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honestlyfrance · 3 years ago

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SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS

it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more!

enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull

Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.

Philopatry by Areiton

"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo

Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.

In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama

“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.

I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee

Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg

“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.

two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead

Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.

at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess

Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.

Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.

Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg

Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."

We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender

Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)

__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'

Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."

love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg

Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare

With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."

flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis

Sam enjoyed his job, really.

But, not when a certain person came in.

A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys

He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.

You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.

A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.

Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM

Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.

and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg

"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

"No."

"Captain Canary?"

"Hell no."

"The Winged Avenger?"

"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

***

Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.

He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis

Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake

See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—

Oh. Oh.

Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.

stay where we belong by glittercake

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."

Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"

He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"

Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies

It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.

Years in the making by glittercake

Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.

Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.

If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD

Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.

if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime

Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”

How right he was.

***

Sam dies. Bucky mourns.

Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam

There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.

Baked With Love by Siancore

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam

Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.

“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.

make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard

The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.

safe like spring time by quidhitch

“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”

Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.

“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.

Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody

Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.

lucky by CapnWinghead

In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.

not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard

They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.

So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote

Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.

Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.

we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore

Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.

They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow

When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.

Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter

Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.

Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.

i'm gone by bi_marvel

After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

The Starting Line by birdlight

A Series

Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness

The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.

in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick

“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.

Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.

Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb

"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi

Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.

Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam

Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.

Sam decides it's about time to come out.

Kings of Everything by glittercake

Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

arson we commit by winterscaptsam

Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.

So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.

“What’s your damage, doll?”

Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.

The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24

Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?

Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123

“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.

Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”

Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance

There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.

Gay cowboy proposal.

Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.

neverending; by glittercake

Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.

Lighthouse by glittercake

This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.

He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.

But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.

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#onlysambucky #sambucky #fysbfriday #fysambuckyweek #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #france: fic rec #fic rec #sam x bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes

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annonymouslyblonde · 3 years ago

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The Monster Was Mortal

Fandom: PJO/HOO

Pairing: Percy x Annabeth

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

Trigger warning: Descriptions of child abuse

Rating: T for language and description of child abuse

Summary: Set about two months after TLO. Instead of going back to camp or California for a long holiday weekend, Annabeth stays at the Jackson/Blofish apartment and ends up learning something new about Percy.

A scream filled the small apartment, waking Annabeth at a quarter till three in the morning. It was a scream that she knew well and still sent her heart plummeting to her toes. Percy. She snatched her knife from the bedside table, prepared to single-handedly take down whatever monster was tormenting him. The door hit the wall with a thud as Annabeth dropped into a fighting stance. But there was nothing there for her to slash at. In the dark, it took a moment for her to see Percy huddled in the corner of his room. With no monster to fight, she sheathed the dagger setting it on his desk.

"Percy," she asked, frightened by the way he stared straight through her. She dropped to her knees in front of him and tried to take grab his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" He shouted and pushed her hand away, curling further into his corner. "Don't hurt me."

Annabeth recoiled, hurt and scared. Why would he think she'd hurt him? She was at a loss for what to do. Sally quietly came into the room having also been woken up with the screaming. Waking up to her son's nightmares was unfortunately not a new occurrence. Annabeth slid back to sit against his bed giving Sally space. Numb, she watched the woman gently cradle Percy's face turning his gaze toward her. The vacant look in his eyes made Annabeth queasy.

“Sweetheart,” Sally gently called as if she were speaking to a cornered animal. “You're okay. He isn't here anymore. He's gone and he'll never hurt you again. We won't hurt you okay? Annabeth isn't going to hurt you.”

“Annabeth?” he asked finally seeing her clearly. She sank to her knees beside Sally and reached a hand out hoping he didn't smack it away this time. He clutched her to him, shaking and crying.

Annabeth thought it must have been a quest vision, a bad one, but Sally knew the differences in her son's nightmares. After a light kiss to the top of his head, she stepped out of the room knowing the conversation the pair needed to have. Percy told her weeks ago of his intention to tell Annabeth about Gabe one day, but the relationship was still new despite all the things they had faced together, despite knowing each other for four years. He was still a little afraid and embarrassed by what happened to him no matter how many times Sally assured him it wasn't his fault. It broke her heart her baby had to do this at all.

His sobs slowed to sniffles against her shoulder. Realizing he must have woken up half the building, his cheeks flushed.

“I'm sorry I woke you up,” he mumbled, trying to pull away. Her fingers laced through his dark hair in a soothing gesture, keeping him close to her.

“No, Percy, you don't have to apologize. But why did you think I'd hurt you?” She tried to keep her voice even, but the pain and desperation still seeped in. “I would never hurt you, not on purpose. You know that right?”

Percy of course did know that. There were plenty of bruises and scrapes from sparing practice, but neither would ever intentionally inflict pain on the other. His grip tightened around the fabric of her shirt, painfully aware there would be no walking this back.

“It wasn't you I thought would hurt me.” Silence permeated the space as the couple clung to each other. After another calming breath, he admitted “I thought Gabe was still here.”

