before you remember Tyson telling you that no one was home and you needed to find the spare key. You jog down the stairs to his bedroom in search of his game-day suit.

You look on his bed, which is a mess and un-made, causing you to roll your eyes, not seeing the suit he said he had laid out this morning when he left for practice. You move to his closet, hoping to see a suit in the front that had been previously picked out, but still no luck.

Instead of shooting him a text or calling him to ask where it is, you let your hands slowly pass over the multiple blazers he has hanging up. Your hand lands on a navy blue blazer with slightly exaggerated lapels, being unfamiliar with it you pull it out. Granted, you rarely say Tyson in suits, and even when you did you always noticed his love for different shades of grey. You smile to yourself as you pull it out and lay it over the bed smoothly before going back to his closet to find a dress-shirt to match.

A few minutes later you have a white-shirt with small polka dots on it picked out with his navy suit. Alongside that, you picked out his brown belt and grabbed his brown dress shoes, and started looking for a pair of socks. You pull open all of his drawers, finally finding the one that holds his socks and you end grabbing a pair of simple grey ones.

You set the suit and shoes in the back seat of your car once your back at Caitlyn’s before she’s walking out in a Colorado crewneck and jumping into your passenger seat.

“Can you look for a place we can get dinner after I drop this off to Tyson?” You ask of her as she buckled her seatbelt and you back out of her driveway. The two of you make banter and eventually find a wing place to eat as you drive down the highway to Loveland.

Once you arrive at the apartment Tyson had texted you the address of, you’re climbing up the stairs to the front door, suit, and shoes in hand, before rapping at the door. You kind of knew you were cutting it close with his suit delivery, so you were anxiously tapping your foot as you waited for the door to swing open.

Tyson opens the door a tired look on his face as he’s taking a bite of what you see is a home-made sandwich. “You’re a lifesaver.” He groans, stepping to the side to let you in.

“It’s not a problem,” You assure, folding over the suit over the tops of your arms. “Here’s your suit.”

“Where’s the one I had laid out?” He asked confused as he reaches for your outstretched arms to take his clothes from you. You knit your eyebrows in confusion as you think back to how you didn’t see a suit set out anywhere in his room.

“There was no suit laid out in your room, which is a mess by the way,” You point out quickly. “So I just picked one out from your closet, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” Tyson smiles, rubbing his thumbs over the lapel of the blazer. The image of you browsing through his closet popped into his mind, a rather domestic image that caused his smile to grow wider. The thought of you doing that without being asked to caused butterflies to slight erupt in his stomach and his cheek started to heat up with the thoughts racing through his mind.

“I think you need some new socks, all of them were so boring.” Tyson laughs at your statement. “Get some striped ones or ones with polka dots, I don’t know, just not plain grey and black ones.”

He nods his heads stifling a laugh at your odd request before the owner of the apartment appears from a hallway in his suit. Tyson quickly introduces the two of you before he’s pushing you out the door so he can get dressed and head to the game. As you turn your body to head back to your car, Tyson stops you.

“I have exciting news before you go.”

“Yeah?”

“This is my last game,” He beams, his eyes squinting from how wide his smile is. “I’m playing against Vancouver after the all-star break in a few days.”

You shriek at the news your best friend is sharing with you, “Oh my God! That’s amazing!” You open your arms welcoming Tyson in a congratulatory hug. “Told you you were a superstar,” you whisper as you pull away. The two of you share a soft look before you finally let go of your friend saying you’ll see him later.

You and Caitlyn are sitting in the lower bowl of the Budweiser Event Center, enjoying your beers and each other’s company while also focusing on the two teams in front of you. The both of you had agreed how nice it was to be back at a hockey game, both of you not being able to attend any in a little over a month with how busy you were. It was especially nice seeing Tyson play, you could see the jump in his body as he floated around the ice seamlessly.

It’s late in the game when it happens. Tyson’s skating down the far half-wall about to cross the blue line to enter the zone with the puck when an opposing player plows through his lonesome figure, sending him into the wall with a very loud thud. You gasp, leaning forward in your seat and reaching out for Caitlyn’s hand. You watch him as he stands up, grateful for the fact that he’s even able to do that quickly given the harshness of the hit, but watch him as he skates away back to the bench slowly.

He immediately walks down the tunnel to the locker rooms and you lean in your seat further, bringing your free hand to your face to bite on your cuticles out of nervousness. Caitlyn squeezing your hand combined with the loud voice over the arena speakers announcing the penalties brings you back down to earth. Your fingers stay at your lips for a moment longer until the sudden urge to scratch at your elbow envelops your mind.

“Hey, he’s probably fine and just got the wind knocked out of him.” Caitlyn reasons. You both know she has no idea what she’s talking about, but the thought behind it is welcomed. The remainder of the game feels like a lifetime as you anxiously check your phone for texts from Tyson, tweets from the team, anything that may give you insight on what’s happened.

At the same time as the final buzzer sounding throughout the arena, your phone vibrates in your hand where you’re holding it tightly. A text from Tyson pops up.

Tyson: im okay

Tyson: sorry it took so long to text you i was going through concussion protocol

Y/N: so you’re fine?!

Tyson: no

Tyson: i have a concussion

You groan at the response, showing Caitlyn your conversation before typing out a response saying you’ll meet him by the locker room shortly.

Tyson emerges from the locker room, holding an ice pack to his left shoulder. Upon seeing the ice pack, your shoulders drop out of sympathy for him and you feel a pang in your chest. As he approaches you, head down to avoid the bright, white, LED lights in the hallway, you let out a low ‘Tyson’.

“Hey.”

“You said you just got a concussion,” you point to the icepack on his shoulder.

“It just hurts.” He winces, eyebrows knitting in pain. You give him a side-hug, careful to not aggravate his shoulder.

“I, uh, I’m going to need a ride back to Denver,” Tyson starts. “I can’t drive.”

You rub his good shoulder, trying to comfort him as you look back towards Caitlyn. “Can you drive my car home and I’ll drive his car home? You can just park it at your house.”

Caitlyn agrees, the three of you walking out to the parking garage making small talk before you go your separate ways. The hour-long drive is spent in quiet, Tyson leaning his head against the window with his eyes closed for the most of it. He only lifts his head when he feels the car drive over the junction between the black asphalt of the street and the concrete of his driveway.

The two of you walk into his home, him instantly making way down the stairs to his bedroom while you opt to go to the kitchen to get the both of you glasses of water. Another few moments pass before you decide to venture down to his room.

He’s in the dark, only his bathroom light illuminating his vast bedroom. He’s laying on his back in the middle of the bed, his legs dangling off the edge. He groans a little at the noise of your feet padding along the hardwood before sitting up and leaning back on his hands.

“You feeling okay?” You ask, moving to sit down next to him and hand him the other glass of water.

“I’m fine,” He mumbles and you know he’s just processing the injury and everything going on with his career so you stay quiet, letting him be the one to decide when to speak. Instead, you too lean back on your hands, resting yours right next to Tyson’s, pinkies touching. His hand flinches at the touch but he doesn’t move away.

“I just can’t catch a break it seems,” He breathes out barely above a whisper. He lays back onto the bed, falling into the fluffy comforter and rubs his face with hands.

“Tys,” you drag out. You twist your body around, tucking your legs underneath you on the bed to face him. There’s a pull in your body that wants you to reach out and move his hands from his face or even put a reassuring hand on his thigh but something in you stops you. “Things like this happen to everyone, you just have to get healthy and play just like you were when you got the call saying you were going back to the Avs.”

“But if I would’ve just been skating with my head up I could’ve avoided the hit.”

“That guy absolutely blew into you, I don’t think much would’ve stopped him from doing that. It was a dirty hit and he knows it.”

Tyson mumbles out an ‘I guess’ before sitting up abruptly with a groan. “You want ice cream? I want ice cream.” He decides, standing up and reaching out for you. You grab his hand, standing up from his couch and following him up the stairs to the kitchen.

“I didn’t think you health nuts even knew what ice cream was.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. Throughout the whole time you knew Tyson and his roommates, the most unhealthy thing you had seen them eat were chocolate almond butter cups and those were from Whole Foods so it barely counted as junk food in your eyes. Tyson pulls out a pint of ice cream and you look to inspect it, noting the words ‘dairy-free’ on it.

You roll your eyes, “I take that back because of course you have the ice cream that’s considered healthy.”

Tyson laughs at you as he grabs two spoons from the drawer across the kitchen from you. He smiles instead of responding right away, and your face mirrors him, a large smile now playing at your lips.

He places the two spoons on the island next to the pint, going to the edge of the kitchen and turning the light off so the only light in the kitchen is the light from the entryway and the light on off the back door creeping through the large kitchen windows. Tyson takes a seat next to you on the barstool opening the ice cream and digging his spoon in.

The two of you eat the first few bites in silence before Tyson sticks his spoon into the pint one last time. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course, I do have one request though.” You start, Tyson raising his eyebrows in curiosity. “Can I help pick out your suits more often? That was fun.”

“That just means me bugging you more about my colorblindness, ya know.” He jokes. “But, I’ll take it.”

“I think you need to incorporate more prints into your closet, all of your suits are so plain.”

“I have two striped ones, what are you talking about?” He asks incredulously with a laugh.

You put your spoon in your mouth, eating the bit of soupy ice cream that’s still left. As you chew you mentally go through his closet. “Yeah, but you need some plaids and checks.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You laugh at his inability to stray away from solids, even though you’ve seen him in some crazy printed t-shirts before. You dig your spoon in the ice cream for one more bite before clasping the lid back on. Tyson moves to put it back in the freezer, but you stop him and do it yourself, also placing the two spoons in the dishwasher.

“So, what’s next?” You ask, talking about the next steps of his concussion injury and training.

Tyson leans back in his chair, running one of his hands through the hair on the back of his head. “Pretty much just rest until it goes away, then play some more in Loveland, then hopefully get the call to come back to Denver full-time.”

You watch him as he speaks from across the kitchen, focused on the softness and uncertainty in his voice. He was not only in physical pain from the hit a few hours prior, but also clearly mentally beating himself up. Tyson was one of the hardest workers you had ever met. He was someone that went to practice early and stayed late if it meant more ice-time and reps, someone that put in those extra miles on his morning runs, someone that watched and studied game-tape until his eyes were strained from the blue light of the screen. Knowing how hard he worked day in and day out only made your heart ache more at the circumstances the brunette found himself in.

You walk quietly over back to Tyson, standing next to him where he’s sitting. He turns around to gaze up at your face before you begin speaking.

“You’re the hardest worker I know, I believe in you.”

Tyson, in a moment of both vulnerability and bravery, lens his head forward and rests his head on your chest. You’re surprised by his actions and your movements are stuttered before you wrap your arms around his neck and run a hand through his curls. He lets out a hum, his eyes fluttering shut at the newfound comfort you’re giving him.

The two of you stand for a few more moments, reveling in the contact and the quietness surround you due to the late night and emptiness of the home. Your eyes glance to the clock, noting how late it’s gotten. You want to pull away to tell him you should head home soon, your breathing starting to slow due to being tired. Your early work morning combined with the whirlwind events that happened over the past two hours pushed your mind to the point of exhaustion.

However, you don’t move away, knowing this is what your best friend needs most right now. The feeling of comfort and being with someone that knew him as deeply as you did being something he desperately needed. An itch on your elbow pulls you out of your thoughts and Tyson whines when you slightly pull away to scratch at it, to which you chuckle.

“I had an itch,” You pause, leaning back away from Tyson so he has to sit up straight. “And besides, it’s starting to get late. I should head home soon.”

Tyson doesn’t whine again but slouches his shoulders and puffs out his lower lip, giving you a puppy dog look that you haven’t seen much when he’s sober. “Please stay.”

The request surprises you. Sure, the two of you are insanely close, but the two of you never really had sleepovers due to your schedules and only ever stayed over on drunken nights when it was an easy decision to make. Come to think of it, the last time you guys even slept in the same house was before you dated Aiden, when you shared a hotel room at the Landeskog wedding.

You contemplate the thought, being one that usually didn’t mind driving home at the late hours of the night. His eyes were puffy, a sure sign from how tired he’s been lately, the scrape underneath it from his visor bright red, and his overall aura was screaming please, so you give in. “I need sweatpants then.” you motion to the jeans adorning your legs and he jumps up.

“You got it.”

You follow him down the stairs back to his bedroom and watch him move around his room, cleaning up some of the mess and tossing you a pair of sweats.

Once you reemerge from the ensuite bathroom, you see Tyson laying down in bed, covers up to his armpits. He turns his head towards you then pats the emptiness beside him, gesturing for you to lay down. He’s got this dopey look on your face that melts your heart and you smile, holding your jeans to your chest tightly.

“I can sleep on the couch, it really isn’t a big deal.”

“It isn’t but why sleep on the couch when there’s a perfectly comfy spot for you in a bed?” He jokes. You can barely see his facial features now that you’ve turned the bathroom light off and you flip the flashlight on on your phone, being careful not to shine it towards his face. You smile nervously as you set your jeans down by your shoes at the foot of the bed and carefully climb into bed next to him.

“Maybe leave a little room for a girl, jeez,” You comment, trying to maneuver around Tyson’s sprawled out body. You miss the way he rolls his eyes as he dramatically pulls his body into a plank-like position. You set your phone down on the dresser next to you before getting comfortable despite the anxiety you’re starting to feel. Your stomach shouldn’t be in knots right now, should it?

“I know I said it before, but I really appreciate you coming tonight.” Tyson starts, sighing out a large breath of air. He’s twiddling his fingers in front of him, occasionally bringing them to his lips to bite on his hangnails. “It means a lot having someone by my side through all of this. It can be hard talking to Kerfy and JT sometimes.”

You turn your body to face him, still leaving a substantial amount of space between the two of you in the expanse of his king-sized bed. “That’s what best friends are for, Tys. Don’t ever hesitate to talk to me. It can be about anything, hockey, family, music, whatever you want and I’ll listen. Just know that you can talk to JT and Alexander too, they’ve been in your shoes being in the AHL and they just want to see you back with them just as much as the rest of us. Well, maybe not more than your family and me. We’re your biggest fans.”

“Biggest fans, eh?” he quirks an eyebrow up.

“Yeah, didn’t you know? We’re all in a group chat and it’s called Tyson Jost’s Fan Club. We just send pictures of you back and forth.” You joke, causing a loud, boisterous laugh to escape from Tyson’s mouth.

“You’ve never even talked to any of them besides my Grandpa, shut up.” He lets out once he’s calmed down from laughing, a loud yawn following.

“We should go to sleep, it’s been an exhausting day for both of us.”

“But I’ve missed talking to you.” He admits. And honestly, the statement has you thinking. This probably is the most time the two of you have spent alone together in months, so you give in and talk with him about anything and everything until he suddenly stops responding and you see his mouth droop open with heavy breaths of air coming out.

Sleep didn’t find you as easily, though, as you gazed at your best friend across the bed, thoughts consumed your brain. The two of you had nowhere near a physically affectionate friendship and all of the small touches and long gazes that happened throughout the day have a smile forming on your lips as you continue to look at the brunette in front of you. Yeah, the two of you laid soft touches on the other but it was usually when you had alcohol in your system or when you were especially tired. The look he gave you in the kitchen moments prior is what stuck with you as you drifted off to sleep.

The next few days for Tyson were spent just like that night. You would go over there after work and stay until you headed home later that night. As the days passed those late-night drives were spent with more and more yawns but it was worth it if it meant seeing Tyson and keeping him company.

That was until today. You had gotten behind on your project at work from being at Tyson’s so much recently so you had told him last night when you left his house that you’d see him in a few days. As your phone rang during your lunch break with Tyson’s face filling the screen, you should’ve known what he was about to say was coming.

“Please come over later, I’m going insane being by myself. The guys don’t get back from the all-star break until Friday and I can’t look at any screen or sleep because of my concussion so I need you to entertain me.” Tyson rushes out.

“Aren’t you supposed to see the team doctors today?” You ask confusedly. It was barely 1:30 in the afternoon so you thought he would be at the training facility still.

“I already did, I still have a concussion,” Tyson confirms. “I just have to go back every other day to get checked. They said it’s looking better and it’s less serious than they thought which is good.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” you nod. You really do want to see him later, getting used to seeing him every day for the past few days. Part of you knows that one day won’t hurt either of you and that you know you’ll just be at his place tomorrow, but something in your mind is telling you to go over there after work. “If I come over later, I’m bringing my laptop, I need to get some stuff done to prepare for a meeting I have on Thursday.”

“That’s fine, I’ll order us food even, as a thank you.”

You want to argue with him, not wanting him to spend his money on you but the two of you have had that conversation a hundred different times all ending with the same result. You usually said you made ‘big girl’ money and were proud of it to which he said he was proud too, but he also made ‘big boy’ money and had enough leftover to comfortably spend it on his closest friends.

“Sounds perfect,” You smile. “My lunch break is about to end, so I have to go but I’ll text you when I leave later.”

Tyson says goodbye and the rest of your workday flies by and next thing you know, you’re pulling your car into Tyson’s driveway. You see the garage open so you walk thought it, closing it as you enter the door inside. Once your dinner is consumed the two of you migrate to the living room couch where you pull your laptop on your lap to start working on your meeting notes.

“What’re you doing?” Tyson inquires, leaning towards you to get a better look at your screen.