“Gabe? Smelly Gabe?” she asked not understanding why Percy would have a nightmare about him. He nodded mutely against her collar.

Suddenly, Annabeth realized she didn't know much about his former stepfather. She knew the nickname Smelly Gabe and that he was no longer in the picture, but nothing more. Her mind was turning, processing the information that Percy was afraid, deathly afraid of this man.

“You thought that Gabe was here and gonna hurt you.” It came out as a statement instead of a question. The pieces all clicked together in Annabeth's mind. Her sweet, kind, wonderful Percy had been abused as a child.

“He used to hit me.” He confirmed needing to finally tell someone. For years, he tried masking the trauma through sarcasm and jokes. Letting Annabeth see this side would be a big step, one he didn't know how she'd react to. The carefully crafted persona he had hidden behind for years would never fit again around her.

“A lot,” he continued. “If something didn't go his way it was my fault somehow. He lost his poker game or get fired from a job. So he'd take his anger out on me. With his fists or a belt. Sometimes beer bottles.”

Annabeth's vision blurred into swirls of red. Blood red. Gabe's vile red blood spilled for even touching her boyfriend. She had heard of the metaphor of seeing red but had never experienced that type of all-consuming rage before. Her whole body tensed looking for the threat, ready to cut it down. Instead, she clutched Percy closer assuring herself that he was safe in her arms. She would make sure he was safe.

“My nightmare was about him. He came back and had me down on the ground kicking me. And suddenly it was like I was six again and couldn't do anything but try and protect my head.”

Bile rose in her throat as she clinched the back of his shirt trying to control her rage. Six. Percy remembered being kicked by a full-grown man at six years old. Annabeth had faced a lot of monsters in her sixteen years, but nothing as vile as this despicable mortal. If he was willing to kick a six-year-old, she couldn't bear to speculate what he may have done to Percy as he got older and more willful. She wasn't sure if mortals could end up in Tartarus, but she prayed to Hades this one did.

“It's kinda funny,” he laughed slightly manic against her neck. Annabeth couldn't see anything funny relating to this situation, but she didn't interrupt choosing instead to place an encouraging kiss on his temple. “I can't even remember which monsters gave me what scars, but I remember every mark Gabe ever gave me.”

She wanted to scream and lash out at whoever let this happen to him but instead decided to redirect the anger into comfort. Subconsciously, her fingers found a scar that ran the length of his bicep, gently tracing the puckered skin.

“Monster,” he murmured, and she knew this would be how she could get him to open up and tell her the details.

“He's a monster too,” she insisted. The beast of a man was more monster than the ones they fought with celestial bronze in her opinion. Monsters were born to hunt and kill demigods. This man chose violence and pain.

“Fine, Greek,” he conceded too tired to argue, especially not when he agreed.

She nodded approving of the term. Her fingers drifted down to a cluster of small circular marks on his forearm. The muscle stiffened under her touch, but he told her how the scars came to be.

“Cigarette,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “I didn't dump his ashtray the night before so he said I'd be his new ash tray.”

“How old were you?” As soon as she asked, Annabeth wished she hadn't. It didn't matter how old he was. Putting a lit cigarette out on someone of any age was horrendous.

“Four,” he whispered, burying his face into her shoulder. She very well almost stopped there unsure if she was strong enough to hear this. But then Percy shuddered and fisted the fabric at her back. He needed her then, and she wouldn't back down. He needed to unburden himself, and he was choosing to confide in her. So she continued, her fingers dancing across his skin until she came to a scar. They spent an hour like that until all the visible scars were cataloged.

Her hand trailed timidly down to the hem of his shirt. She had seen scars on his back and chest before at camp, chalking it up to monster attacks, but now she questioned everything she knew. When he gave her the smallest nod pressing his head down into her shoulder, she slid her hands under his shirt. At first, she simply pressed her palms to his Achilles heel hoping to lend some strength and comfort. After a long moment, his grip on her shirt lessened, and she continued her search across his back.

As he opened up at each gentle touch, the flood gate widened, rushing to purge his soul of the poison he had bottled up for years. Just as she thought there wasn't room for any more scars, he guided her hand back to a set of slash marks across his ribs that she had missed, where the broken edges of a beer bottle had cut into the skin.

Once the last scar was accounted for, they continued sitting on the floor of his room wrapped in each other's embrace. Her hands lay clasped at the small of his back as he continued telling her about the abuse, about the incidents that didn't leave a visible mark on him. He told her about the time Gabe knocked him unconscious after tossing him too hard into a wall. And the time the man broke his nose by throwing a book Percy had left on the kitchen table before a poker night. The words flowed from his lips like a spring rushing to leave as quickly as possible. Stories he had long forgotten came to the surface, ones he hadn't even told his mom about. The way her fingers gently kneaded into his lower back and the frequent kisses she pressed into his hair comforted him in a way he hadn't felt before. Once he finished telling her about what he knew Gabe would do to him for wrecking his car, Percy didn't quite know what else to say.