“I have a meeting to kick-off a project later this week so I’m just making sure I have all of my notes done.” You explain, typing away at the keyboard. “It’s a bigger one, so there are a lot more steps and handoffs and stuff you might not understand.”

“No, tell me, I wanna know.” He urges, scootching his body closer to yours so your thighs touch. As he stops moving, you think of how easy it would to just fall into him and rest your head against the broadness of his chest. You focus more on the screen in front of you, dimming the brightness so it doesn’t hurt Tyson’s eyes and explain it to him. Before long, his head plops onto your shoulder, snores escaping his slightly ajar mouth. You gaze at him, noticing the cut that was once bright red on his cheekbone is now just a scratch and you reach out to run your finger over it. He stirs at the touch, and you freeze out of panic before focusing back on your laptop and continuing to work.

The stillness around you makes your eyes start to droop and you slowly start to slouch more and more on the couch before resting your head atop Tyson’s and joining him in sleep.

Your phone ringing on full-volume next to you pulls you from your sleep. You see Caitlyn’s name as you grab it and slide to answer the phone.

“Are you still at Tyson’s? I was closing my garage and saw your car across the street.” She asked in way of a greeting.

“Uh, yeah, we fell asleep.” You say, voice groggy and laced with sleep. You open your eyes more, looking to Tyson’s still sleeping figure and noticing the movement the two of you have made. His head isn’t on your shoulder anymore, as it fell in his sleep to use your chest as a cushion. His hand that’s closer to you is draped across your thigh the other outstretched along the couch. “What time is it?”

“Almost 10:30. Wait, what do you mean we? Like, you and Tyson sleeping together?” She asks, almost in a shriek-like voice. Your body jumps awake at the notification of how late it’s gotten, Tyson sliding off your body from the movement.

“I was working and he fell asleep next, well on me, and then I fell asleep. Shit, I didn’t think I’d fall asleep for this long.” You curse. Tyson stirs next to you, slowing opening his eyes and groaning at the disruption in sleep. “I gotta go though, I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

“Who was that?”

“Caitlyn, she was confused since she saw that my car was still here.” You respond, sitting further up and moving your laptop to the coffee table in front of you. Tyson looks at his phone checking the time before letting a ‘holy shit’ seeing that it’s also pitch black outside.

“I’m gonna head out soon, I think.”

“You can stay, ya know.”

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t have any of my work stuff for tomorrow and I don’t want to have to rush around in the morning.” You explain, rubbing your hands along your thighs. You lean forward, pushing a hand through your hair to fix the mess that was caused from your nap and stand up. He sits up further on the couch before joining you in standing, a loud sigh coming from his mouth.

“I’ll still see you tomorrow though, eh?” He checks.

“Yes, I just have to make sure my work is all done since I clearly didn’t get much done here.” You laugh. He follows you to the front door of his house, unlocking and opening it for you. Once your coat is slipped on you open your arms to hug him, “Such a gentleman.”

“For you? Always” He jokes cheekily. You smile at the comment before pulling back, but Tyson doesn’t let go of you so easily. You look up at him, then back to your feet, then back up to Tyson once more.

“Okay, I really gotta go,” You yawn.

Instead of letting you go, Tyson moves one of his hands from around your shoulders to the back of your head and pulling you into him. His lips land on the curve of your forehead before he whispers out a bye. You smile and close your eyes in content at the gesture, before you walk down the sidewalk to your car, turning once to wave to your best friend. The smile didn’t leave your face the entire drive home, and you honestly probably fell asleep with the same glee-filled smile plastered onto your face thinking of the new addition of the physicality of your friendship and how you could really get used it.

February 2019 - Denver, CO

“Do you want to go get lunch together? I haven’t eaten out for lunch in so long.” Caitlyn asks, barging through your office door. You peer up at your friend, abandoning the email you’re working on in front of you.

“I actually have lunch plans with Tyson, we’re getting poke.” A slight frown playing at your lips, as you decline her offer. “What about margs sometime this week? It can be a girl’s night.”

She smiles at your suggestion nodding her head, “That sounds perfect! Do you want to go out for them or stay in?”

“Hmm,” you hum. “Let’s go out tomorrow? Taco Tuesday at Aztecas?”

“Ooo, yes! Meet there at 7?” She asks, moving further into your office and sitting in the chair on the opposite side of your desk. you nod your head in agreement, turning your focus into the computer screen in front of you again. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him haven’t you?”

“Who?” You ask, directing your attention back to her from where you started typing at your computer again.

“Tyson.”

“Oh, yeah.” You say, quickly typing out the details of your email so you can focus on your coworker in front of you. “I guess we kinda have. When he got his concussion two weeks ago I was one of the few people that were in town with the timing of it all and stuff.”

“Every time I looked out my window, your car was in his driveway.” She notes, eyebrow quirked.

“I would just go there, like, right after work and then I’d leave when I wanted to go to bed. We would just get food and hang out, just like we used to.”

“You mean like back before you had a boyfriend?” She asks. “Like last season when you guys were always getting dinner together or like all summer when he was constantly calling you?”

As Caitlyn concludes her questions, you lean back in your office chair thinking back on the past few months. You hadn’t really paid attention to your new habits with Tyson, but you were spending way more time with him than usual, but you just thought it was the extra free time the both of you have had lately. When you were with Aiden you only saw Tyson maybe once a week and most times it was in a group setting.

“I guess, yeah.” You smile. You had thoroughly been enjoying all the time you spent with him lately, all the laughter and banter was welcomed and the two of you knew exactly what to do to annoy the other one without ever crossing a line. “Do you think we were touchy before, me and Tys?”

Caitlyn crosses one leg over the other, “I don’t think so? Like you guys were just always with one another when we were in groups. When you were drunk, though? That’s another story.”

With Caitlyn answering the question the way she did, you knew you had to address the newfound physicality and affection between you and Tyson. Before you can get into more detail on why you chose to bring that up Caitlyn asks you,

“Have you guys been more touchy lately?”

“We take naps together now, which is like, kind of a lot in a way? I don’t know,” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath as you try to gather your words to describe the feeling. “You know me, I don’t take naps but it’s like, we’ll be watching tv or something and he’ll just fall asleep and it’s not like he’s on the other side of the couch, Caitlyn. He’s right next to me and then he’s asleep with half his body weight on me and the feeling like, lulls me to sleep and we’ll wake up in the same position and not talk about it.”

Caitlyn watches you as you avoid her gaze as you talk, unsure of what she’s going to say about the new information. Especially when she was the one friend you had that really made you dig deeper as to why you felt certain things. The two of you hadn’t spent much time together outside of work lately, with her and Jack living together and you spending so much time with Tyson after his concussion.

“I also spent the night when he got hurt, like, as in I spent the night in his bed.”

“What?” She exclaims, jumping forward to the edge of her seat. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Nothing happened,” You assure with a chuckle. “We fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed and woke up that way.” You think back to that night and how when you woke up, you would’ve assumed the two of you would’ve moved positions throughout the night, but you somehow didn’t and woke up face away from him, back inches away from his.

“How do you feel about those changes in your guys’ friendship?”

“I think I like it. Part of me kinda thinks I just like the extra attention I’m getting, but the other part just thinks that’s just how we are now, ya know?”

“I see what you mean about the just liking the extra attention part, but I think it’s just how you guys are. Even if the two of you weren’t being physically affectionate through your friendship, the two of you were still affectionate in other ways.”

What she says makes sense, as you think about all the small quirks your friendship consisted of. He was always getting you refills at parties and the bar, offering to be the one that drove, grocery shopping together, while you helped make sure he kept his room clean and urged to him to let loose with you every once in a while. He kept you young while you grounded him.

“All I know is that I haven’t even realized how much time I’ve been spending with him lately, which I’m really grateful for.” You smile softly. “He’s actually gonna be playing again in a few days I think.”

The two of you continue talking about Tyson being able to return to the team and solidify your plans for tacos and margs tomorrow before she’s bouncing out of your office.

A few days later, Tyson was thankfully cleared to play again. Spending the first few days back in Loveland before getting the call to return to Denver. A call you hoped, primarily for Tyson’s sake, that was a more-permanent decision the coaching staff had made. You hadn’t seen him much in those few days, letting him get acclimated to the pace of the NHL once again.

The three of you settle into your seats, feeling at ease from being back at the Pepsi Center for the first time since Tyson’s call-up. This time, however, you didn’t complain when Tyson offered to get the three of you tickets. You all hadn’t been able to go to any of the other games since Tyson’s call-up due to work events, Valentine’s Day, and your mom’s birthday, but as Tyson said the date didn’t matter as long as you’d come to one sooner rather than later.

It happens fast, you look from Caitlyn next to you to the ice in front of you due to an increase in cheering and you watch as Tyson catches as a pass on the edge of his blade before slapping a one-timer at the goal from the slot, goal horn sounding as the puck passes the goal line. You jump, arms thrusting in the air and loudly cheering ‘that’s my fucking best friend’ into the expanse of the crowd.

The next two periods flew by, Varlamov getting the shutout while Calvert and Agozzino added to the scoresheet. You all head out, walking towards the parking garage down the street you parked out as you send a great goal text to Tyson and telling him to call you when he gets a chance.

An hour later, when you’re back in you’re apartment getting your stuff ready for your workday tomorrow, your phone finally rings, notifying you of an incoming call from Tyson. When the facetime call connects, you see him, a wide-smile and wet curly hair all over the place.

“Hey! Great game!” You exclaim, the happiness behind your words coming though with the wide smile that’s filling your face.

“Thank you! I’m glad you guys were able to catch this game.” He smiles. His phone is shaking from him walking around his house, as you watch the background change from his kitchen to the stairwell to his bedroom before he’s plopping down onto his bed. “It was so good to score, y/n, I want to bottle that feeling.”

His eyes twinkle in the dim lighting of his room as he speaks, the sight of it making you feel more than elated for your best friend. “I’m really proud of you, I know I tell you that a lot, but you deserve feeling that way all the time, Tys.” You say softly, voice laced with sincerity.

“I just have to continue to play the way I did tonight, and then there’ll be no doubt I’m supposed to on the roster. I know my roster spot isn’t a given any night and it never will be, but I want everyone to be confident in the decision to put me in the line-up every night.” He rambles. As he speaks you’re making your way to your bathroom, ready to start your nightly routine.

You set your phone against your mirror as you put your hair into a low bun before grabbing a washcloth to wash your face. He starts talking your ears off about how happy he is to be back with the guys and the team chemistry as you finish getting ready for bed. You miss the way he looks at you as you brush your teeth since you’re too focused on the movements of your actions, but what you don’t miss is the ding on your phone with a new text message.

Once you’re done spitting out your excess toothpaste and wiping your mouth, you grab your phone and head to your bed before looking at the message. “Tyson, what did you just send me we’re literally on the phone.” You laugh before fully opening the text and seeing the picture attached. It’s a screenshot from your call taken only a few minutes ago. Tyson’s dark smiling face in the top right corner while your face fills out the screen. At first glance, it looks like an accidental screenshot but with closer examination as well as Tyson’s muffled laughs on the line, you see the toothpaste dribbling down your chin and your eyebrows are knitted with determination.

You groan loudly as you swipe back to your FaceTime call, “Tyson, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You don’t know that, maybe I’ll just hang up and stop coming to your games” you stick your tongue out.

“No!” Tyson interrupts. “You have to at least come to my games, you’re my good luck charm now.” He pouts, mouth quivering from trying not to smile.

“Fine.” You huff, a smile cracking on your lips. The two of you talk for a little while longer, both in bed, eyes drooping and words slurred with sleep. You’re not sure when you fall asleep and you’re more unsure if you even hang up your call before you’re snoring.

You end up going to his next game two days later against Winnipeg, where he scored once again and recorded two assists. After that performance, he continued to insist that you were his lucky charm, to which you laughed and brushed off the comment.

tag list: @reavenedges-lies @oilers2997 (let me know if you wanted to be added!)

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #alex writes #nhl imagine #ybtmastm fic #hockey imagine #surprise!

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write-like-you-mean-it · 4 years ago

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Small Frames Leave Big Shadows: Haikyuu Coffee Shop AU

“We’re closing in ten,” called Carrie from the back. The shop had been slower than any other day this week. Carrie, my boss, had sent all the high school students home early while keeping me and another closer on. Her announcement was directed at the staff but it’s intended audience was the customers still littered around the coffee shop.

My eyes roll as I turn to make drinks for the few high school students staying later to finish a group project due tomorrow. “Eichi, you should know to do your work earlier. Coach Sugawara isn’t going to be lenient on you.” I pass the handmade drink to the taller high schooler. He’s been a regular since his 1st year in high school.

“I know, Miss,” he says. “He lectures me as much as my dad.” He smiles the same beaming, white grin that I see almost every day. “We’ll be out soon. We’re almost done studying. Who knew English was so difficult.”

“Good luck on your test tomorrow.” I called to the teen but he was too busy walking back to his friends. He sent a small wave my way while fixing the obnoxiously swoopy hair.

I go back to making the cold brews and lattes for the evening. Usually, I would be watching the clock for the official closing time; however, Carrie must’ve scared off the rest of the people as the building slowly became a ghost town.

My hands work towards cleaning the used cups and putting away any remaining coffee beans. I felt a large hand on my head as Carrie nugged through my hair. “I’ll let Sato be the official closer for tonight. You’ve been putting in a lot of hours.”

“Thank you,” I sigh. Even during less-than-busy days, my feet ache with blisters from all the walking and my knees grew tired. I finish up with the small amount of washing to turn and see my boss in her tall frame. She has on a puffy winter coat since the January winter was hitting hard this year. “I’ll lock up so that he doesn’t have to.”

“Good girl,” says my boss while placing the keys in my hand. I was the opener tomorrow so the keys would be returned within a few hours. “I’m going to head out.”

“See you tomorrow,” I say while going into the dining area to pick up any spare cups left by trash cans or tables. Once I’d gathered the few cups and returned back behind the bar, the time had finally hit for close.

Placing the mugs and cups into the sink, I washed each one delicately. “You really should lock the door before more people arrive,” said the other closer. He was a grumpy, middle-aged man whose love for coffee outweighed his dislike for people.

I nod my head while grabbing my coat. Even though the door will only be open for a second, it still is freezing cold. I walk out into the brisk late night air. The sun set long ago and left the moon in its wake. My fingers fumble with the keys due to the bitter wind.

“Wait!” called a younger voice. My gaze turns to see a person running towards the door. He was not dressed for the weather outside. He wore a volleyball jersey and some sweatpants. His bright orange hair lit up the bland outside. I couldn’t help but watch as he finally caught up the door. “Did I make it in time?”

“Well, I was about to lock the door,” I mumble. The man was panting as if he had sprinted the full way from the stadium. He hobbled over while holding his knees as a support. After I spoke, his eyes turned up to meet mine. It was the same eyes that would always come in later in the day. Normally, I can tell who it is by the neon hair; however, a lot of people have taken to the trend of dying theirs to match their favorite player.

“Shit,” he shouted. “The game ran late. Astumu told me that I’d never make it on time. Please. I’ll pay you extra. I need this to do better in my games.” His fist was balled up in excitement as he stood tall, well, as tall as he could stand.

“You’re Hinata right?” I say. “The decoy I’ve been hearing so much about.” His wide eyes grew at the thought of someone else knowing his name.

“Yes!” he shouts. The addrenallen must’ve ran out due to the man shivering in the cold. My eyes flicker back and forth between the open door and the volleyball blocker.

“Fine,” I say while putting my keys into the door. “I’ll let you this one time but you have to take it to go. I wouldn’t want you freezing all this way to return empty handed.

As I walked back into the shop, I tried to not look at the glarning anger sent my way from my co-worker. “I promise I’ll be fast.” I don't know if the shorty’s comment was towards me or towards my counterpart. I took over the till as Sato went to mop the floors.

“Can I have a cappuccino to go with some hazelnut please?”

“Okay. What size?”

“The biggest size you have,” he says. All of his words were said with an excitement that left a full smile on my face even after a long day of work.

He hands me his card. I finish the transaction before quickly making his drink. Sato and Carrie would not be happy with the service I was providing. I was lucky that my coworker had yet to count the money in the til.

The smell of filter espresso permitted the room. “So, Hinata,” I say. “What made you run all this way for coffee? There is a shop a little closer to your arena.”

Hinata puts his hands together as if to warm the blue-tinted fingertips. “Oh. I have always come here since the games started. Bokuto says it's my ritual. The one time I went to the other coffee shop, we lost that game. All my teammates tell me that I have to come here or we’ll lose.”

My hands absentmindedly pour the espresso into the drink. “So we’re your good luck charm?”

“Actually, I thought you were.” My eyes shoot up from the cup in front of me. He continued, “You’re always here when I am. Either you work too many hours or you’re good luck. I tried going this morning before practice but you weren’t here.”

I placed the lid on his coffee before turning to see the orange-haired man had a slight blush on his face. “Well, here’s your drink.” I pass the hot liquid over until our hands touch.

“Thanks.” His voice held a stutter that wasn’t there before. “I really appreciate you staying later to make this for me.”

“No problem,” I say. His small frame turns towards the door. I follow him with my eyes while wondering what to say to keep the conversation going.

“Uhm, Hinata?” I call. My voice spoke before my mind processed the words. His hair flopped as he turned to look at me. “I have a few closing things that need to get done. You’ll get too cold if you continue to walk outside in this weather. Let me walk you at least to my bus stop.”