“Annabeth,” he asked, quiet and meek. The brokenness of his voice pierced her heart. “Please. Say something,” he begged.

“I'm gonna murder him,” Annabeth confessed with the confidence of a girl who had stared down Titans and won. “I'm gonna kill him for ever laying a hand on you.”

“You aren't ashamed of me? Hero of Olympus and I let some mortal bast-”

Her lips fell on his silencing him. He clutched her to him, kissing her with a desperation he hadn't felt since Silena had called telling him to bring a healer for her during the Titan War. His hand gripped her pulling her tightly against him and pressing into her own lower back, the same spot as his Achilles heel. The warmth of his hand against her exposed skin was the most comforting gesture she'd ever experienced making her wonder if that was the feeling she gave him every time her hand touched his back. Slowly, she backed out of the kiss stroking his cheek, her intense gaze penetrating his soul.

“You didn’t let him do anything. You were a kid, Percy. He was an adult, a parent figure in your life, someone you should have been able to trust and feel safe with. And, gods, you were just a kid. My stepmother never liked me, but I never felt unsafe with her. I can't even imagine.”

She pulled Percy back to her, clinging to him. Someone had hurt her precious seaweed brain when he was defenseless, and it made her sick that she hadn't been able to protect him. Anger couldn't quite cover the feeling boiling in her blood. Nine years of combat training and she wanted nothing more than to use every bit of it on this scum.

“I know you have questions,” he sighed reluctantly pulling away to look at her. Her face was flushed from anger, and tears swelled in her eyes. He hated being the one to put that look of mixed concern and anger on her beautiful face. “It's okay. I owe you answers.”

For once, and she would never admit it aloud, Annabeth wasn't sure she wanted answers. Her mouth worked up and down, searching for questions that wouldn't come.

“You don't owe me anything. You don't have to say anything you don't want to.”

“I want to,” he assured her, taking her hands in his. “I mean, I want you to ask whatever you want to know.”

“Why did you never tell me?” she whispered, asking the question that hurt the most. It wasn't that she thought he owed her anything, but after opening up to him, to only him, about her own family life, it stung to think he hadn't trusted her with this. As soon as she thought it, she swallowed the idea guiltily. It was selfish to think she was entitled to know that part of him just because she had opened up to him about her own trauma. She did think now, however, he would have been comfortable enough with her to tell her.

“How do you even start a conversation like that? 'Hey Annabeth, it's been a month since I survived my death date, wanna hear about my bastard ex-stepfather that used to beat the shit out of me? I think it's a good second date conversation.' Doesn't exactly pair well with dinner and movie, does it?”

“Percy-”

“I know,” he sighed wearily giving her hands an apologetic squeeze. “I know. I should have- I just. I never knew how. I almost told you in the zoo truck but then we stopped by the time I got the courage. And when I got back again, well he was gone. It was over. I wasn't trying to keep it from you, I swear. It just never came up until now.”

Another thought, a worry, suddenly made her stomach drop. She dropped one of his hands to traced his cheek.

“When I've punched you or teased, I wasn't. I mean I hope I didn't-”

“Annabeth I know you were just messing with me. I never took it as anything but that, promise. So don't you dare stop calling me Seaweed Brain now, Wise Girl.” He gave her a smile that melted her worries. Of course, he would be trying to make her feel better in a time like this.

“Well, in that case, Seaweed brain, we should probably get off the floor,” she suggested.

Until she mentioned it, Percy hadn't registered they had been sitting on the floor of his room the entire time. Somehow, it felt like an appropriate place for the early morning confession, oddly intimate and undisturbed. But, his back didn't necessarily agree, stiff from sitting cross-legged on the floor for however long had passed. And if he was stiff even in his invincible skin, he knew it must be worse for Annabeth.

She slowly pushed herself up before offering a hand to him pulling him up with her. After urging him into his bed, she crawled in beside him and pulled him back into her arms, not quite ready to let go. Her fingers raked through his smooth locks almost habitually. It truly amazed her how easily things came with Percy. The repetitive motion satisfied her ADHD enough to let her mind kick into overdrive and process the last few hours.

Percy had been through more than she could even imagine, more than ever should have been asked of him. Being the key component in a Titan war couldn't be enough for the Fates. Suffering through four years of non-stop quests wasn't bad enough. Her sweet, caring boyfriend had to go through such a harsh mortal childhood to add to the already crushing pressures of being a demigod. Suddenly, her fingers stilled as another question came unbarring to mind. He called her name, nervous at how suddenly she tensed.

The girl spared a nervous glance to the hall before asking, “Did your mom know?”

“I think she suspected a time or two, but I never told her. Gabe said he'd kill her if I ever told anyone. I wasn't taking that chance.”

“I don't understand why she would let him stay if she even thought he might be hurting you,” she murmured, glancing nervously again toward the door.

Nothing about it made sense. Annabeth loved Sally, even wishing to have her as a mother or stepmother instead, and she knew the woman adored her son. Allowing Gabe to stay when he was hurting her son was something Annabeth couldn't rationalize with the Sally that made cookies whenever she came by and fussed over them both after every quest.

“She was protecting me from monsters,” Percy quietly explained. “Gabe, his smell-”

“Repelled monsters. It hid your scent,” she finished for him. “I've read about that. Some mortals are so monstrous themselves, their scent can actually repel monsters. That's how you stayed hidden for so long even as a big three kid.” The confused anger morphed into marvel at Sally's brilliance, protecting her son how she could. Even as terrible as it was, the abuse was likely the only thing that kept Percy alive all those years.

“He would hit her too,” he said in defense of his mom. “Broke her wrist once that I know of not that she'd tell me it was him. I only know of a few times, but I'm sure she got it worse since she had to always be here with him. I tried to get him to stop, but there wasn't much I could do when I was at boarding school. And once I knew I was a half-blood, knew how to defend myself. Well, she turned him into stone. Remember Medusa's head? Dad apparently returned to sender. ”

Suddenly Annabeth had a deeper appreciation for her boyfriend's mother. She always knew the woman was strong, but this was a different level of strength. Annabeth hoped one day to be half the woman Sally Jackson was.

As his breathing evened out, she pressed a kiss to his head and tried to detangled herself to go back to bed. As she slid her legs over the side of the bed, his arms wrapped around her painfully tight pulling her back.

“Stay with me” he whispered timidly. She hesitated though.

“Percy that was your mom's only rule for me,” she protested, but the sad, broken look undid her completely. And it would be well worth the lecture just for that bright smile he flashed her when she told him to move over. His head nestled into the hollow of her shoulder as she continued stroking his dark hair. He was asleep in no time with his arms wrapped around Annabeth securing him to this better time.

And when Sally found Annabeth curled protectively around her son the next morning, she didn't have the heart to scold them at breakfast for breaking her single house rule. After the events of the previous night, she was glad Percy had found someone so fiercely protective as his girlfriend. She didn't have to worry about her baby boy when Annabeth had his back.

Now, of course, that didn't stop Sally from teasing the pair when they emerged from his room later that morning holding hands.

A/N: So this story has two pieces of art that helped inspire parts of it, one by WindByFire and the other by burgy so shout out to them for producing such amazing art!

If you'd like to see the pieces, they are posted on my IG by the same username (mainly because I am new on tumblr and don't know how to properly post and credit art here yet). Definitely go check out all of their artwork!

#percy x annabeth #percy jackson #percy and annabeth #annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fluff #pjo fanfic #pjo fandom #pjo stuff #writing #fanfic

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thedevildomdaily · 3 years ago

Text

Demonic Possessions Ch 9: Love Advice & Interior Design

Note: Here’s the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

I decided to make this chapter with more light banter and fun interactions and give the nephilim brothers some attention.

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW implied, light stuff this time ********************************

A couple weeks had passed. Construction on the attic was nearly complete. Lucifer and Azriel had negotiated a schedule in which the nephilim brothers would work on the attic bedroom for their sister. This helped avoid chaotic mornings, at least where the nephilim were concerned.

The overall mood of The House of Lamentation had shifted from the unease of having a new occupant amongst the Brothers and Lilly, to an odd sense of which the brothers had never experienced before. A shift in their dynamic as a family twisted due to a certain blossoming relationship.

Leviathan had become more outgoing and less reluctant in participating in events. He was more welcoming of everyone hanging around his room as well and his mood was less-likely to sour thanks to Lena. His brothers were happy for him, but it was an unusual experience for them as well. It was hard to ever find the two of them apart from each other.

“Thank you for doing my nails Asmo!” Lena chimed, “Your skills are amazing!”

Asmo grinned with brimming confidence, “Of course they are Leee-na. I’m an absolute master with nail art.”

“He’s also the best hair stylist.” Lilly chimed.

Asmodeus’s room had transformed into a spa for the two female residents and himself. The human was laying on his bed with a face mask and cucumbers over her eyes as her toe nails dried. Her hair was in a towel and she was completely relaxed as she sipped on her mimosa.

The nephilim had a peel on her face as she sat in a lavish chair while the demon painted a cute black cat on her accent nail. She too had her fill of mimosas as they relaxed from a week of cramming for a chapter test in alchemy. The math involved was exhausting, but she’d probably do well enough.

“Your brother is almost as bad as my old man when it comes to studying. I’m doing my best to be civil about it, but it’s getting on my nerves…”

Asmo gave a dramatic sigh, “If you think he’s bad now, wait until midterms. It’s a boot camp nightmare.” He then exchanged looks with Lilly as she peeked at them from her cucumber. He was underselling Lucifer’s regime.

“You know….” Asmo began with a sly voice, “I’m surprised Levi isn’t in here to get his nails painted…” Lena knew he was just baiting her at the mention of his brother. He wanted to open a dialogue to gossip about their relationship.