His smile sparkled more than the shimmering moon. “Thank you.” His grace was given at the cost of the smile. “I forgot to grab a jacket when I left.”

“I might have one that’s in the lost and found. Let me check.” I quickly walked to the back room before Hinata had a moment to reply. Even I could feel the warmth beneath my cheeks.

I finish up the small tasks behind the scenes. I praised any higher being that Carrie let me go home earlier rather than staying the extra hour to close. Sato, although being grumpy, was an extremely hard worker.

“Sato,” I say while picking up a large coat that won’t fit the tangerine’s frame. “I’m going to head out. See you in a few days.”

The man gruffed out a goodbye as we walked out the door. “So, why did you want to walk me to your stop?” he asks. His form seemed much smaller in the large coat. Tufts of hair were messed up from the collar.

“Oh.” It was my turn to stutter. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t running with the drink.” Lie. “You could spill it.” Another lie. “I like taking care of my customers.” While that wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the reason I followed him.

My mention of his drink made the man take a sip. “I should be the one walking you. After all, I am the man.” He puffed out his chest which only looked silly in the already puffed out leather.

A chuckle passed my lips. “What’s so funny?” he continues.

“It’s just-” I pause to take a breath between my laughter. “-I’m not sure. It may be that the coat’s too big for you. Sorry. It was the only thing that was left.”

He looks down to see that the jacket was almost past his knees in length. He shrugs his shoulders before taking another sip of coffee. “It’s alright. I’ve always had to live in massive shadows. What’s one helpful coat more.”

Hinata’s face turned to look at me once again. The smile from before was replaced by a serious look. “Hey this might be too forward but I don’t have a game tomorrow night. Would you like to go to dinner or something. I have to replace your kindness somehow.”

My footsteps were caught on the uneven gravel. I stumbled but didn’t fall. The blocker’s movements were instinctive to catch me even though it was a stumble. “Sorry, sorry,” I apologize quickly. “You caught me off guard.”

I look back to see his worried face scrunched into a question. “Is that a no?”

“Oh, no, no. I would love to go to dinner with you.” Hinata gave a sigh of relief. “Here. Put your number in my phone and I’ll text you later.”

I reached into my pocket to find my simple phone and give it to the man. He inputs his number before handing it back. We continue our walk for a few more steps before we end up at the bus stop.

“Thank you for walking me,” he says. “I look forward to that text later. My teams won’t believe that I get to go on a date tomorrow. Especially with you.”

“Good night Hinata,” I say while the 9:30 bus pulls up to the stop. The orange haired man waves goodbye to me with his empty hand.

As I take a seat on the bus, I find Hinata’s number and send a quick text to him; hopeful that he may reply soon.

#COFFEE SHOP AU #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu hinata #hinata shoyuo #hinata #hq #hq hinata #no doze caf

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ilguna · 4 years ago

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Tacenda - Chapter Twelve (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 3.2k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION, MURDER

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“(Y/n)?” Finnick shakes your body a little bit, you can feel it, “Hey, are you awake?”

He removes your arm from your face, but you still don’t open your eyes, still so exhausted.

His voice is no longer soft like it was before, “(Y/n).”

Finnick forces you to sit up, cradling your head with one hand. Your eyes shoot open after that, grabbing his upper arm in shock from the sudden motion. You look to him, confused.

“What?” your voice is hoarse.

He looks relieved, “You scared me.”

You look behind him to see that Johanna and Peeta are standing around, staring at you. Your eyebrows squish together as you try to put the pieces together. Why on earth would you scare them? You were just napping.

Oh.

“Sorry,” you sit up by yourself now, allowing him to let go, “Deep sleeping, I guess. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He stands, in one of his hands is both your knife and the trident. He offers his hand to you, and you take it. Once you’re on your feet, you get the knife back.

“We’re heading for the cornucopia.” he tells you, “Restock on some things.”

“Okay,” you nod, and then motion for them to go first, “Lead the way.”

Katniss takes the lead, and you grab a hold of Finnick’s hand. He looks at you, expecting you to say something, but you don’t. You just want to hold his hand for comfort while you guys walk to where you need to be. Johanna strikes up a conversation with him, and it takes the focus away from you.

You feel out of it as you get to the rock path, still not completely awake from the dream that you had with Blaire. You almost wish that Finnick had left you on that sand so you could be with Blaire a little longer.

He wasn’t your friend for a very long time, but it was a shock to see him, and it was nice to see an old friend. You wanted to sit there and talk forever, because he might have been a figment of your imagination, but it was nice. Nice to talk to someone, and escape what was happening in the real world.

You told him everything that you wanted to. You told him that you and Finnick had got married, and you had successfully had a victor come after you and Finnick five years later, which is obviously the same year you and Finnick got married. You then got to tell him that you’re in the games again because of the Quarter Quell, but most importantly, there’s a rebellion.

He was just telling you to be careful and not to do anything dumb when Finnick had woken you up. You knew Finnick was there, but you had hoped that you’d be able to stay a little while longer. You weren’t done sleeping yet, like your mind and body wanted you to stay.

He probably thought you were dead with how unresponsive you were, which is why you ended up apologizing to him. You didn’t mean to scare him like that, you just wanted to stay a little while longer. Blaire was new to you. And he looked so different than how he was before, but still looking like him.

Even if none of it was real, you’re glad that it had happened when it did. You’re happy that he was that escape that you needed, no matter how temporary. You just hope that this isn’t a sign of you going crazy. You need your head still, and that needs to be a one-time thing.

When you all had reached the rocks, you had to let go of Finnick so you could go before him. If you two were to hold onto each other, it would just make the process of walking on the uneven rocks a challenge. One of you would ultimately end up falling, and you don’t need that.

Katniss leads the way on this one, with Johanna, Peeta, Beetee, Wiress, you and Finnick following behind her. On the way, she begins to tell you about the clock theory, which had sprouted from Wiress in the first place.

“This entire arena seems to be laid out like a clock,” she says, “With a new threat every hour, but they stay only within their wedge. It all starts with the lightning, then the blood rain, fog, monkeys. That’s the first four hours. At ten, that big wave hits from over there.”

You’re all standing in the middle now, and she points to where the tide had come from, killing the girl from five only a couple of hours ago.

“Wiress, you’re a genius.” Finnick says as he passes her.

“The tail points to twelve.” Peeta says, you go ahead and take a seat on the nearest box, at the mouth of the cornucopia.

“That’s where the lightning strikes at noon and midnight.” Katniss says.

Beetee moves out, looking to where they had been pointing, “Strikes where?”

Katniss points at it again, “That big tree.”

He tilts his head a little bit, “Good.”

You watch as Finnick and Johanna scope out around you guys, looking for anyone that might be coming to the cornucopia.

However, they all begin to move in after Peeta comes by you. In the black sand, he draws a circle. He divides it up as he goes. Finnick stands next to you, hand on your shoulder.

“So, twelve to one, lightning. Then one to two is blood. Then fog, then monkeys.”

In the back, you can hear Wiress singing the nursery rhyme about the grandfather clock. You try not to pay much attention to it.

“Then ten to eleven, the wave. What about everything else, did you see anything?” Katniss asks.

“Nothing but blood.” Johanna says, Beetee crouches down next to Peeta.

You close your eyes, tilting your head from side to side to crack your neck. You briefly set down your knife to pop your knuckles, back and everything else along with it.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as we steer clear of whichever sector is active, we’ll be safe.” Peeta says, standing up again.

“Yeah, relatively speaking–” Finnick doesn’t even get to finish his sentence.

Wiress suddenly gasps, and you all turn to her in surprise.

The blood drains from your face when you see Gloss, which means that the other three aren’t that far behind. You jump up from where you’re sitting, hearing the cannon go off. You extend the knife into the sword, pulling Finnick away from the mouth of the cornucopia.

Gloss pulls out his knife, and turns to you guys with a smile. Katniss is quick though, and she fires an arrow at Gloss’ chest, instantly killing him. Another cannon goes off.

Your eyes flicker to your left when you see blonde hair, you move forward, “Johanna–your left!’

She turns without hesitation, pushing Katniss out of the way. Johanna spins, building up momentum, before she throws the axe straight at Cashmere. Another cannon goes off, but the sound of yelling from your right is alarming.

You pull Finnick out of the way just as Brutus throws a sword. You let go of him soon after, allowing him to head straight towards Brutus to fight.

You follow after him, picking up a spare throwing knife that’s on the box. It’s perfect too, because Enobaria comes right around the corner. Just as she throws a sword, you throw the knife.

It clips Finnick, and you can tell by the yell he lets out because of it. But lucky for you, your knife gets Enobaria’s side just before she’s able to move. She’s in nothing but her sports bra–as Brutus and Gloss were shirtless, the only person that was still fully covered was Cashmere–so the knife had only skin to cut through.

Just as they retreat, Katniss fires an arrow, but hits the side of the cornucopia.

Peeta goes to run after Brutus, however Finnick grabs him around the stomach to keep him from going. You try to make a grab for Katniss, falling onto your knees in the process.

Johanna is quick, though. She’s right behind Katniss, eliminating your problem of following her. You focus on getting back onto your feet, helping Finnick get a hold of Peeta so he doesn’t chase after them. Finnick manages to get Peeta to calm down, and you begin to head back to where you were before.

Then, you lose your footing the second that you feel the ground beneath you move.

Everyone else falls too, and you worry about the sword, so you collapse it into a knife. Then, you try your best to tuck it into the belt that’s around your waist. You’ve been messing with it every now and then, unsure of the use. But now it’s going to hold your weapon to make sure that it doesn’t hurt you.

It’s almost like when you were falling down that hill earlier today, and you didn’t want to get yourself or anyone else killed. Even if you were in front.

The island starts to speed up, which is when it gradually gets harder to hold on. You watch as Peeta tumbles down, but just barely manages to get a hold of the rock before it’s too late. Beneath you is Finnick, and you look down to see that he’s staring at you, worried.

The water being kicked up from the spinning isn’t helping much. It’s getting the rock wet, making it much easier to slip. You don’t dare to readjust your hands though, afraid of what would happen if you got into the water.

You guys have pissed off someone. Because this is in no way part of the clock.

You hear something splash behind you, and you look over again to see that Cashmere’s body is now gone. Probably getting tossed around the water underneath you.

You begin to panic a bit when you begin to hear the things inside of the cornucopia come loose. All the boxes, and weapons that aren’t tied down in some way pose a threat, and you can see it the second they start to move.

Beetee falls, and you reach over, grabbing his wrist. Finnick has a hold of his leg, and you go back to worrying about the weapons above. Now suddenly acutely aware that you’re only holding onto the middle with one hand now. And the water is making it so much harder.

A few of the weapons begin to fall, just barely missing you. Peeta moves out of the way, just in time for a sickle to come spinning at his head.

The next to come are the boxes, which would be so much worse to get hit by. Peeta flips onto his back, and you can’t imagine by any means how useless that is.

You try to make your body stick to the rocks, closing your eyes and turning your head to the side. You want this to stop.

It’s a few more times around until it finally comes to a slow. You aren’t normally motion sick, but the second that you’re able to let Beetee free, you’re pushing yourself onto your feet while trying not to fall over.

Finnick follows you to the edge while you bend over. Everything that you had eaten before suddenly comes up. Finnick holds you, just in case you suddenly lose your balance and fall over. Soon, there’s tears springing in your eyes, and nothing but stomach acid is coming up after that.

Once you catch your breath, your first question is about Katniss and Johanna. He tells you it looks like Katniss had fallen off, but they’re both okay now. You scoop up some water–that’s away from the puke–and put it in your mouth, swishing away the taste of vomit. Obviously, you don’t swallow it, and you spit it out back where it had come from.

Finnick is sure to stick by you after that, even though you’re telling him that you’re just fine over and over. He doesn’t want to accept that as an answer, and you eventually let it be. In what’s left of the boxes, you find something to eat. Everyone else loads up on what they need, eating some for themselves, while on the other hand, Katniss gets more arrows and Peeta grabs a new machete.

You’re careful to take it easy on the eating as you start to head back to the sand. You guys don’t want to be on the island any longer than you have to.

You guys settle beneath a tree, sitting in a circle, almost. You watch as everyone drops their things off, unworried about people coming to sneak up on you again. It would eb stupid for Enobaria and Brutus to come back, considering that there’s six of you, and two of them. No matter how big brutus is, they’ll be overpowered by all of you.

Peeta basically sits on one of the lower branches, machete stabbed into the sand. Katniss sits to the left, playing around with the sand in her hands, then there’s Johanna and Beetee. Finnick stands to your left, arms over another branch that’s reaching out to the water.

You unravel your arms from around Finnick’s calf as you push yourself up, “I’m going to pee real quick.”

“Do you want one of us to go with you?” he asks, you shake your head.

“I don’t think they’ll test us, Finn.” you kiss him, “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“Yell if you need help.” he tells you, stopping you to kiss you again.

You laugh, pulling away because he’s being ridiculous. You grab your knife, and then wave to the others, to signal your leave.

You’re careful as to where you step when you first enter the trees. But eventually, you get a hang of it, getting over the roots and around the leaves and twigs that stand in the way. You go as far as you dare to, knowing that your scream can definitely be loud if you want it to be.

Hell, the girl from five that got wiped out–jesus christ. You guys heard her all the way across the arena, and that’s pretty fucking far. You can imagine that you can definitely reach the same range as she can. Even if you don’t normally have a reason to scream.

Adrenaline is one hell of a drug. It can increase strength, heighten core senses, like seeing and hearing and all of that. It can make you process things faster, it’s basically endless possibilities on what it can do. The body just doesn’t use it, because it isn’t necessary.

You can remember a couple of times in the district where there had been some sort of accident. Like a bookshelf, or some weights fell on top of a kid, or someone who couldn’t pick it up for themselves. All of a sudden, someone who looks like they wouldn’t be able to lift it either, is picking it off of them.

As you said before though, adrenaline goes through the body because the brain wants to keep the body alive. It’s not used as a motive to keep fighting, it’s used to keep you alive. It can help in fights, and it can help when you’re severely wounded, but it’s not meant as a tool to fight.

That makes sense, right?

You find your perfect place in the jungle, being sure to even go as far as to hide in a bush while you take care of your business. You’re mainly paranoid that the careers will take their chance and try to attack you. You are alone, and you’re vulnerable. And no matter what you’re in the middle of doing, a kill is a kill, no matter how gross.

On your way back to where everyone else is, you whistle to fill the silence and drown out the cicadas, still loud as ever. You’re tired of the constant noise, and you wonder if they ever sleep.

When you get back onto the beach, you see that the spot where everyone just was a few minutes earlier, is completely void. No one stands or sits there any longer, and all the weapons have been picked up. As you get closer, you can see that their footprints in the sand are deep, and they lead straight into the jungle.

They were running from something?

You look out to the water, and around the middle, but you see nothing. No one is in the water, or in the middle, or on the beach or the treeline. It’s peaceful out here.

You look down again, and it’s only their footprints. There’s no animal.

You turn, following the path that they had all stamped into the ground from running. It isn’t until you’ve taken ten or so steps, still pondering over what had happened, when you realized that it doesn’t have to be a mutt. It could have definitely been the careers.

But with no cannon, and no body left behind, it’s still extremely weird.

You press the button for the knife to become a sword just for safety. As you jog, you look behind and around you occasionally. You can only hope that you’re going in the right direction after a while, because the footsteps seem to disappear entirely.

“Finnick?!” You yell, “Johanna?”

“(Y/n)!” Johanna yells back, you pick up the speed.

You swing the sword, getting things out of your path, so you can see ahead more. When you get to the others, you collapse the sword again, seeing that they’re just fine.

Something is so severely off, though.

You look over the scene in front of you.

Peeta is on his knees, forehead pressed to some invisible wall. Johanna stares at you in shock, while Beetee looks like he doesn’t know what to do. When you move closer, you can see past Peeta that Katniss and Finnick are on the other side.

There’s birds swarming them, and they both have their hands clamped over their ears.

“What’s happening?” you ask, belting your knife as you get closer.

“Jabberjays.” Beetee says.

“Katniss heard Prim scream.” Peeta tells you, “Finnick must have heard you or something, because he ran deeper.”

“But they can see us?” you ask, looking to them, “Can they hear us?”

“No.” Johanna tells you.

You crouch down against the wall, placing your hand on it. It feels weird, not charged with thousands of volts of electricity. It’s a barrier, it’s keeping you from seeing him.

Katniss looks to be in much worse shape. She’s facing towards you guys, eyes closed with her hands over her ears. She leans down, away from the birds that are swaming them.

Finnick is similar, but he’s rocking himself back and forth. Eyes shut, hands over his ears and it looks like his jaw is clenched.

“What can we do?” you ask, looking to Johanna and Beetee, “There has to be some way to get in there–”

“You saw how it works.” Peeta says, “With the water and the fog. There’s no way around it.”

He’s right.

No one is allowed in or out.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair tacenda #tacenda

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kryptsune · 5 years ago

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In this world, it is hunt or be hunted~

(I apologize for the pic quality so I will write what they are saying this was a response to the, What do you think about Fellswap question from before.)

C: “I am sorry did you happen to mention us? But of course, she had a soft spot for us. We are Fells you know~” G: “Kitten’s been workin on our debut, ya can call me Grimm.”