Shrugging, “I offered an invitation but Levi’s nails are still great from the last time you painted them. He’s also really engaged in a super hard game. The last time I saw him, Beel and Belphie were watching him battle a boss. It was getting intense in there…” It was also extremely cute, she thought.

“I’m just saying, given the fact that he’s the Avatar of Envy, I figured Levi to be a little more possessive and be following you around a lot more.” his younger brother admitted.

“Not gonna lie…” Lilly added, “I kinda anticipated that myself.” The brothers were all very possessive and it was easy to picture any one of them being like that. Well, Lucifer excluded. He was too damn cocky to believe anyone would stray from him ever.

Lena thought about it for a moment, ‘Well, I took your collective advice and talked directly with him when we went on that first date. I laid it all out for him: I’m not being held down to any single relationship. And in a kinder manner, that I basically don’t want to deal with jealousy. I’ve given up on monogamy….” he chuckled for a moment, “He actually compared me to you Asmo, and then asked if I wanted to start a reverse harem...and ya know what, I kinda like that idea haha!”

The other two blinked for a moment and joined in the laughter. “Pffft, that’s definitely a Levi-type of conclusion…” Lilly chuckled. She peeled the cucumbers off and ate them as she sat up. “It looks like you guys reached an amicable agreement then?”

The nephilim looked upward, clearly thinking about it for a moment. “We have. He agreed to an open relationship and to not be overly clingy with me. It’s beneficial to the both of u-”

“BOTH!?” Asmodeus interrupted, “Please explain!!?! Has my big, nerdy brother been hiding some secret affairs over these past few centuries?!” Why would it benefit the both of them, when only one of them has even been in multiple relationships?

“Oh, it’s quite simple really,” Lena chuckled, “His 2D waifus. I won’t ever complain about them or come between him and his fandom and I can have relationships with others as well. Besides, we’re immortal beings...forever is a realistic timeframe for us...why cling to each until we both become miserable? Monogamy hasn’t ever worked for any immortals I know...what about you?” Of course she was asking Asmo as he finished her last nail.

The demon shook his head as he released her hand and got his DDD ready to take pictures of his work for the gram. “Not that I’ve ever paid attention to it, I really can’t think of anyone...even angels drift apart and take loooooong breaks.”

“Well that’s a bit depressing….” Lilly mumbled.

“Oh, Lilly dear...don’t get depressed about it. It’s the beauty of humanity. You guys are far more capable of having a one, true love...not that you have to stick to it. It’s a valid option though.” She didn’t mean to depress the human. In her very long life, Lena had been in 100+ year relationships with various long-lived beings and it never seemed to work out. She was now trying this open relationship thing so that she didn’t feel tied-down or tired. She didn’t want anyone she was with to feel that way either.

“It’s all good. I was teasing for the most part.” Lilly smiled, “There’s only so many ways a person can spice things up and keep their relationship fresh; I’m sure an immortal couple could really struggle after a few centuries. It’s that case in my favorite vampire novel series anyways…”

Asmo didn’t comment on the matter. He couldn’t relate since he was loved by all and could charm anyone he wanted. He never for a moment considered a relationship because he could never love anyone more than himself.

“So, since you’ve found a way for things to work, have you guys……?” He smirked at the nephilim.

“ASMO!” Lily shouted. He merely chuckled.

“It’s none of your business…” Lena responded.

“That would be a solid ‘No’ then.” He quibbed. Lilly exchanged a look with him and nodded.

“Y’all are both horrible! It’s hard given he’s so reclusive and nervous. But also very cute….NO! I’m not talking with you guys about this, especially you Asmo. I’m not giving you any ammo to blackmail Levi…” She paused for a moment and contemplated, “I know he’s shy. But I also….”

“Also what?” Lilly blinked.

“I don’t know how to approach him. I’ve never been with a demon. Are you guys...very different for other beings?”

“Oh, you wanna see? Hmmmm?” Asmo teased. Or was he?

“Stop it!” Lilly smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Lena. You’re gonna have to make the first moves on Levi. Good news is there won’t be much effort you’d have to put into seducing him. It’s just finding the opportune moment when you’re feeling it.”

The girls both stared at Asmodeus for a moment.

“What? Is there something on my gorgeous face?” He immediately felt his pale, rosey cheeks.

“No, you’re just being surprisingly perceptive and giving profound advice on the matter.” Lilly said, “Lena should definitely wait until she feels right before taking the move. Like you said girl, you’ve got eternity. Take your time. Levi is a great guy and I know he’d never pressure you...”

Lena smiled and looked-up while thinking about him. “Yeah, he’s great. Special. I have so much fun with him. It’s nice to have someone interested in the same nerdy stuff as I am and not being picked-on about it 24/7.” Her last relationship went down like that. “When he blushes simply by me taking his hand, or how shocked he gets when I sneak behind him and wrap my arms around his waist...oooh... He’s too cute!!!!”

The nephilim squealed and shut her eyes hard thinking about her Levi-kun and the other two just laughed at her. Her responses to his cuteness just didn’t match her aesthetic at all and they found it hilarious to watch.