C: “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Crimson~.”

🌼Ok! Here we go! A few people asked me about Fellswap or SwapFell which understandably so I think by now everyone here knows my love for anything with Fell tacked onto the back of it. Secret discussion though that I adore Fellswap Papyrus and Sans so I had to make my own! As always I have rewritten the entire verse to have my own personal touch to it! I will just describe the main ideas and maybe some key character details in the process! Hope you all enjoy and if you would like to see more of these boys let me know!

The Surface:

I want to talk about the humans on the surface first to kind of set the stage for what this AU is going to be based upon. The surface has been overrun by corrupt leaders. It is very much the concept of big brother. If you are seen as a threat you will be immediately thrown into “prison” without a trial. They hold occasional public trials in the guise of being fair. Just as WTU claims, the very concept of magic is a threat to them so those that have it are quickly disposed of but leaders don’t always do the dirty work themselves. No. In fact, they use another source by means of execution...the monsters.

More accurately it is very similar to the idea of throwing your enemies into a kind of gladiatorial arena. It is not technically considered an execution if circumstances lead to death. The humans are not stupid they know what is going on. Some believe in rebellion against the state and some wonder if the monsters could fix their corrupt world. Either way, the corruption continues and they are not above tossing innocents into “the pit” if it suits their agenda. “The Pit” (aka the Underworld/Underground):

The underworld is broken up into different factions by location. The only location without a faction or any type of ruler is The Ruins, because of its size and its isolation this is where humans try to reach for some form of Salvation. Asgore, the caretaker, has made it into an encampment for those that have fallen (the innocent ones). It is almost like a refugee camp only unfortunately very few make it to Asgore’s safe haven. He does his best. Poor goat dad. He is not like canon Toriel however as he will use violence if necessary as he knows that the humans are simply using them as tools to get rid of who they deem criminal. There are signs of old campfires, broken tents, and habitation.

Before The Ruins is, of course, the main factions. I know a lot of creators tend to swap location names and since Snowdin is the beginning and my boy Crimson is one of the most powerful in the Underworld I am going to as well. Here is the list. Snowdin=Magmire, Waterfall=Windyspires, Hotland=Tundra. The Underworld is also backward to some extent. The humans end up trapped in The Capital instead and they have to make their way to The Ruins to escape. So it would go like this: The Capital -> Tundra ->Windyspires ->Magmire. The closer the faction to the capital the higher the rank in other words because both Grimm and Crimson live in Tundra and he is the lord of it he is one of the most notorious.

“It’s Hunt or be Hunted”:

The modo of this verse. Why? Well after so many centuries of humans being disposed of by monsters they become horribly bored. It also adds fuel to Queen Toriel’s fire that one of the humans that fell down the first time killed her son (;~; RIP my precious boy). That is when they realized that humans weren’t just falling into the Underworld they were not only throwing them down to them but also throwing the worst of the worst.

At first, they just capture them hold them in the Capitals network of catacombs but then some began to escape causing damage across their “new home” Toriel wouldn’t allow it. Very much later it turns into a game of cat and mouse. The humans are detained and released and the monsters hunt them down. It used to be a protection thing but now it’s become a sick twisted death game. The forests of Tundra are littered with traps and deadly pitfalls along with the rest of the locations.

Each faction has a lord or lady that rules over it. The ones loyal to Toriel’s (As a side note she is known as the ice queen) regime and their supposed way of life. This also means the closest ones receive the most benefits. Tundra is the one with the most prestige and of course other monsters are trying to stip that title from its current holder, The Crimson Lord. Due to Crimson’s loyalty, he is almost exempt from any wrongdoing in the Queens' eyes which means he can do pretty much anything he wants. Which is dangerous and I will explain why in a bit.

I have a faction ruler list sitting here so I am going to add that to this as well. They are as follows, of course, this does not account for potential power struggles during the story: Tundra -> Lord: Crimson, Lady: N/A

Windyspires -> Lord? (I mean she wouldn’t want to be called a lady SHE IS TOO TOUGH FOR THAT!): Alphys, Lady: Undyne

Magmire->Lord: Grillby, Lady: Muffet

Some of the lords or ladies will keep humans as servants and things of that nature if they are able to be on their captor's good side. Some live good lives but others just become slaves essentially. It’s not a common occurrence in this I just wanted to make a note of it.

The Brothers Grimm:

Let’s get to the main event here. The two boys this post is showing. My Fellswap Sans and Paprus. Now I honestly was not planning to do them but I just. I love the puppy boi and I adore @cocofinny , @bis-cvit , @skesgo , @imjustalazycat and so many other interpretations of him. This... is mine. Sans name is Crimson, or the Crimson Lord and Papyrus is Grimm. I chose those names because originally I wanted a vampire and werewolf dynamic between the two and I think that still shines through. (I ain’t changin it~) Crim is the regal sophisticated seducer and Grimm is the wild possessive flirty type.

Let’s talk about Grimm. Grimm is the wilder of the two brothers and is very much a predator type. His name is derived from the mythos of the Grimm or Black dog. I wanted to keep that dark omen symbology in both his name and design. He slinks around in the shadows so that the black dog aspect is not far off. He also loves watching from trees so if you see a shadow over you, whoops. He enjoys the catching and hunting aspect of his job and even plays around with his “toys” (I know how that sounds) when he finds them. He will specifically call anyone “chew toy” in a mocking kind of way. That does not mean though that he will not spare you if he catches you. He is naturally curious by things. Fun fact he has a little skele tail too. Unlike his brother, Grimm doesn’t really have an ego he just finds his job fun. HE IS A GIANT PUPPY BOI WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

He admires his brother but he is not bound to his brother. In other words no master, dog nonsense. He is, however, the more accepting of the two. If he is asked to do something he doesn’t like then he most likely won’t. Also just because he has the whole puppy thing going on doesn’t mean he isn’t smart and cunning. Again he likes to play around with those he finds sometimes not even dragging them back to his brother for a while. If you are a threat he will kill you but if you’re not you can probably get on his good side. If he thinks you are cute he will probably flirt with you too. He is not beyond that. He plays the part of the dog quite well though well all know that there is more to him then that as is any Sans archetype.

Crimson is more sophisticated. He doesn’t go out on “hunts” himself often as he has a faction to rule over but those brought to him will see first hand that he is an insufferable flirt. He also has a bad habit of keeping mementos from those he deems worthy (what those are... you don’t want to know). He is stern with his brother and seems very outwardly cold to most unless he is playing up his charm. He is not someone you want to make angry as Toriel considers him to also be the Bloody Lord. His weapon of choice is a scythe so if that doesn’t give the executioner vibe then I have no idea what will. His drinks of choice are red wine and champagne specifically the pink kind. Have to keep up that pink/ red aesthetic. Crimson’s incisor teeth also have that vampire point to them. They are longer than the rest of them (You can’t see it here since I decided to edit this prior to writing this up). There is far more to Crimson than just this as their backstories dictate but I wanted to give a general feel for what they are both like.

Is there a story?

Yes, there is. I will make it relatively short since this post is already massive in size. In my version, there are two siblings that fall into this world both twins. One is Frisk and the other is Chara. Since this is a swap, Frisk is more aggressive of the two and highly protective of her sister. Chara is the sweet and kind one that will abstain from any violence at all. Now Frisk in this is not the usual Chara swap because I want them to find their place amongst the world. Frisk has no problem using violence as a means of protection and self-defense but she won’t actively look for a fight.

Why are they here you ask? Well, sadly they have magic within their souls hence the soul traits. They both also have the same soul outwardly, Determination, however, there is one other trait that is housed within their soul that makes them very different. Frisk’s is perseverance and Chara’s is kindness. As usual, the leaders of the Ebott Empire are threatened by their potential for magical abilities and as such are sentenced to be executed. Thus they become part of the hunt.

Guess who runs into them? Frisk is the first to be captured by none other than Crimson and Chara is found by Grimm. It is strange that Crimson is not his usual self in their circumstances as he can tell, unlike so many others that they have captured in the past, that they are very different. Grimm can’t bring himself to harm Chara due to her innocence and Crimson enjoys Frisks headstrong and sassy attitude. In other words *slaps hands on table* you get a two for one. One Papyrus X Chara and one Frisk X Sans. They are adults by the way.

Eventually much to Crimson’s reluctance they decide to help them escape as unlike most of the AU the monsters have no problem staying this way. Not all of them agree but the Lords certainly love their titles and don’t want to give up that power...that is until Frisk mentions that all those horrible corrupted humans on the surface could be like one giant... hunt. In which case Crimson is alll for so is Grimm but he is not dying to get to the surface.

They make it to Asgore (who has all the souls btw the barrier is in The Ruins) who tries to get them to stay instead of sacrificing one of them for their freedom. It’s obvious that the brothers actually don’t want either of them to die.

As Crimson says: “What is another century or two? We have all the time in the world.”

Frisk and Chara become integrated into the Underworld and though Grimm continues his hunting he doesn’t want Chara to witness it. Crimson just has Frisk as his little huntress. It is unclear if they will make it out of the Underworld in this AU. It really depends upon how I feel the story would make the most sense and I think having the two sisters happy with and accepted into their lives is all they really wanted. They were considered “monsters” on the surface so why return there? (unless to watch it burn... of course).

I have a lot more for this AU so feel free to drop any questions you may have in my ask box! I know this is a huge post so I really appreciate you all sticking with me if you made it this far! I really have enjoyed making my own FS for what I am now tagging Friskys multiverse! Have a great Tuesday everyone!

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION IT IS NOT FOR YOUR USE. IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE REBLOG INSTEAD! It helps me so much! It makes such a difference.💙

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anonbaph · 6 years ago

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This is my Secret Santa for Rowan @lithuanias for @yoisecretsanta18 !! [if I didn’t messed the names here]

I planned this drawing since day 1 -- but when I came to draw it I needed context... then for a stupid thing I did I needed even more context... so the fic was born!!

You can read it on Ao3 or here after the read more. This drawing is on Twitter too.

Yuuri has always loved dragons.

Since he was a child he’d grown accustomed to dragons, a friend’s parents were dragon trainers. He spent most of his time after the afternoon lessons in the trainers’ grounds, playing with both of his friends there. He loved it when the adults let him ride a dragon, and he even began to learn how to perform to participate in local competitions.

That was the reason the trainers invited him to watch a performance in another city. He was very excited as presentation was being held with renowned personalities who had won high places in international competitions. They were doing a world wide tour to show the best of the sport. Then, it happened and his life was never the same.

Yuuri was twelve when he met them. The beautiful boy and his majestic dragon. There were older riders performing who were more experienced than the boy, but Yuuri was enthralled by their program. Their amazing display of grace and harmony, showed their compatibility and training achieved even at the rider’s young age.

After that he threw himself into practice, all the free time he got was used to train. The adults happy to get a student who was really invested in the training. It wasn’t really their job, but they tried to give him all the opportunities they could offer. He soon asked his parents for his own dragon. He really, really wanted to have a dragon so precious like her, with that elegant figure and pretty scales, clearly well taken care of too.

His parents considered it. Unfortunately, they couldn’t afford to have the same kind that he was asking for, as they had no room nor income to maintain such large dragon, but they saw the sparkle in their son’s eyes. They got him a dragon.

The dragon was still a baby; the same height as their son. They knew when it grew up it could easily reach double the height of a tall adult, and that was just speaking about the height!! Dragons were huge, you know? And from what they were told, it looked just like the other dragon, just with scales a bit more darker than its original inspiration.

They saw the raw happiness radiate from their child as he named the dragon after his idol.

As a young adult Yuuri kept going to exhibitions to perform, even more than just the local ones he used to participate in when he was a kid. But with his current level he couldn’t make enough to provide all the expenses needed. As much as his family wasn’t short of money and a dragon were really tough when facing any issue, but they were still high maintenance.

So he kept flying and learning new acrobatics, but as soon as he could he got a job to help with his parent’s bills. Not everyone owns a dragon, so he used that to his benefit. Mail by horse was still the forte of local provincial communications, but if someone wanted to get a faster service they opted for dragon mail. Giving his local knowledge and history as a rider, he got hired quickly.

He also took advantage of his new work. When he got to go to faraway places he could spend a couple of days there and join some neighbourhood’s acrobatic performances or competitions. This wasn’t going to really give him a “name” in the field, but he could get experience, easy money and even a few contacts if he decided to step into the professional world. Ah, how much he hoped.

Maybe after saving for a while he could just take a long break from working to join a troupe of sign up to a bigger competition. He still needed to improve first, then he could show their skill to the world. One day he could even fly wing-to-wing with them! Only imagine it, competing at the same level, a new performance that would show how proud of himself he was. Imagine getting praises from <em>him</em>, or even an invitation to play a program together.

The first time Viktor saw the boy in a competition.

The competition was not a big one nor one where he was participating. And again, he didn't even watched the boy compete there. They met after it was over.

Frequently he used part of his spare time to check new faces in the sport, so he watched smaller competitions and shows. Usually the ones ending in higher standings would continue training and get to be big names in the future.

As he became more famous he tended to make himself invisible to the public for not being recognized, melting with the mass of people. Not wearing his flamboyant clothes and covering his distinctive hair. Entering and leaving the arena when no one watched.

It happened one time he was already leaving. Then he saw it, a dragon similar to his. Confused for a second as his mind reminded she was still far into the mountain and noticed the discrepancies. His dragon was smaller yet its color slightly different.

While he was busy thinking, a boy appeared from behind the creature. The boy was checking the straps of the saddle and some bags attached to it. The stranger’s clothes were extravagant, like the costume a participant could wear. But unknown. He didn't see him in the arena before.

He didn't remember a dragon of this breed neither, but again, he didn't get to watch all the competition. Later, he went to the information stand and learnt that indeed there was a participant like that. He decided to check the next time he saw his name.

And, woah, what a good decision it was. There weren't many occasions, but each time he could watch the boy and his dragon fly, was a delight. Such artistic programs, if not for a small lack of technique, surely could win a big deal of events.

Each time he watched them fly he got more and more attached. If the reason was they beautiful movements on the air or the beautiful looks of the riding boy, he didn’t mind too much anymore.

Over the exhibitions Viktor watched, he noticed how the boy grew confident with their performances improved their technique. The boy, Yuuri, still lacks some skills last time he saw, but nothing that fitting training could not fix. What if they talked? He could teach Yuuri what he was lacking! Which of them could win then?

He really wants for they to chat now. It seems like a good timing too, as he looks the official list of riders for the current contest. ‘Yuuri Katsuki’ is written between the names of his rivals this time. There still time before the competition begins, so he concludes he could try his luck checking the stables. Elated, he goes to the next building, but when he arrives the place is empty except for the dragons.

Walking resigned around the room he realizes there is a free box stall. Approaching it he reads the name tag of the box and smiles, then approaches to his dragon prepare her to go outside. He wonders what could Makkachin think if he manages to get them a new dragon friend. Together with its human friend, clearly.

They can’t be too far, as the opening is soon. He concludes to take a few minutes of searching could not be wrong and leaves riding. Outside he notices a deep rumble, almost like a heavy purr, like when he grooms the scales of his dragon’s neck. They follow the sound and… there is he. Viktor pauses to breath for a few seconds, then asks Makka to move again.

“Hi!!”

Yuuri jolts when he hears the voice ringing in the room. He was pretty sure he could be alone with Vicchan for a while before the competitions begins, but it seems someone decided to get rid of his chance. He didn’t even notice someone was near them, the fool! He turns his head around and this time he almost falls in surprise when recognizes <em>who</em> stole his chance.

There, just a few meters away from them, is Viktor Nikiforov.

He has no idea how. Really, he has no idea! But, right now Viktor Nikiforov - The Viktor Nikiforov just asked him if he wanted go for a ride on Makkachin. With Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov. He even knew his name!!! This means he’s surely delirious, right? His brain must be thinking he’s asleep. Did he slip from Vicchan while flying? Is he dead?

Still awestruck, he nods to the offer and stands up in the saddle. Nervously takes the open hand extended in front of him and tries to step on Makkachin’s stirrup without falling. He sat down and looks how Viktor is giggling to himself. What is so amusing? He can’t think, he is too busy looking at how gorgeous Viktor looks with that pretty outfit.

As he keeps looking, not like he’s staring!, the giggles morfes to an amazed laugh. And, Goodness!, he loves that laugh. But Yuuri doesn’t get what’s wrong yet.

“I know you need only one of us to command Makka, Yuuri. But still both of us should be looking forward. It’s… safer that way, don’t you think?” Viktor says, still snickeringa little.

Then he does notice what is wrong. He curses in his mind as he notices the terrible amateur mistake he made. The idiot just got onto the saddle backward.

“S-sorry!” Ashamed, he stands up quickly turns on the saddle and sits again, babbling incoherent apologies while Viktor just laughs louder and dismisses them telling it’s not serious matter.

Then, they take to the skies with Vicchan following them. He’s already calmed down after five minutes or so, when Viktor cuts the silence speaking again.

“You know, I laughed but it’s not too bad, Yuuri! Actually, everyone made a mistake or two from time to time. You’re aware of that, surely.”

“That doesn’t mean they are idiotic mistakes like this. I doubt it,” he says, stubborn as no one else could be. He knows it. Viktor chuckles.

“Oh well, if you really think it, this only give me the opportunity to extend my offer.” They land and he feels a gentle pat on his back. He looks over his shoulder as Viktor continues talking. “Since a while ago I’ve planned to propose sharing training information with you.”

Yuuri just keeps looking speechless. Is this really not a dream? Viktor grins at his expression.

“What do you say? Want to train with me?”

‘Like a dream come true’

He smiles and nods.

#Yuri on Ice #YoI #secret santa 2018 #wewritevictuuri #drawing #fic #dragon rider au #fantasy #Baph art #digital art #simple color #clip studio

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you-andthebottlemen · 5 years ago

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54 - An Original: taking Van to a student festival/rave

So, I saw Catfish A WEEK AGO (where does time go??) and ohhh my god. It was amazing. I made some wonderful friends in line since I went alone and Van even spoke to me from stage between songs. DEAD. They were all so fucking happy and beautiful and cute. And the new songs go offfff live, I loved it. Van did that thing in Business where he’d scream and yell then start singing parts of Sidetrack as if he’s in a trance. And I’m like babe did you forget the song is actually part of the setlist now? But it was so cute, he was just so happy and into it. Also heard him do the Ouch kabibble thing and I couldn’t believe. I want to go back to that moment and live in it forever, best concert!!

Have any of you guys seen them recently? I’d love to hear about your experiences!!!

Anyway - weirdly enough I had a dream the other night....with Van in it. And I remember it as if it were real. So, I HAD to write a fic about it. It’s short but sweet. And apologies for the break in requests, but this was an emergency. I promise I am working on all the requests you guys have sent in, thank you soo much! Enjoy!!!

(P.s obviously I have embellished the dream to make it into a fic lol and yes I know it’s not all that realistic and logical).

**********************************

You checked your phone for the time, almost obsessively. Van was due to arrive any moment and you were becoming antsy waiting alone outside the venue, watching crowds of people file inside. Every time a taxi pulled up your heart fluttered hoping it was Van. Soon, it was 10 minutes past the time you were meant to meet, then 15. You leant against the cold wall, awkwardly staring around you trying to spot your fluffy haired boy in the sea of faces. You’d not seen him for months and you were sweating with anticipation.

“Babe!”

Finally.

Van ducked between people and made his way to you. When you saw him, your heart swelled to double its normal size. Having him home was the best thing in the whole world. Van scooped you up in his arms and held you tight, holding a hand to the back of your head. With your eyes shut, you breathed him in.

When you drew away after your long embrace, you looked at his face. It was exactly the same as the last time you’d seen it, but you didn’t care, you took him all in. His freckles, his pale skin, his messy eyebrows and those beautiful, beautiful blue eyes.

“You’re late,” you said finally, a small smile in your voice.

“Sorry,” Van said quietly as he tugged the hem of your shirt so your bodies were pulled closer.

He may have said sorry, but his eyes didn’t look sorry at all. Van leant in and kissed you hard. You tangled your fingers in the soft hair that curled at the back of his neck and his hands found their way to the waistband of your skirt. With a heavy breath, you pulled away.

Van made a whining noise.

“I know. Later,” you chuckled.

You led Van by the hand into the venue. It was massive, like an outdoor arena. It was the end of the university year and to celebrate there was a massive festival, or rave, you weren’t sure. But you were absolutely buzzing about it. You followed the crowd to the box office to pick up your tickets. The line was long, but you just stood with your head rested on Van’s shoulder and his hand clasped firmly in yours. Van briefly caught you up on the tour while you waited, recounting the places he visited and stories of their antics. In hindsight you should have just paid the extra money to get the tickets sent to you in the post.

When it was your turn, you showed the woman in the box your confirmation email and license.

“Student ID please,” she said bluntly.

You showed your ID card and she nodded, handing you the tickets.

“You too,” she said, looking at Van. You felt him tense beside you.

“He just graduated. Doesn’t have a valid ID anymore,” you responded quickly.

You heart began to race in panic. Van didn’t have a student ID because he wasn’t a university student and never had been. So technically he wasn’t allowed into the event. You definitely should have had the tickets posted.

The woman looked at you sceptically then held one finger up before leaning back to talk to a colleague. You squeezed Van’s hand nervously.

“Nope. No ID, no entry,” she said finally, her face straight. She wasn’t going to budge.

You moved away from the box office and found a quiet spot off to the side.

“Fuuuck,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. Van looked at you with his lips pursed.

You felt torn; you didn’t want to go to the event without Van, you’d been looking forward to it for weeks. But you also didn’t want to miss out on it and your friends who were already inside waiting for you. You leant against the wall in defeat, a pout on your face. Van reached an arm out and pulled you into him. He kissed you on the forehead, holding his lips to your skin for a little while.

“It’s okay, just go in. Have fun,” he reassured you.

God, you loved him.

“No. Fuck this, come on,” you replied crossly.

Van smiled at your rage, his eyes brimming with love.

You dragged him along behind you and stood in line at the ticket barriers. You had the tickets. The box office woman mustn’t have realised she’d handed over both. So, you had the tickets, just not the permission for Van to use his. That, or it wasn’t valid to get him inside. Either way, you were going to get him in. Van didn’t get to go to university or do student things, so he’d been really looking forward to it despite the fact that it wasn’t really his scene. You weren’t going to leave him behind or let him miss out.

Huge crowds of people were flowing through the barriers, so surely Van could slip through. You’d paid after all.

When it was your turn, you scanned the ticket on the electronic barrier and buzzed through without an issue. You waited and watched nervously as Van did his. He kept tapping the ticket on the scanner, his face scrunching up in confusion. People yelled and made noises at him from behind, annoyed he was holding them up. The idiot couldn’t work out how to scan it properly.

“Hold it down and let the light scan it! Don’t tap!” you yelled at him. He just looked up at you with eyebrows raised. You smiled and shook your head. He may have been an idiot, but he was a cute idiot and he was yours.

Finally, Van got the ticket to scan. It buzzed him through and security didn’t bat an eyelash. Triumph. Van all but jumped over the barrier in excitement, howling in a high-pitched tone as he bounced over to you and lifted you off your feet. You laughed as he spun you round, gripping his shoulders tightly. When he placed you down, you felt people staring at your PDA, but you didn’t care. You were giddy in love and they were probably just jealous.

“Definitely on something that one,” you heard a lady say to the man beside her as you walked by, her eyes on Van. She seemed to be venue staff.

Ordinarily you’d be pissed off at comments made about Van, but you were so overwhelmed with love that it only worked to make you smile.

“Not on anything, just beyond ecstatic!” you called out to her, a grin on your face.

You wrapped your arm around Van’s waist and planted a kiss on his cheek as your bodies collided together with the force.

Following the crowd through to the main stage, you kept your arm around Van’s body, and he had his around your shoulders. You bunched his fuzzy black jumper up in your hand. It was a relief to have him back in your grip and his body close to yours once again.

“You know this probably wasn’t smart,” you said to Van, pinching the front of his jumper with your spare hand.

“Y/n. I came straight from the airport for this, don’t you be fussin’ about my outfit,” he replied, his voice full of amusement and faux annoyance. You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Well I’m not holding it when you get hot.”

First stop was the bar. You each grabbed two beers so you wouldn’t have to come back too soon and line up yet again. Once drinks were acquired, the two of you plunged into the crowd at main stage in search of your friends. An act was already playing, electronic music with a deep bass pulsed all around you. You felt excited, like your whole body was buzzing and radiating happiness. Sweaty bodies danced around you and you weaved your way through them to your friends.

By the time you managed to find everyone, Van had finished both beers and you were almost through your first.

“Y/n!!” Alix screamed when she saw you.

She pounced on you, causing a beer to spill down your arm. It didn’t matter though. Alix was dressed in all white like most of the people there, and already had UV paint spattered across her chest and dotted around her face, ready for the lights to come on when the sun went down. Alix bundled Van into a hug like she had done with you and then pulled you over to where the others were stood.

You hugged everyone hello and introduced Van to those he hadn’t already met, though it was a bit difficult in the loud environment and confined space of the crowd. Van couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. He was tipsy and touchy feely with you, taking any opportunity to touch you and pull you close. He would put a hand on your waist under your t-shirt, so he could feel your skin, or move hair out of your eyes any chance he got. It was small things like that which you both missed so much when he was away. Van was his usual outgoing self though amplified by the alcohol on what you presumed was an empty stomach. This only made you buzz more.

As you all began to party and dance, you finished your drinks and reached out to kiss Van. You smiled into his lips and he held your face with both hands while you slowly made out.

“I love you two,” Mike said dreamily as he snapped a photo on his disposable camera.

You turned and smiled at him, your arms still hung around Van’s neck.

“You better get me a print of that!”

“You bet,” he grinned and danced away to take more photos elsewhere.

You stood with your back to Van and he wrapped himself around you. You swayed to the music and took it all in. People bounced and screamed, others held their friends up on their shoulders, some were busy taking photos, some drinking and dancing. You imagined what it would be like to watch it all unfold from the stage. You understood why Van loved playing to huge crowds so much. It was beautiful.

The sun began to sink and the sky turned a deep shade of blue. The flood lights and colourful lasers lit up the crowd and the music became louder. You let go of Van and danced with Alix for a while, spinning each other around and popping your hips to the beat. She had managed to sneak in a flask of vodka which she happily shared around, much to your delight. As you all grew increasingly more drunk, the music just seemed to get better and better. It was becoming like one huge rave.

When you found your way back to Van, he was sat up on Mike’s shoulders. He’d taken off his jumper and was swinging it above his head like a lasso. He was cheering and yelling loudly with a huge grin smacked across his face. You laughed and fell even more in love.

“Hey! You need some paint!” A small girl covered head to toe in glowing UV colours said, popping up out of nowhere. She offered you a tube of paint and you squeezed some onto your hand.

“Thanks! You look amazing.”

She beamed at you. Van clambered down from Mike’s shoulders and took the tube off her, squeezing it into his hand and rubbing them together so they were evenly covered in paint.

“Babe!” he shouted, and you whipped around to face him.

Before you could react, Van reached out and quickly grabbed your boobs, leaving two fluorescent pink hand prints behind. The girl who had given you the paint looked slightly horrified. Van recoiled sheepishly despite his mischievous grin; equally amused with himself and afraid of your reaction. He wiped the remainder of the paint across his bare stomach.

After a moment, you burst out laughing and then dove towards him, grabbing his face and smearing it with paint. Both of you erupted into giggles and a sort of wrestling match broke out between you. When you were left breathless and painted covered, you escaped out of the crowd and over to the food stands on the side. You had a sweaty, shirtless and colourful Van by your side and his jumper tied around your waist.

Van sat down on an empty patch of concrete and patted the space beside him. You crouched down and took some hot chips from the box in his hands. Although it was shitty, overpriced festival food, god it was good. You ate in silence, wolfing down the chips quickly into your drunken, hungry stomachs.

When you were done, you tried to get back to your group before the main event started.

“You know the headline act is Annie Mac doing a DJ set? You literally know her. You could’ve gotten in easy…why didn’t we think of that?” you said to Van as you pushed through hordes of moving bodies.

Van’s faced dropped and he looked dumbstruck for a moment. Then he shrugged and hung an arm around your shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter, I got in. I’m here, you’re here,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss. “And that’s all I care about.”

“I am so fucking happy you’re home,” you sighed, your heart feeling fuzzy and warm. You rested your head on his chest and shut your eyes in relief.

“Me too, love.”

You gave up on finding the others, you’d meet them once it was all over. You and Van squeezed in between a random group of people and boogied with them instead. A remix of One Direction’s ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ began playing and everyone cheered. You glanced at Van with a smirk. He was nodding his head to the beat unaware.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing……’I promised Ma a jacuzzi see’,” you teased, referring to the tweet he’d sent to one of the boys in One Direction a while back. You found that whole ‘feud’ hilarious.

Van gave you a look and knocked his shoulder into yours. “Shut up….now come here.”

He bent down and hoisted you up onto his shoulders. You screamed and clung to him, worried you’d fall. Though quickly you got your balance and felt literally on top of the world as you looked at the massive crowd around you all moving to the rhythm of the music. The lights were bright and colourful, so were the people with their glowing t-shirts or painted faces and bodies. It was a jungle out there and you loved it.

Most importantly, you loved the boy who was holding you tightly, making sure you wouldn’t fall.

#van #vanfic #van mccann #van mccann fanfiction #catfish #catb #Catfish and the Bottlemen

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 6 years ago

Text

When Jackie Saw Queen

Okay, so this was a little plot bunny semi-inspired by @skyler10fic and our Bohemian Rhapsody conversation/asks.

Summary: After Rose and the Doctor swooped in to save the day from Elton's betrayal, the Doctor takes Jackie for a trip to apologize.

Note: This was written quickly and without much editing. The three mentioned are based on the scene in Bohemian Rhapsody, which is Mary Austin, her husband, and Jim Hutton. Word of advice is don’t think too hard about this!

Rose held her mother tighter, whispering soothing nonsense into her hair as Jackie cried. While Elton’s motives had been understandable (Rose would have done the same or worse for the Doctor), his actions towards Jackie had been unforgivable.

The Doctor cleared his throat, and both women glanced up to see him lingering by the table, hands in his pockets as he rocked gently on his heels, the picture of guilt and sheepishness. “Can I…”

The Tylers nodded in unison, and he shuffled forward, crouching down in front of Jackie and steadying himself with a hand on Rose’s knee.

“Is Elton all right?” Rose asked quietly, when he didn’t speak. Despite her anger at the man, she couldn’t deny he’d had a traumatic few days as well, and deserved if not forgiveness, at the least pity.

“Yes.” He barely spared her a glance, turning his laser-focus on her mother. “Jackie, I want to apologize. Elton used you to get to me, and that is not okay. However, I can’t guarantee that it will never happen again. If it does, and we’re not already here, please call. We’ll come with the full Calvary. And by Calvary I mean Rose.”

That earned him a snort and reluctant smile from Jackie. “Thank you. I just…” she sighed, glancing around her flat. “It might take some time to feel like home again. To think he was here, pumping me for information. I know he was set up, Rose explained that all, but still.”

The Doctor licked his lips, and Rose’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing. Just… Jackie, can I make it up to you?”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed, darting between the Doctor and the TARDIS. “How?” she asked suspiciously. “You don’t mean in that thing, do you?”

“I do. Trust me?” He stood, extending his hand to her, and after an agonizing few seconds Jackie reached out, hand shaking.

“I don’t want to go to an alien planet,” she warned, as she and Rose stood.

“Deal.”

“I don’t want any trouble.”

“I told you, that’s just the bits in between,” he protested, leading them both inside the console room. Rose shut the door, wrapping her arm around her mother’s waist as they took flight. “I think you’ll like this.”

“Where are we going?” Rose asked, watching him carefully.

“Shush.”

They landed with a gentle thump, and he darted around them to the doors, stepping outside. Rose and Jackie exchanged glances, but stayed in place.

Five minutes later he was back, whistling, sending them flying again. “Right, should be good. Ready?” Removing his overcoat and leaving it on the strut by the door, he bounced on his toes in anticipation.

“No,” Jackie shook her head, but moved towards the door anyway.

“Any heads up?” Rose asked as they joined him at the bottom of the ramp, and he frowned.

“Erm, one second.” He cracked open the door and a wall of noise came through before he turned around, giving them a thumbs up and big grin. “Follow me. And wear this.” He quickly looped a lanyard over each of their heads, taking Rose’s hand and tugging her along. “Come on!”

They stepped out into a concrete hallway, making Rose instantly suspect they were in some sort of stadium or arena. The amount of noise was unreal, music and cheering, and Rose glanced at her mother to see her smiling briefly.

“Move, Tylers,” the Doctor ordered, half-running down the corridor, “or we’ll miss it!”

“What’s ‘it’?” Jackie asked, but he ignored her, hustling them through dozens of people until they were in the wings of a large stage, currently empty but set up with a piano, drum set, and microphone and guitar stands. “Where are we?”

Rose looked around eyes wide, taking in the thousands of people in the crowd and frowning as it looked vaguely familiar. “Wait, why-”

“Oh, Doctor, you made it!” a woman cried, and she turned to find a blonde hugging the Doctor, two men accompanying her.

He hugged her back, sweeping her off her feet for only a moment before setting her back down. “Mary! Of course I did, thanks so much for the passes.”

The crowd went wild then, increasing in pitch as Rose couldn’t believe, and she turned back to the stage to see four men run out and wave.

“Oh my God!” her mother gasped, fumbling for her hand, and they held tight to each other in disbelief.

A blonde jogged behind the drums, two darked haired men with guitars arrayed themselves on either side, and though all were upbeat, the most energetic was the fourth member. Dressed in a white wifebeater with a studded armband and incredibly pale high-waisted blue jeans, he bounded across the stage pumping up the crowd as his bandmates took their places.

“That’s Freddie fucking Mercury,” Jackie shouted in Rose’s ear. “What-”

“Look,” Rose pointed to the banner behind the drumset, a gigantic guitar with the base of it shaped as Africa, the name of the concert written in the stem.

Tears pooled in Jackie’s eyes, and they clung to each other as the man himself settled at the piano and began to play.

They and the other seventy-two thousand odd occupants of Wembley Stadium sang along.

“Mama. Just killed a man…”

When the set ended twenty minutes later, they were in tears, arms wrapped around each other as the music faded out and the cheers took over.

“You good?” the Doctor murmured in Rose’s ear, and she glanced up as he took her free hand in his.