"Oh.." Lilly chimed in again, "They're 'normal' I guess."

Lena and Asmo blinked at the human for a moment.

"You asked if they were, ya know, compatible. I've had the horror of accidentally entering the men's bath when we went on a trip to a demonic hotspring before...I wanted to shove hot pokers in my eyes..." Lilly cringed.

"Oh, that's right! Lilly got to see me in all of my glory...jealous?" Asmo grinned.

The trio laughed and picked on each other all afternoon.

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

“Okay, we need a few more pieces of paneling. I want some nice filigree border work.” Azriel said to himself out loud as he took a step back to look at the progress made on his sister’s room.

Zak stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, as he watched his brother pace across the room. “Hey bro. It’s looking good. You really outdid yourself this time.” His siblings were super artsy, creative types. He couldn’t keep up with them on that. Instead, the middle sibling put any creativity into vehicle design and engineering. “Let’s take a break and go to Hell’s Kitchen for lunch. Then when we get back, you can spot anything else we need to do….”

“You do have a point. Let’s eat and come back with a new perspective…”

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

The nephilim brothers went for lunch, meeting up with Beelzabub and Belphegor. The twins were in the back corner, where the owner often put them so they weren’t a distraction for the other customers.

Belphegor had his arms folded on the table, propping his head up as he watched Beel chow down on ten burgers.

“Hey guys, can we join you?” Zak asked when he approached the demons.

“Sh--rr” Beel nodded as he wadded another large bite of food. Zak could have sworn the demon’s jaw had unhinged to take such a huge bite.

Azriel took a seat next to Beel. The two of them were the same height, though Azriel was much thinner, with more of a swimmer’s body then a body-builder’s. Zak sat by a groggy Belphie. They too, were the same height but different build. Zak liked to work out when he wasn’t working on a new engine.

“You guys about to finish remodeling?” Belphie asked with a yawn at the end, “I’m curious what you’ve done to my old...space.” Was it a bedroom or a prison? He didn’t know quite how to label the attic Lucifer kept him in.

Azri gave a pleasant smile, “Yes. It’s all coming along smoothly. Lena will be thrilled with it. It’s a touch of old european with her beloved gothic asethetic. She might not like the light-colored flooring, but it makes the space look bigger…” he went off into deep thought for a moment. Then, he saw some green in the corner of his eye and smiled, “excuse me for a moment…”

“Sorry, I swear Azri has ADHD or something...don’t mind him. ‘Creative Genius’ at work 24/7” Zak chuckled and looked at the menu.

“S’okay.” Belphie nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. “Sounds like you’ve had a lot of things to do. It’s nice putting in that effort for your little sibling.”

The twins and Zaksalamel chatted and ate their lunch, nearly forgetting that the elder nephilim had even came to Hell’s Kitchen. When he finally returned, there was an empty plate left at his spot.

“You shouldn’t have ordered and left when sitting by Beel…” Belphegor responded after seeing the shocked expression on Azri’s face. “Your food didn’t stand a chance...and apparently the napkin…”

“S-sorry….” Beel scratched the back of his head.

After a moment of silence, Azriel sighed, “it’s okay. That one was definitely on me….”

Zak noticed his brother’s cheeks get a little rosy. His mind was elsewhere clearly. What was he up to. “Hey, Devildom to Azriel...where’d you disappear to?”

“Oh, forgive my rudeness..again.” He suddenly returned to the conversation. “I just happened to see someone I know and asked for their opinion about the flooring choice…”

“Mmmh-hmmm…” Zak’s eyes narrowed at his brother, knowing there was something else to it. Azriel’s voice tone was suspicious. He’d leave it alone for now.

“So, anyways, I made the right decision, and I think we will be finished with everything in 2 days.” Azri clapped his hands together, chipper with the apparent results of the consultation he’d just had. “Beel, if you’d like to make it up to me for eating my highly-anticipated lunch, could you help carry furniture upstairs? You must be very careful…Lena is going to flip out when she sees it!”

As the four of them returned to the House of Lamentation together, Beel and Belphie walked some space behind the nephilim.

“They sure seem to care a lot about their sister to spend so much time on this room. I don’t think it was that bad..” Belphegor said quietly.

‘True. But, we’d do the same thing for our sister too. And that means Lilly as well…” Beelzebub nodded.

Agreeing, Belphegor let out a small sigh. He wasn’t sure about his own opinion of Lena so far. They didn’t start off on the best of terms. No, he’d admit that he behaved like a brat that day. But he never had the opportunity to get to know her or to apologize for his overreaction. Maybe he’d help with the furniture too?

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years ago

Text

To hold on, To let go.

Heather Bonus Chapter.

Summery: In which you get to sneak a peek into the life of Dr. Spencer Reid, and one Aaron Hotchner.