“Mum? You good to go?” She had to shout to be heard, and Jackie turned, looking heart broken.

“Do we have to? Who’s next?”

“David Bowie, but not for more than half an hour. Right now Simple Minds should be taking the stage in Philadelphia. That’s the band name, to be clear, not a criticism. Well…”

Rose elbowed him sharply.

“Oh.” Jackie looked disappointed, glancing at the stage then back. “All right.”

The Doctor nodded, starting to lead them away past the three others including the woman who’d known him, and Rose stopped dead.

“Come on,” he tugged her along, even as Rose looked over her shoulder.

“But that’s Mary Austin!”

“I know, I know, but technically we’re not supposed to be here.”

They wound their way back through the corridors, and this time Rose kept her eyes peeled for famous musicians.

He hustled them into the TARDIS, shutting the door firmly and heading for the controls, Rose naturally following him only to turn at the head of the ramp and watch her mother stare at the doors.

“Mum? You all right?” Glancing at the Doctor she returned to Jackie, gently touching her shoulder. “Mum?”

“Is this what it’s like?” she whispered, slowly turning to face her. “You just… pop back in time and watch a concert that happened twenty years ago like it’s nothing?”

Rose nodded. “Yes. I mean, sometimes things come up and we go somewhere else instead, but… I was in the audience when The Beatles first performed on Ed Sullivan. I saw Elvis there as well, eventually. Royal weddings, Houdini escaping from a box underwater… Future, past. I haven’t seen all of it, but I’ve seen plenty. And it’s amazing, Mum, just like this. Just like today.”

Jackie sniffled, wiping at her tears, heading up the ramp to where the Doctor waited nervously. “How did you know?”

“Know?”

“What that performance would mean to me?”

The Doctor glanced nervously at Rose, biting his lip. “Does she know about…”

“About what?” Rose crinkled her nose.

“Reapers?”

“Oh. Oh! Yes.”

“What are reapers?” Jackie asked, but he merely waved his hand.

“Not important. As you know, or Rose says you do, we went back and met Pete.”

Her mother let out a shaky breath but only nodded.

The Doctor shrugged, rocking on his heel. “I think… he knew he was on borrowed time, and was just… talking, you know? He mentioned that your very first date you spent sitting in a pub, watching the concert. Did I overstep? If so, I’m sorry, I just thought…”

Rose watched her mother carefully as she stared at the nervous Time Lord, waiting with bated breath.

After a long moment Jackie nodded sharply, smiling. “Thank you.” She threw her arms around the Doctor, who accepted the hug mostly out of confusion.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for not slapping me.”

She gave a teary laugh, leaning back and wiping her eyes. “Take me home, or I will.”

“Done!”

He lunged for the controls as Rose stepped up to her mother, and they enveloped each other in a hug.

“It’ll be okay,” Rose whispered, squeezing her tight.

“I know.” Her mother kissed her forehead, sighing. “This thing is still weird, though. You sure you don’t want to leave it and come home?”

“Mum!”

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #10xRose #Tenth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Jackie Tyler #Queen #Freddie Mercury #Live Aid #concert #When Jackie Saw Queen

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cyb-by-lang · 6 years ago

Text

Shell Game (27/?)

Kei takes on her second opponent of the tournament.

GreenThumb: look at our purple kid go

GreenThumb: no form whatsofuckingever

GreenThumb: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

GreenThumb: we tried

TMNT-TNT: We trained for only two weeks. I don’t think even he expected to win.

Defib: Not bad for an amateur.

Defib: He didn’t hurt himself.

TMNT-TNT: No, instead he got hurt.

Defib: One of us concussed themselves while trying more than one move they weren’t ready for. It’s not entirely new.

There was a brief pause as her boys probably got into a fistfight in the apartment. Hopefully, Obito would make sure to avoid breaking anything and actually dispose of the knife he’d likely carried back with him. Or sent to Konoha. Maybe they’d stop using kunai when the next weapon development upgrade finally rolled out. Kei appreciated the spade-derived design of kunai, but there were only so many ways a diamond-shaped blade could really be used.

Kei wasn’t holding her breath, though.

She did hope Obito and Kakashi were taking it easy, though. They hadn’t quite managed to explain exactly how much chakra they’d burned in the fight with Stain, but Kakashi didn’t exactly have a ton to spare.

Defib: Speaking of fights, though, what are you going to do for the next round?

Defib: I realize the explosion kid is a personal affront. I just don’t see why you ought to progress any further in this tournament from a logical standpoint.

GreenThumb: coolness factor (≡^∇\\≡)

Defib: No.

GreenThumb: i know i know

GreenThumb: i promise we wont make fun of you for losing

GreenThumb: if you make it cool

Defib: If you can do that with less than half of your skills. But more seriously, you have to avoid advancing. You have too much to do to stay in the spotlight now.

There was a pause from Obito. Kakashi had said his piece.

Kei pressed her lips together as she thought about pocketing her phone. Shinsō was limping toward the tunnel, so she had to hurry if she wanted to meet him before he went to see Recovery Girl.

Homura was still kind of on fire. Kei could probably do something about that, but there was this thing about not using Quirks outside of the actual fights…

So, Kei kept messing with her phone as she slipped toward the door.

GreenThumb: so how is she gonna do that

GreenThumb: he uses EXPLOSIONS (´ω｀)ﾉ━━※

GreenThumb: the second she has him hes dead

TMNT-TNT: I could…just do my thing. And walk out of the arena.

TMNT-TNT: It doesn’t actually matter what happens in the ring as long as one of us ends up out of bounds.

Defib: If you think that would work.

Defib: Go ahead. Be a Nara.

TMNT-TNT: I’m not that clever.

GreenThumb: u sure

TMNT-TNT: Uh, yeah.

Defib: I meant more about being lazy.

GreenThumb: …

GreenThumb: i mean (;￣ー\\川

TMNT-TNT: I love you both, but that’s the worst pep talk ever.

Defib: We try.

GreenThumb: good luck! (*￣▽\\)d

Kei escaped the 1-C box as soon as Homura’s hair was back under control and she was busy issuing a dozen apologies to the part of the audience she’d scared. The class rep couldn’t tell her to stop running in the halls if she didn’t get caught. And she didn’t really plan on listening to anybody else. Not even pro heroes.

Her speed was set to Nyoom.

It didn’t take her long to find who she was looking for. “Shinsō-san!”

Shinsō had his left arm half zipped into his gym uniform, as though that would help much with a dislocation. Then again, Kei hardly knew how common first aid lessons were in Japan. At the very least, Shinsō could walk around without totally screwing up his injuries. And while a Yamaguchi-sensei-derived instinct prodded at the back of Kei’s mind, she figured the lady with the magic healing Quirk would help Shinsō faster than she could.

“Thanks,” Shinsō said in a strained voice. Kei’s focus was still on how his arm really didn’t look good.

Then his words registered and Kei stopped short of trying to manipulate his arm into a more comfortable position, keeping the impulse to a vague twitch in her fingers. With confusion probably plain on her face, she asked, “For what?”

“There’s no way I would’ve lasted that long without all the training I’ve been doing,” Shinsō told her, as the pair of them continued to walk toward the nurse’s office. “So, thanks for helping me.”

“Training doesn’t mean much without follow-through.” Kei held out her hand for a fist-bump. “You did great.”

“My arm’s disagreeing with you,” Shinsō muttered, but his ears were a little pink. Probably not from pain. The kid didn’t get enough praise. And he looked at the fist she’d raised as though he had no idea what to do with it. “Um.”

Kei bumped his right hand anyway, though her boys would’ve called it a sad excuse for a friendly gesture. “Then get to Recovery Girl before you get mobbed by fans. I think Shingetsu-san isn’t going to keep them off you forever.”

Shinsō reddened further. “I don’t have fans.”

“You do now,” Kei insisted. Then she snapped her fingers, as though a thought had just occurred to her. “Oh, by the way…”

Shinsō hesitated. Something in her tone was letting him know there was a catch to the positive attitude Kei was throwing his way, and there was. Amazing he could pay attention that well with a dislocated shoulder, really.

Kei took a deep breath. “Don’t pull a Midoriya ever again if you can avoid it. That was way too close.”

“Don’t have to tell me that twice.” Shinsō’s eyes darted toward the ceiling for a split second. “Is he still up there?”

“Last I checked, yes.”

Shinsō frowned faintly. With a glance at his arm and a near-silent groan, he finally said, “I’ll keep an eye out for him. You should concentrate on your match.”

Kei sketched a lazy salute before she passed Shinsō and headed down to the arena once again. “Get yourself taken care of, Shinsō-san. I’ll worry about Splodey.”

Kei strolled into the arena for the umpteenth time that day, stretching slowly as she went. Chakra pulsed through her system in time with her heartbeat. At a glance, her level expression probably communicated quiet determination in the face of one of the most difficult fights in the tournament. Bakugō’s tenacity was already the talk of the town. Any normal competitor would be quaking in their gym shoes. Or at least considering the fight more seriously.

Kei didn’t really care.

Her conversation with Obito and Kakashi had taken the somewhat self-imposed competitive weight off her shoulders and replaced it with a different one. Rather than debating herself in circles, she had to lose.

At least it makes things simpler.

There is that.

Kei was not a strategic genius. She’d given up on making the loss convincing, because her acting skills were hit or miss and Bakugō wasn’t as inexperienced as some of the other competitors were. No, instead she’d just show “what she was made of.”

Hooray.

Bakugō trooped to the middle of the concrete stage with about the same aggression toward life as he ever did. Kei didn’t know him well, but she wasn’t sure how much different her impression would be even if she did. Bakugō just seemed the kind of person to act like everybody and everything had resulted in him waking up on the wrong side of the bed today. Every day.

“And here we are again, folks,” Present Mic began, his voice booming across the arena. “It’s the final match to determine which of our awesome first-year students will be making it to the top four! There’s only one spot left, so 1-A’s Bakugō and 1-C’s Gekkō are gonna have to break out the big guns to secure a semifinal fight against 1-C’s Shinsō!”

Kei hadn’t missed the announcer addition to her life one bit. She and Isobu did well enough on their own merits without an fancy Quirk or PA system.

“Let’s have a good clean game, both of you.” Kayama-sensei’s warnings were falling on deaf ears practically before she finished a single word. She didn’t seem to really care. “Or not! Make it a good match. If you have to get down and dirty to pull victory from your opponent’s gnarled claws, do it!”

Thanks for that, Kei thought in a dry tone. I’m sure we’re just in this for a jolly good time, by Jove.

What was that accent?

I don’t even know.

“Give it all you’ve got,” Bakugō growled. His palms were already sparking orange and spitting smoke, and his red eyes were locked on hers. “I’m gonna crush you anyway.”

Kei sized him up. Shorter than her by a few centimeters, but athletic, aggressive, and more than capable of changing tactics on the fly, going by his match with Uraraka. His Quirk was powerful, versatile, and frankly something Kei should have thought of when designing her fake personal history.

Stomp him into the ground.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Bakugō’s eyes narrowed. “Got nothing to say?”

Not to you. Kei just shrugged, her hands stuck in her pockets and her attention already starting to wander a bit. More than usual, anyway. Might as well continue this joke now that it was established. Bakugō’s opinion didn’t matter to her either.

Kei was done with the entire damn tournament.

“Begin!” Kayama-sensei shouted.

Bakugō charged, as Kei knew he would. Right haymaker, fingers extended to use his Quirk—

The distinctive funnel-shaped burst of the Water Trumpet jutsu hit him full in the face and forced him to a stop. Bakugō hit the ground knees-first, sputtering, and had to block the bulk of the blast with his back and shoulders to stay on his feet and coherent.

The uniform pockets weren’t quite reality-breaking enough to form full sets of hand seals without revealing one’s movements, but one-handed seals were fine. And Kei didn’t need both hands to spit water like a decapitated fire hydrant at this level.

Kei dropped the ninjutsu a couple of seconds later, turning her head to the side to spit out the leftover water. She wiped her mouth on her forearm and didn’t take her eyes off Bakugō, now looking like a drenched cat with twice as much fight in him. But those red eyes were calculating, and fast.

He couldn’t use his Quirk without being able to sweat.

“And just like that, Bakugō and Gekkō are at a standstill!” Present Mic could stand to be less of a ham. “I don’t think Gekkō broke a sweat keeping Bakugō at arm’s length, but how long can she really keep that up?”

Bakugō’s palms gave off a couple of futile-sounding pops as though to answer the question. He bared his teeth. “You’ve been holding back for this entire competition.”

Kei shrugged again.

“Don’t play dumb with me, you fucking Gen Studies reject,” Bakugō snarled, his voice lower and even more threatening. His hair exploded back into place, providing a neat summation of why Kei’s “Quirk” wouldn’t keep him doused forever. “You didn’t fight Stupid Hair like you meant it. You didn’t give a shit during the qualifiers. And if you don’t think half the fucking audience didn’t recognize your martial arts training, you’re fooling yourself.”

Kei didn’t really care. Barely humoring him, she prompted, “And your point is…?”

“I don’t care what your fucking issues are,” Bakugō told her. “But don’t you fucking dare come at me with anything but your best, or I’ll hand you your ass on a silver platter.”

“Scary.” Kei’s dull tone made it clear exactly how much Bakugō’s pride mattered to her, but she took her other hand out of her pocket. She held both of them up in plain view, then pointedly raised two fingers in a “come at me” gesture Obito and Gai were both fond of. “Prove you’re not all talk.”

Bakugō was quick to meet her challenge, no matter how unenthusiastic she was. His palms shot sparks constantly, until the worst of the damp was evaporated. And then he was after her again, skin blackening with soot here and there as the smoke he produced clung to his skin.

Kei made another highly telegraphed hand seal. Water Release: Hidden Mist Jutsu.

“Not again!” Present Mic screeched as the entire battlefield disappeared at Kei’s command. “Gekkō, we need to have a talk about your clear problem with the media! We actually want the camera fiends to have fun here, same as everyone else!”

Bakugō was nearly as loud, and he didn’t have the excuse of a speaker system backing him up. The gist of his arguments regarding mist, visibility, and Kei’s fighting style could be summed up as: “Fuck you, you goddamn extra!”

Kei dodged better than Uraraka or Shinsō could on their best days. Wherever Bakugō was, she wasn’t. She danced circles around one of the most adept fighters in the tournament, slipping in and out of mingled smoke and gray fog she produced on a whim as though she was born to it. He could punch as many holes in the mist as he liked—it wasn’t going anywhere as long as Kei wanted it to stay.

She also blasted him with water again and again, which seemed to succeed mainly in making him angrier.

Water Trumpet, Kei thought, and Bakugō screamed in rage as his attack vanished under the fine spray of mist he’d made out of her attack.

“Use something other than your Quirk, you hack!”

Wild Water Wave, was the next round, and Bakugō was forced to run away from the bulk of the blast before it could swirl up and nab him.

The mist glowed with each blast, because even as she tried to make sure Bakugō’s nitroglycerin stayed in low concentrations, Kei was keeping close track of everything. The substance was ludicrously unstable in its pure form and quite powerful, but it was also oily. Yes, she could basically render him ineffective without hurting him as long as she kept blasting him, but it was a waste of chakra when he was going to accumulate nitroglycerin anyway. Just more slowly.

Still, he was going to run out of stamina before he defeated her mist if he kept up the pace for much longer.

Bakugō lost his temper and most of his restraint in one go. “HOWITZER IMPACT!”

Unless he did that, Kei supposed.

“And there goes Gekkō’s camera-defying mist! Now that we can finally get a look at our contenders, it seems like Bakugō’s become something the cat dragged in. Backwards, and through a puddle!” Present Mic didn’t quite laugh at his own joke. “Gekkō’s about the same as we left her, somehow. Guess this match is starting to heat up.”

Kei had left the majority of the fight to mid- and long-range techniques. But with the majority of her mist dissipated by raw force and her in plain view, it seemed like it was finally time to properly escalate.

“Wrong,” said Aizawa.

Bakugō’s hands were trembling. While he wouldn’t have admitted it under torture, the kid was getting tired. He was pushing himself harder than before, wasn’t he?

Kei’s eyes narrowed. Any fight, eventually, got to the point where it all broke down. Fatigue and injuries took over, and sooner or later everyone dropped. Her endurance was literally superhuman, but she hadn’t hinted that way. She’d been hoping to lay a trail of breadcrumbs to imply she was reaching her limits, too, but now…

Fuck it. Kei started making hand seals again. She didn’t strictly need them, but sometimes it was best to put on a show anyway.

“I’m not done yet!” Bakugō roared, and charged again. His movements were rougher and wilder as exhaustion started to set in.

Kei completed her seal sequence. Water Release: Great Waterfall Technique.

That was the thought in her mind and the power in her hands, at least. However, she didn’t channel the jutsu into its customary doom spiral of sheer overkill. Water leapt up from the ground as though to form the twister, but it just kept going. Drawn by her chakra and Isobu’s just behind it, hundreds of thousands of gallons of water crashed into the arena and doused the braziers, barely avoiding Cementoss and Kayama-sensei as Kei exerted her will on reality.

Bakugō was caught by the rush not two meters from Kei’s face, and he disappeared into it with a wordless yell.

So did Kei, even with her hands still locked in the last seal form. The waterspout snatched her up with all the mercy of a heron to a fish, swallowing her whole.

Inside the death spiral, at least she couldn’t hear Present Mic yelling anymore. Kicking off into the sunlight-streaked mass of whirling water and air pockets, Kei swam for the top. At the same time, a crack of her chakra caused almost every other drop of water in the immediate area to freeze in place almost as though Todoroki had willed it. Suddenly, the weight of the structure was entirely on Kei’s will.

Kei broke the surface and blinked, looking around across a changed arena. Where once there’d been a proper waterspout, the stadium was actually fairly dry. It was just that, within the painted boundary lines, it was like someone had emptied a perfectly shaped gelatin mold exactly on the stage’s dimensions. It wobbled when Kayama-sensei touched it or Cementoss tried moving the base, but it was all water.

“Our arena’s become an aquarium in no seconds flat!” Present Mic really needed to stop talking. Kei wasn’t interested. “How is Bakugō going to get out of this one? Can the tenacity of a high school student and young hero overcome the laws of physics?!”

Bakugō was stuck almost in the middle of it, so Kei loosened her control a bit. In an instant, he kicked his way up toward the surface too.

Kei was just a bit faster. And when she put her hands on the water, she pulled herself out with no handholds but surface tension—as interpreted by chakra exercises, at least. Water walking had never been designed to be exploited quite like this.

“She can walk on water?!"

Bakugō did his best to explode his way out of the giant water cube. Once he was able to breathe again, it should’ve been simple.

Except for the bit where Kei was crouching next to him, her shoes perched on the surface.

She didn’t say, “How’s this for holding back?”

She didn’t say, “Looks like you’re all washed up.”

Instead, she thought, Water Prison.

Water spiraled off from the cube, swirling up and around Bakugō to trap him in a soundproof, inescapable cage. While the Water Prison technique was one Kei had learned solely to break it properly from the inside, and to avoid allowing her experiences to become traumas, it had a bit of utility. And, when connected to a larger body of water, it kept Bakugō’s nitroglycerin from building up to weaponized levels.

Kei started cycling the water from the cube in and through the Water Prison. Doing so quickly drained the cube and lowered them toward the ground as her power shifted mass around, dispersing everything toward the sad and much-abused lawn around the ring.

Bakugō, from inside the bubble, looked like he wanted to murder her and wear her ribcage as a hat. As soon as he wasn’t under the threat of drowning.

Standard-pattern humans could only hold their breath for about five minutes in ideal conditions. Including training regimens.

If she wanted, Kei could bring the match to an end now. Or wait for Bakugō to pass out.

“Can he move?” Kayama-sensei asked, once Kei’s feet touched tile again. It wasn’t like Bakugō was in a position to hear her.

Kei didn’t immediately answer. Instead, she started backing toward the edge of the stage. In the bubble, Bakugō’s arms and legs strained as he tried struggling in his liquid hell. A stream of bubbles escaped his mouth.

If Kakashi couldn’t break out of this on his own, as an adult shinobi with almost twenty years of experience, then Bakugō didn’t have a chance.

Kei ripped her arm out of the Water Prison before Kayama-sensei could ask again, deliver a verdict, or even say a single word. The bubble collapsed with a sad little splat, dropping a drenched Bakugō to the floor.

His eyes were wild with fury.

Kei favored him with a mocking salute. “I think I’ve made my point.”

And Kei stepped backward off the edge of the cement platform, landing on top of water thirty centimeters deep just as the drainage system seemed to finally catch up. The more distance she put between herself and the arena, the closer to the grass she got.

The crowd and the announcers erupted in a mass of solid noise , helped along by Present Mic as always.

“I—I don’t believe it!” Present Mic was always the loudest. Went with the territory. “Gekkō’s forfeiting the match! She had Bakugō on the ropes and walked out of bounds!”

“Gekkō is out of bounds! Bakugō is the winner!” Kayama-sensei roared.

“F—” Bakugō had to stop and cough, but his heaving breaths let him get out, “FUCK YOU!” with impressive speed. “GET THE FUCK BACK IN HERE, YOU ASS-KISSING DOORMAT!”

Nope, Kei thought, and walked into the exit tunnel without a backward glance.

#Shell Game #Keisuke Gekko #bakugou katsuki #Kakashi Hatake #Obito Uchiha #shinsou hitoshi

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abrunettefangirlnerd · 6 years ago

Text

Wont Stop

Prompt: You are the newest recruit for the Avengers. Your room is right next to the Winter Soldier, and since being here you are awaken by the sound of Bucky restless after his nightmares. One night you decide to go in to check if he’s okay.

Part: 1/5

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Slight mention of abuse

Word Count: 1619

After being recruited a month ago, Avenger headquarters started to feel like home. Of course the team played a big part in this. Steve was the one who brought me in after I nearly drowned him. That’s my power, or curse as some would call it, hydrokinesis. I can manipulate water, yes a lot like Katara from Avatar the Last Airbender but not as glamorous.

Ever since getting here almost everyone was eager to welcome me in, almost everyone. Bucky, also known as the Winter Soldier, didn’t seem so thrilled upon my arrival. As a matter of fact he’s still not, most of the time he keeps to his room when he’s not training. Nat told me to not take it personally, he usually doesn’t interact with anyone but Steve.

“Hey Steve, will Bucky be joining us for training today?” I asked with a joking smile, already knowing the answer.

“Not today, (Y/N).” Steve sets down his water. “He didn’t sleep well last night.”

A involuntary snort escapes me as my feet assume a fighting stance. Bucky never sleeps well, he is constantly waking up from some sort of nightmare. Other than his name, the constant nightmares are the only thing I know about him.

Being predictable, Steve starts with a punch that I easily block and proceed to hit him in the gut. Not doing anything to him, Steve easily takes me down with a kick to my knee.

While sparing Steve doesn’t want me to use my powers, which is completely unfair because he gets to use his. My figures tingle as they will for the water in Steve’s bottle. Knowing what I’m planning to do Steve shoots me a warning look as he pins my body to the ground.

“No powers (Y/N).” Steve teases.

“Scared Rogers?” I snarl. “It’s only water.”

In that instant not just the water from the bottle comes to my aid, but some of the water from the lake just outside the window. The glass that was once keeping us separated from outside now lays in pieces on the floor.

“(Y/N)!” Steve shouts.

My eyes grow wide as they take in the chaos. Water is everywhere, leaving Steve soaking wet along with the floor mixed with the remaining glass. I spring to my feet and assess the damage. Not even sure of me saying sorry I turn on my heal and race away from the scene. Steve’s voice present in my ears as he take off shouting after me, but his voice seems distant as though I am underwater too.

Not noticing where I am going, not really caring, my body hits what seems to be a wall. Looking up did my eyes realize I did not hit a wall but a person, our eyes connecting together like magnets. They are dark, mysterious, and holy captivating. A cool chill of shivers runs up my body as we just stand there gazing.

“Buck,” Steve breathes, hunching over with his hands on his knees. “Would you please tell (Y/N) not to try and drown me next time?”

Bucky shoots a puzzling look my way, almost questioning if it is even possible I could. My stubborn nature instantly courses a challenge through my veins. I’ll prove him wrong, someday if I can get more than 5 seconds with him.

“Stark needs to see you.” Whatever expression Bucky once had is now wiped clean, along with your presence in the room. “He said it was important.” Yup, I’m completely invisible.

Steve gives a nod saying his goodbye as he runs toward Tony’s lab. This leaves you alone with Bucky, which always caused the air in the room to thin. After standing there shifting his weight for another minute he saunters off down the hall to his room.

“Good to see to you too.” You shout as he closes his door with a thud.

Regaining focus you walk into the kitchen for a glass of water. Once in there you are greeted by Thor and Bruce, who are once again trying to explain who won their pervious fight on a different planet. Thor’s hands go flying as he recreates what happened in the arena, while at the same time trying to keep Bruce calm so he doesn’t Hulk out.

“Are you two ever going to let this go?” I huff resting my head on the palm of my hand. “It doesn’t even matter. Bruce you were in this environment for a long time, and Thor you were trying to protect yourself. You two are friends and made it out of there together.”

“Yeah but I-” Thor starts again but I cut him off with my hand.

“Stop, I beg of you.” Puffing my lower lip out for affect. “It gives me a migraine, so drop it.”

“Ouch, look at who woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Nat says walking in.

She grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and stands next to Bruce. I’m not quite sure what is going on between them. Nat gives him the flirty butterfly eyes every time he’s in the room, but I can’t figure out of Bruce is ignoring it or just happens to be that oblivious. Nat told me that he is afraid of hurting her, but she called bullshit on that a long time ago. There is nothing more he can do to hurt her that hasn’t already been done.

Nighttime came a lot sooner than expected, as it does almost every day. About every night I’m woken up by Bucky, though I can’t give him and his nightmares all the credit. My body is practically programed to wake up at certain times throughout the night and to small noises – just like when I was growing up – if that’s what we want to call it.

“No no no!” My ears ring on my pillow.

It’s not like it’s loud or anything, but this is all I hear night after night so given it has been a month it’s almost expected of me to have a negative reaction. Though tonight something feels strange. I was already up, having been awoke by my own nightmare, but my heart almost aches for Bucky tonight.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always felt for the guy. I know what it’s like to have a past that was easy to forget. I had an abusive dad who thankfully passed while I was still young, leaving me with my aunt who later dumped me on the streets. At the age of 10 I was on my own, I struggled with my powers, finding food, fought with other homeless people, and had one hell of a time trying to keep from getting sick.

Without much thought I pull a hoodie over my head and walk out of my room. Trying to be as quiet as possible my toes land me right in front of his door. I can hear my heart racing in my ears. What if he can hear it too?

“Bucky.” You whisper as loud as you can. “It’s me, (Y/N).”

“What do you want?” He seethes opening the door just enough for me to see his face.

“I just… I just wanted to – to,” all sense of words stumbled out of my brain just for this moment. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.” I slowly ease out.

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together but he slowly inches the door slightly open allowing me entrance to his room. My eyes scan the area. Like everyone else there is a bed and a table with a lamp next to it, but that’s it. Other than his arm laying across the little table there isn’t anything else in the room. Kinda odd for someone who used to live before and during World War II.

“It’s all gone.” His raspy voice causes me to jump. “My stuff, it was all lost when I was. No one keeps the things of a dead man.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” he interrupts me with a shake of the head. “So what were you dreaming about?”

Clearly this was the wrong choice of words. Bucky’s expression goes nonexistent again, he just looks numb. There is no indication that he will speak. Good job (Y/N), you got him talking but had to go screw it up. Quickly apologizing the room falls silent as my eyes stare at him sitting on the bed.

“You don’t have to tell me, I understand having a past you’d rather forget.” Still no answer, but at least his eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Why don’t you like me?” The words come rushing out.

Probably not the best choice of words either but at least I get more of a reaction out of him. If my eyes aren’t betraying me I could have sworn I saw a smile spread across his face for a split second. God if only he would do that more often. He doesn’t seems as terrifying and intense when he loosens up.

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” he begins. “You just have a way of making me feel uneasy.”

Heat rises to my cheeks as I hide my face hoping he doesn’t notice. A little smile plays on my lips as my heart starts racing once more. Turning back around to face him I can tell by his eyes that he noticed his effect on me.

“Well I hope it’s not in a bad way,” I say plopping down next to him. “We fight alongside each other.”

“No,” he pauses. “Nothing like that.”

“Good.” I rise back to my feet and attempt to tower over him. “Because I have hopes in becoming really good friends.”

Next >

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #Barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #Bucky #Bucky Barnes #Sebastian stan #Sebastian Stan x Reader #fanfic #avengers #training #avatar the last airbender #abilities #love

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spacegaysss · 6 years ago

Text

Evolve

Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

All these years I've been searching

Of who I'm supposed to be

All that time I've been wasting

It was right in front of me

Ella wakes up feeling like she hasn’t slept at all, but she still makes her way out of bed quickly. Somehow, she’s terrified that she might be late on this crucial day. It’s a bit silly, but she’s paranoid when it comes to being tardy to important events. So Ella hurries into the kitchen to prepare a quick breakfast and look for the biggest cup of coffee she can find.

Just as she’s about to take the first tentative sip of the life giving brew though, Ella gets interrupted by her phone ringing. Slipping and sliding to her bedroom quickly on her fuzzy socks – she cannot sleep without them, especially in winter- she plucks her phone from the nightstand to answer it.

“Hi, Ella, do you have a moment to talk?”, greets her boss from the other end of the line. “Uhm, sure, what’s up?”, Ella asks hesitantly, feeling a sense of dread coming over her. Did she do something wrong? Is she not going to the game after all?

“I’m not calling you at seven in the morning to reprimand you or anything, Ella, so don’t worry. But there’s been a – very minor- complication and I need your assistance. I’m sure you know about the dinner tonight after the game, yeah? It’s for UEFA’s new anti-discrimination campaign. Well, I actually planned on taking Paulina and Sebastian with me, I don’t think you’ve met him yet, he’s been a part of the team for over two years now. Well, he had to cancel at the very last minute, in fact, I just got off the phone with him. Sebastian fell while walking his dog earlier this morning - the streets are wickedly slippery- and he twisted his ankle quite badly. Now he’s at the ER and he probably won’t be able to walk for a while”, Mr. Wolf sounds erratic and his explanation is all over the place. This might be the first time Ella experiences her boss lose his calm and positive attitude since she first met him.

“So, why I’m calling: Ella, could you please accompany Paulina and me to the charity dinner tonight? I know it’s a lot to ask of you and that it’s only your second day, but there’s no need to feel overwhelmed right now, ok?” The dread that befell Ella when she picked up the phone comes back in full force. Mr. Wolf is still talking to her and tries to calm her and to tell her that the whole thing is going to be a cake walk, but she feels like she’s underwater and can’t hear or say anything at the moment.

“Ella, are you still there? Please tell me you didn’t spontaneously collapse or anything”, Mr. Wolf tries to joke and chuckles quietly, snapping her out of her stupor.

“Yes, yes of course I’m still here. What does going to the dinner even entail? Is there a dress code? What would we have to do there?”, Ella fires all of her questions at her boss in rapid fire succession.

“How about we talk about all of that when you come into the office. You should probably come in earlier if you can make it. I’m actually on my way out right now. Listen, there’s no need to panic, all right? It’s all going to be fine, I promise.” And with that, Mr. Wolf hangs up and leaves Ella in the eerie quiet of her bedroom.

It only takes a second for her to kick into overdrive though, hurriedly grabbing clothes from her closet, getting dressed and doing her makeup as fast as she can. She fills her coffee into a travel cup, grabs an apple and a banana from the fruit bowl – she’ll have to get an actual breakfast later- and storms out of the door.

Ella makes it to the office in record time and barges through Mr. Wolf’s door at exactly eight o’clock. He looks up from his computer when Ella makes her noisy entrance and motions for her to sit down on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Ella, I’m genuinely sorry to put you through so much stress this early in the morning, but my hands were tied. I needed to replace Sebastian and I know you can do it.” Well at least he believes in her because she’s not exactly confident that she can make it through this day and even worse: this night.

“Alright, let’s get to business. The dinner starts at nine, that’s why the game starts at six, by the way. There’s nothing to really do before that. You and Paulina are obviously going to be at the stadium anyway. It’s best if you prepare everything- your dress and whatnot- now, so that you can just go home, get ready and get to the Four Seasons straight after the game. At the dinner we’ll obviously have to coordinate the content that’s going to be released, which includes our social media channels as well as the press. Does that answer all your questions?”

“Sure, thank you. There’s a dress code, right? It needs to be formal?”, Ella inquires, just to be sure. “Yeah, but not too much, I guess. It’s a formal dinner, but try not to look like you’re walking the red carpet at the Oscar’s.” Mr. Wolf’s instructions are terribly vague but Ella doesn’t want to ask again and look like a moron. So she just makes sure yesterday’s plan hasn’t changed and goes to her office to prepare everything for the game.

About an hour later, Paulina almost flies through the door and towards their joined desks. “Ella! Mr. Wolf just told me you’re coming to the UEFA dinner! That’s amazing! We’re going to have so much fun!” She’s obviously a lot more ecstatic about the change of plans and Ella can’t help but to feel a little giddy herself. But there’s still one thing that needs to be done.

“Is there something urgent you need to get to right now, or do you have an hour to spare?”, Ella asks a little hesitantly. She doesn’t want to hold up her colleague from any important tasks, but she really needs her help.

“Not that I know of, I think we’re well prepared for tonight”, Paulina has a knowing smile on her lips when she answers her question. “Well, I’m glad to hear that, because I need to buy a dress like yesterday ”

About one and a half hours later, the girls are back from their shopping excursion. Ella bought a dress that’s hopefully appropriate for the occasion while still being fun and even found a pair of matching heels. Now they need to go downstairs to take a couple photos while the team prepares for tonight. After that, they’ll change into their jerseys - Ella still needs to go and try hers on- and make their way over to the Allianz Arena so that they can meet the professional photographers and talk things through.

The time just flies by and before Ella can work herself up too much, her and Paulina are in front of the stadium in their club issued puffer jackets and Adidas shoes- Ella didn’t even know that she needs to wear sponsored clothing to a game- and watch the team’s arrival. Everything is going smoothly. Paulina is filming the players leaving the bus and Ella is waiting in the catacombs with another camera. Fortunately, that’s all the filming and picture taking they have to do since there are professional photographers that cover the games.