Words: 1.7k because I have absolutely no self control

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, light swearing, and the fruition of an opinion of mine that is kinda controversial in the fandom, but I said what I said, and I ain’t backing down from it

A/N: Hi. So, I thought I would have both this chapter and chapter 9 ready to go to post at relatively the same time, but I was up for 18 hours straight and crashed before I could. I woke up because I was hungry and decided to finish this. That being said, hopefully, I can get chapter 9 up for you guys at some point tomorrow. I’ve just been really tired is all, but I’ll push through because I love this series so much. Anyway, enjoy! Oh, also, I didn’t name this one after a lyric because it didn’t really fit, but its a bonus so its fine.

~~~~~

45% of marriages end in divorce.

Spencer knew this.

He knew the odds of his marriage to Heather ending badly.

He just didn’t think it would be this soon.

He had expected it to be years down the road, when his hair was turning gray and his time at the B.A.U was in the past.

He hadn’t expected it to fail in mere months.

He expected it to be because of his job, or the fact that no matter how hard Heather tried, she never could quite get him to open up about the demons residing in his head.

Not because she had been cheating on him.

He felt like an idiot.

The signs were all there.

The sudden disappearances, the nervous tics whenever he asked a question she could never quite answer.

What kind of profiler was he if he couldn’t even tell that his wife was cheating on him?

He sat at his desk, alone in the bullpen, the only noise in the room coming from the video playing on his phone before him.

He couldn’t stop playing it, even though it killed him to watch.

He paused and played back the very beginning over and over again, watching her kiss that man in a way he thought was only meant for him.

He felt sick.

Knowing her lips had been on that man's hours before coming home and kissing him.

Knowing they had sex, and than having her come home and beg to be fucked by him.

He started the video again, watching Heather, the way her hands balled into his shirt, the sound of her laugh at the person behind her.

Then, his eyes start to drift.

He starts it again, this time watching the anger radiate off of y/n.

It was almost palpable.

He couldn’t help the warmth swarm his chest, circling his heart before squeezing tightly.

She was fiery.

The way the words came from her chest, how her shoulders were straight and her chin was raised, filled his stomach with a sense of pride.

When she said she loved him, she meant it.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

His eyes shift to the card currently laying on top of the stack of divorce papers laying on his desk.

He knows he should have hidden it better.

Stuffed it in a thick book and placed it on a high shelf, somewhere she never would have thought to look.

He shouldn’t have even kept it.

With his memory, he could read it over and over again in his head, and Heather would be none the wiser.

But there was something about tracing his fingertips over the ink, feeling the indents of her words in the paper.

It was physical evidence, that after all these years of thinking she didn’t feel the same, that he was wrong.

She loves him, as he loves her.

Yes, loves.

Not loved.

Spencer Reid, is in love with y/n y/l/n.

However, he can’t say he doesn’t love Heather.

He had convinced himself that y/n hadn’t felt the same, and had all but given up hope. So when a pretty girl offered her number to him one morning at a coffee shop, he accepted, forcing himself to move on.

And for a while, he believed that he was happy.

But it doesn’t work like that.

There were too many sleepless nights, too many words unsaid that kept him from fully committing to Heather, even if on paper it looked like he worshiped the ground she walked on.

He shouldn’t have proposed.

He had hoped y/n would say something, call him a fool, be selfish and kiss him in the middle of the banquet hall, not caring about what other people thought because it was only them existing at that moment in time.

But she didn’t.

So he did.

It was selfish of him.

To want another girl, while one who had claimed to love him hung on his arm.

He shouldn’t have danced with her.

He should have just smiled and thanked her for coming, ignoring the pain registering in her eyes.

She was intoxicating though.

And even though it was his wedding, he needed to let her know.

Let her know that he loved her, and that even if he didn’t have a choice, he would always choose her.

He would go and catch her without a thought's hesitation.

Last week, he found out she understood.

God, this is a mess.

He rubs his face, resting his chin on his hand as he reads through the papers again. Should he sign them? Should he give themselves another chance? Or should he say fuck it? Heather had her chance, and in the process broke him. He didn’t think it was worth it.

A door above him opens.

“Reid, can I speak with you?”

It wasn’t weird for Hotch to stay late.

It was for Spencer.

But he didn’t want to go home, where Heather would be inevitably waiting to try and plead with him to not go through it, where another fight is waiting to be fought, and going to the one place he truly wanted to, felt wrong.

It would put y/n in a position he never wants to put her.

So he stayed, and rewatched the video, and reread the papers, until he felt his eyes droop, and his heart rate slow.

Hotch had spent the last few nights watching him.

He could relate to how Spencer was probably feeling, and he wasn’t about to stand back and watch like he did y/n. He was going to help before it got to the extreme.

So Spencer set down the papers, put his phone in his pocket and walked up to meet Hotch in his office.

When he enters, Hotch motions for him to take a seat.

Spencer sits, curious and kind of anxious about the conversation that was about to be had.

“I just wanted to let you know, that I know what you’re going through. And that I sympathize with what you’re feeling. If you need to take any personal time, any at all, you can.”