After everyone’s passed by Ella, she is supposed to meet Paulina out on the pitch, but unfortunately no one told her where to go exactly. So she looks around and tries to find signs or maybe a plan of the stadium to figure out the way. Ella really doesn’t want to be in anyone’s way and she’s also pretty sure that she’s not supposed to walk through the player tunnel, right?

After 15 minutes of helplessly looking around, she just takes the first corridor that leads away from where she came and makes her way further into the catacombs. She walks for about ten minutes, but Ella has the feeling that she’s not really getting anywhere, so she takes a few turns.

After the third dead end she hits, Ella stops for a moment to take a deep breath. There’s no need to freak out now, she tells herself over and over until she’s not feeling like she’s going to start crying any second. After a minute of trying to calm herself like that, she walks back the way she came but takes a different turn this time.

Just as she walks around the corner, she bumps into someone. Well, actually it’s two someones. Ella hurries to apologize for not paying attention to where she was going, but when she sees who she just ran into, she freezes in shock.

In front of her are the captains of Real Madrid- one of her favorite teams- locked in a passionate embrace. Though as soon as they fully realize what’s going on- that they’ve so casually been found out- they take a hasty step apart.

Iker Casillas blinks at Ella a little owlishly while he tries to get his hair in order. Sergio Ramos- the destroyer of Casillas’ neat hairstyle- jumped back towards the other side of the hallway and is now talking in what sounds like rapid fire Spanish. Ella’s not sure if it’s directed at her or his captain.

Trying to make sense of the situation, Ella starts talking in English. They have to at least understand that, right? “I’m sorry I bumped into you, I should’ve been paying attention to where I was going.”

Casillas also seems to have snapped out of his paralyzed state, because he’s quick to answer her: “Don’t worry about it, we were… clearly in the way.” He actually smiles at her a little sheepishly. Ramos on the other hand doesn’t look like he’s calmed down.

Luckily, his captain seems to notice his agitation and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder before he keeps talking. “What are you doing here anyway? There’s really nothing but kit rooms and a janitor’s closet down here.”

Oh right, Ella still needs to get to the pitch somehow. “I’m working for Bayern München’s PR department” she points to her badge “and was actually looking for the way out onto the pitch. It’s my first time down here and I… well, I got lost.”

Ramos chuckles at that, looking a little more relaxed. “We can show you the way out if you want.” Ella nods and thanks them. But there’s still a heavy tension in the air. Ella did just walk in on them making out after all.

Should she say something? Maybe that she’s completely fine with it and that she won’t tell anyone? Now that she thinks about it, the situation doesn’t really surprise her. Everyone knows that the two captains kiss before every game, Ella just didn’t know to what extent.

She has to giggle at her train of thought, it’s actually quite funny. Casillas looks at her questioningly while he leads them down the hall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask for your name”, he says apologetically. “Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t the first thing on my mind either. I’m Ella. It’s nice to meet you.” Now that the situation seems somewhat resolved, she’s getting really giddy. She’s actually meeting the captains of one of her favorite teams!

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ella. I’m Iker, the idiot over there is Sergio. He talks a lot more, usually.” Ca- Iker is shaking her hand, ever the gentleman. When Sergio shows no intention to repeat the gesture, he punches him on the arm.

“Ow, that hurts”, pouts the center back, but he shakes Ella’s hand as well. Then he turns to Iker and puts a 100 watt smile on, which makes the captain roll his eyes. But he still can’t keep the smirk off his face. As the odd trio continues on its way outside, Ella tries to pay attention to where they’re going, she really doesn’t want to get lost a second time.

It actually just takes a few turns and in about three minutes, the three of them step out onto the pitch. Ella’s relieved to have finally made it and turns to thank her companions for showing her the way. But before she can do anything else, a bit of a flurry starts around her. Confused, Ella watches on as James, who must’ve already been out here warming up, is cheerily jumping into Sergio’s arms. Well, he did mention that he misses his old teammates.

Since Ella doesn’t want to disrupt their little reunion, she turns around and looks for Paulina. Her colleague is sitting on the bench and is furiously tapping away on a tablet. Ella sits down next to her to figure out if there’s anything they need to do before the game starts, but Paulina assures her that she’s got it so far. The photographers have already started taking pictures of the warm up and the two of them will just have to go through them later to upload a few to Twitter and Instagram.

It’s a weird feeling to be right next to the pitch while everyone is getting ready for the game, Ella thinks. The stadium looks even more huge in this perspective. Her and Paulina have just uploaded all the pictures to the official social media accounts when the bench next to them fills with more staff, the trainer team and the players who aren’t in the starting eleven. Ella didn’t even realize that it’s almost six already, but the game’s actually about to start.

Hey y’all! Finally some Madridistas, am I right? I just couldn’t help myself, I had to squeeze some Seriker in there ;) Well, I hope you all enoyed this chapter coz the next ones are gonna be dripping in drama and pining. Feedback is always appreciated!

#fc bayern münchen imagine #real madrid imagine #soccer imagine #football imagine #football fanfiction #soccer fanfiction #fanfiction #james rodriguez fanfiction #marco asensio fanfiction #james rodriguez imagine #marco asensio imagine #my writing

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ruffsficstuffplace · 6 years ago

Text

The Viridian Vanguard (Part 32)

Elsewhere in the Grove during the duels, Weiss was in her nest, Penny snuggled up to her chest, Cheese and Winter’s summons around her for company, menial tasks, and/or food as she watched holos through Penny’s projector. (The quality was far superior than her comm-crystal’s.)

“I feel it… the purity of their love…!” screamed the monster of the week. “This is it… the power, of YURI!”

A wave of purple-black miasma shot out of the monster, washing over the convention floor, reality itself beginning to warp and change as bright, prismatic energy was sucked out of them.

Hina gasped. “Akane, Aoi, look! All the couples, the anime and manga, even the doujins and the fan art—they’re all losing their gayness!”

“You monster!” Aoi screamed. “Do you know how long that slow-burn was between Diya and Nene?! This is an affront to all of Girls Love!”

“You’re going down, Yarama!” Akane screamed as she whipped out her spear, Hina and Aoi doing the same with their weapons.

“Piper, this show is so fucking stupid...” Weiss muttered.

“Would you like to change to something else?” Penny asked through an annotation on the holo.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t enjoying it!” Weiss said.

A fight sequence began, the tables and displays being torn up and destroyed from the empowered monster, the heroes trying their best to spare the panicked, confused convention goers, and the merchandise, too, if they could help it.

“Face it, Spiral Hearts!” the Yarama cried. “The power of women loving women is just too strong!”

“That is true…” Hina replied “… but it’s not as strong as the true fans of yuri, those who make and support new content for fans everywhere, not filthy parasites like you! Akane! Aoi!”

“On it!” they both cried, before they all joined their weapons into one giant cannon. “For the love of all that makes our lives worth living… SPIRAL PIERCER…!”

The projection suddenly stopped, Penny’s eyes flashing green.

“What happened?” Weiss asked amid the disappointed growls and groans of the summons.

“It seems there was a serious accident during Jaune and Pyrrha’s training!” Penny replied, untangling herself from Weiss’ arm, then hovering towards the window. “I’m afraid my medical expertise is needed on-site, apologies, Weiss.”

“Don’t you just have first-aid equipment right now?” Weiss asked as she sat up.

“Yes, but I still have my treatment database, patient history, and high-precision scanners,” Penny replied. “I’ll inform you of any new developments as soon as I can!”

Weiss sighed, frowning as she watched Penny fly out the window and out of sight. One of Winter’s summons gently prodded her on the side, and gestured to her comm-crystal charging on a dock in the corner; she turned to them and shook her head. “You’ll have to find out what happens next later, I’ve got a hunch I need to investigate,” she said as she stood up. “Help me get dressed, everyone!”

The summon sighed, before everyone available either fetched Weiss’ garments from the closet, or helped her put it on. “Cheese, you’re coming with me,” Weiss said as she scooped what remained of him from his plate, now just a small blob no bigger than her hand.

“I’m heading out to the training grounds!” Weiss said as she passed by Winter in the living room.

“Don’t try to squeeze in more exercise when you’re supposed to be recovering, I really did mean that was the only time I’d carry you back!” Winter replied, not looking up from the Nivian-Actaeon book she was reading.

“I won’t, sheesh! It’s been what, four years since that happened?” Weiss said as she opened the door.

“I know you, Weiss, it takes a long while for you to give up on something you’ve put your mind to,” Winter replied as she turned the page.

Weiss shook her head as she shut the door behind her, called for the elevator before taking a bite out of Cheese.

He was down to just his soulstone by the time she arrived, by which point Jaune was securely strapped to a spine board and being carried away by Taiyang and Nora, Ren and Penny following them with medical supplies.

Futher away, Yang was on a bench, comforting the rather glum looking Pyrrha sitting beside her. After a few moment’s consideration, Weiss stepped over and asked, “May I ask what the hell happened to Jaune this time?”

“We were dueling, and I accidentally threw him far harder and further than I intended,” Pyrrha replied. “His landing was… ugly.”

“Should I…?” Weiss asked uneasily.

“In short: he looked a human pretzel,” Yang said. “Just so you know, the un-pretzeling process wasn’t pretty, either.”

“Uh... huh...” Weiss mumbled. “Do you need me to stay, or should I just leave…?” she asked, thumbing behind her.

“If your brain is functioning enough again for Pit Fighter business, sure!” Yang said.

“I’ve made quite a lot of progress on the weapon choice front, it’d be a shame to waste this time,” Pyrrha added.

Weiss nodded, and sat down with them. “So how’s it going, exactly?”

“If we’re being thorough about it, I’m halfway through the process,” Pyrrha replied. “I still haven’t explored any of the Fae firearms that weren’t almost-complete replicas of AFA armaments, but now I know for sure that I have a solid idea of what I’m looking for in melee weapons.”

“And what would that be?” Weiss asked.

“Something versatile with reach, coupled with a shield and elemental mediums for an all-rounded offense or defense,” Pyrrha replied. “Weiss’ temporarily limited powers aside, both of you are highly specialized fighters, and I’d rather not lose a good chunk of our effectiveness, or expose glaring weaknesses in our defenses should one of you be downed, or otherwise indisposed. Whether it’s defending against attacks from any range, leading a charge into our enemies, or wreaking some elemental havoc, I’ll be ready for it.

“That being said, I haven’t seen what Fae ranged weapons can bring to the table, and if the melee weapons were any indication, they should be quite the learning experience.”

“You should probably join us at the firing range later, Weiss!” Yang said. “Get a feel for how the Fae deal death from a distance.”

“I’d rather not,” Weiss replied. “After all that training at the Terrace, my arms will definitely become too sore to even hold a gun as soon as I’m hit the recoil.”

“I meant in a mental, tactical sense, see what you might go up against in person!” Yang replied. “You’ve barely seen anyone really use a ranged weapon outside of all-out war where tracking who fired what was the least of your worries. Plus, the special ammo will give you a great idea of what happens when you mix elements up—nothing wrong with your using pure, but you miss out on useful things like Melty Wash that way.”

“’Melty Wash…?’” Weiss asked.

“Melty Wash,” Yang repeated, nodding. “It sounds just as stupid in Actaeon, don’t worry.” She winced as her stomach growled. “Ugh, all this drama made me forget how hungry I am—come on, let’s go get some grub and a nap, then on to lighting shit up!” she said, getting up.

Weiss shrugged. “Alright, fine, I’ll go!” she said as she hopped up. “I figured I needed to get out of bed and do something productive today, anyway...”

Jaune was left in the cabin he bunked in, Taiyang and Penny stayed behind to take care of him and keep him company. Everyone else had lunch and rested a while, before discussing Pyrrha’s firearms training.

As elementally-infused ammo, alchemical grenades, chemical weapons and the like needed to be specially ordered by and used under the supervision of a senior watcher or other qualified individual, and Qrow was far too drunk at the moment, they started out with the standard Fae firearms.

In contrast to the practical, sleek, and streamlined AFA guns Pyrrha was used to, the Fae practically made it a point to have their guns as flashy and embellished as possible. Every one of them seemed to have as many engravings, stylized components, and decorations as they could possibly add without compromising function too much, like an iron sight made out of some long-dead predator’s skull, the gun barrel coming out of its jaws

Metal and wood were the materials of choice for most of them, all manner of colours, grains, and sheen from the varieties, mixtures, and treatments, with the rest of the parts made from bone, rock, crystal, plant fibers, and whatever else the Fae could get their hands or hand-equivalents on. There was barely any built-in magitech to be seen, no small-form targeting systems, recoil adjusters, or ammo management systems, just physical springs, levers, hammers, revolvers, and whatever else.

And almost all of them were powerful, even the quietest guns having massive impact.

Thip. Crack. Thip. Crack. Thip. Crack.

Pyrrha fired her “Fang Gun” into a log target, each bone projectile lodging an inch or two deep into the wood, splinters flying out from the holes, the cracks clearly audible to Weiss even as she watched from well away to the side.

She stopped after six shots, putting her rifle down and massaging her arms. “Not the kind of gun you fire just for fun, is this?” she asked Ren.

“Not unless your idea of ‘fun’ is accuracy competitions, or clean hunting kills,” Ren replied calmly. “Shall we focus on lower-caliber weapons that are easier to fire for sustained periods, such as repeaters? Most every Fae firearm hits the user almost as hard as they do the target.”

“No,” Pyrrha replied, picking the gun back up, and aiming for a farther target. “I suppose I’ll just have to learn to make every single shot a hit from here on out!”

Ren nodded. “One well-placed bullet’s all you really need, most of the time.”

“And the rest?” Pyrrha asked.

Ren smiled. “Two bullets.”

After Pyrrha started getting used to the intense recoil, and firing far less frequently than she would have with human guns, they started planning which weapons she was to try out, how she was going to test them out, and who would be involved.

Everyone except Weiss donned a set of armour; a small arena was built by a copse of smaller trees with the help of deployable cover, ballistic shields, and the foliage; and several dozen crates of ammo were carted out of storage, their contents transferred to smaller boxes set around the area, or to loaded into all manner of belts, bags, and quivers just waiting to be strapped on.

Before Pyrrha’s first live-fire exercise, however, Ren wanted to demonstrate how Fae opponents would be using firearms themselves, exchanging his usual sickles for two “Shredders,” Fae-style SMGs.

“The first thing you need know is, except for heavy weapons like Hailstorm cannons or extreme long-distance weapons like Shardslingers and Farslingers, Fae tend to prefer shooting on the move, and most can shoot quite accurately and survive getting shot at also,” Ren said as he loaded one of his guns with a clip.

He dashed towards some training dummies, shredding their canvas coverings with short, accurate burts. He maneuvered around their cover and shot them from behind, slid on the ground to slip through tiny gaps and holes in defenses, even leaped off a ledge and fired the last of his clip in mid-air.

“Predicting your enemies movements and firing where they will be in a second is a helpful skill in lower ranks, and absolutely vital as you move up,” he said as landed, pulled out his second shredder and loaded them both.

“The second is that, thanks to our biology and engineering advancements, dual-wielding guns isn’t as stupid and dangerous idea to us Fae as it is to you humans,” Ren said as he adjusted the stocks, shortening them and fitting them over his forearms. “In fact, it’s actually quite popular inside the Pits, both as a stylistic choice and a significant combat advantage.”

He calmly crossed a bridge lined with target dummies, both guns blazing and ripping apart targets on both sides, casually bending his arms further and more dramatically than any human could to shoot behind his back, over his shoulders, and even under his leg.

“And the third and arguably the most important is: we Fae are far, far more mobile and agile than any of you are right now, or will be in the immediate future, so do consider any way your enemies can outmaneuver and flank you,” Ren said as he holstered one gun, replaced the empty clip with a drum magazine.

He moved towards one of the “bases” in the arena, a tight cluster of trees with platforms rising up two stories above him, a small sniper’s nest on the third. Several dummies stood behind cover, well-protected from any shots angled upwards, free to pump Ren full of bullets if they were actually armed and alive.

Then Ren started jumping from branch to branch, running up and along the trunk and the walls, swinging from the ropes or running on top of the ziplines, raining metal hell down on all of them from above and behind.

Ren zipped down from the base, gracefully landing back down to the ground. He unloaded the empty drum, turned over to Pyrrha and Weiss said, “Generally speaking, never forget to look up. Now, any questions or concerns?”

“None,” Pyrrha said, smiling as she put on her helmet. “Let’s get shooting.”

“Oh yeah!” Nora cried as she shot out of her seat. “We about to get all John Woo up in here!”

Note: Aside from the tendency for special ammo and the like to deteriorate over time, to the point of being unusable or dangerous to use, it’s also expensive to produce, and capable of causing severe injuries to folks and damage to property that oftentimes require urgent, specialized treatment, thus the many hurdles to legally acquiring and using them. Due to the nature of the Keeper and her team, restrictions are a bit looser and relatively easier, but not by much.

The shardslinger is the non-elemental version of the farslinger. Though they use many similar designs, the key difference is in the loading mechanism and the insides of the barrels, with the latter being specially treated and much, much, MUCH more expensive, to be able to handle the severe wear of high-power elemental mediums. It’s not unknown for substandard barrels to simply explode or melt during stress testing.

This chapter was coded “Shooty Shooty Bang Bang.” The next chapter is coded “John Woo-ing It Up In Here.”

#white rose #rwby #fanfic #the viridian vanguard

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