The next statement pops out of Spencer's mouth before he can even think.

“You didn’t.”

Hotch doesn’t even blink, not the least bit fazed by the observation.

“I should have. And I wish I did.”

He takes a breath.

“I loved Haley. A part of me still does, and will always love her, even now. But I want you to know that I sympathize with how you feel on more than just the divorce.”

Spencer furrows his brow.

What?

Hotch had wanted to keep this from the team for a very personal reason.

He didn’t want anyone judging him for continuing to love her, even after she hurt him.

He didn’t want them to hate her after her passing.

He didn’t want Jack to grow up to despise his mother.

“I didn’t realize it at first. I’m sure my line of work didn’t help much. I was gone often, and for long periods of time, during which I have no clue what she did.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Haley cheated on Hotch?

“But when I was home, she was distant. I again blamed it on the rift my job created, which I think is what drove her to do it in the first place.”

Hotch has never really talked about it out loud before now.

Was it bad, that he felt a little relieved, to finally get it out into the air?

“How did you find out?” Spencer's voice was soft, quite. He was afraid that if he spoke too loud, Hotch would back down, stop telling the story.

Hotch takes another deep breath, bringing forth the painful memory.

“It was a rare night where I was home. We had been arguing over an offer I had gotten here. It would have given me a 9-5 schedule, allowed me to be home for dinner and on the weekends, a shorter commute. She wanted me to take it, said it was a no brainer. I told her it was more complicated than that.”

Spencer is leaning forward onto his knees, hanging on to every word.

“We were talking about it, when our landline rang. When I picked it up, no one answered, so I hung up. Not ten seconds after, her cell phone started ringing.”

Why hadn’t Hotch told anyone?

Spencer was beginning to realize they had more in common than he thought.

“But what solidified it for me, was the fear in her eyes. She was petrified. I stared at her as her phone rang, and while she didn’t make a move to grab it, she crossed her arms, subconsciously telling me not to ask.”

He rubs his nose, and looks down at the files on his desk. “I did a little more research after that and found that I was correct.”

He folds his hands in front of him, the words becoming harder to say as he continues.

“What I’m trying to say, is that even when I loved her, even when I wanted it to work out, it didn’t.”

He was hoping Spencer would understand what he was implying. Hotch knew he was smart. It was getting to do something for himself that was the hard part.

Spencer’s head felt clear for the first time that week.

It had helped, hearing Hotch's own experience.

Hotch fought because he loved Haley, and he wanted to hang on to that as long as he could.

Spencer couldn’t wait to let go. That was the difference between the similarities.

Spencer nods, moving to stand up, his mind picking up speed as he did.

“If you ever need to talk about anything, and I mean anything, Spencer, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

A small smile graces Spencer’s lips. “I won’t.” He walks towards the door before pausing, and turning back around. “And Hotch,”

Hotch looks up from his paperwork.

“Thank you.”

Hotch smiles, soft and rare. “You’re welcome.”

Spencer makes his way back to his desk, sitting down, picking up the papers once again, digging a pen out of his satchel.

He flips through the papers, finding where x marks the spot.

He signs his name.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds series #cm #mathew gray gubler #song fic #heather #conan gray

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Bit Of Love... Potion?

Prompt: "I promise I won't let him draw on your face with permanent marker." "Hmmm... So can I draw on his face with washable markers?" "No!"

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader, lots of Ron Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 4.6k

A/N - This was written for @firewhisky-kisses writing challenge. This is my second Harry Potter themed story ever since I only joined the fandom like two weeks ago (very much feeling like an outsider atm) so please don’t judge too harshly. I am still getting used to these characters and the wizarding world itself. I decided to write something a little lighthearted.

Warnings - Playful threats of violence

"I'm gonna kill him," You growl loudly as you storm into the common room in search of Hermione Granger. She was one of three people at Hogwarts you would consider your best friend. The others were Harry Potter; and the other you were about to murder for catching you off guard. You held a towel around the top of your head to conceal your worst nightmare. Stray Gryffindors were settled around the room doing one thing or another as the day was drawing to a close. Hermione was resting on an armchair by the fire utterly engrossed by the massive book in her hands.

"Who?" She doesn't even bother to look up as you approach.

"Ron obviously," You groan, grip tightening on the towel to stop it from slipping. "who else would go out of their way to annoy me."

An unamused sigh falls past her lips as she finally lowers her book. "Show me,"

"No, it's embarrassing." You protest. Looking around the room; you didn't speak to anyone else in here too often so what did it even matter what they thought.

"Well then I can't help you,"

You shift your weight uncomfortably before pulling the towel off in a dramatic reveal of your beautiful head. Hermione's eyes drift over you; struggling to hold back her amusement as she finally sees what happened. "It's... not so bad," She replies quietly, a melodic chuckle drifting into the air. "Bright."

"I look like a walking highlighter." You whine, taking a seat on the arm of her chair. "Fix it,"

Hermione whips out her wand and with a flick of her wrist you assume your hair has gone back to normal. She was too good of a witch for it to not have. Reaching for her book, you inspect the cover as you slide into her lap. Absentmindedly flipping through the pages with complete disregard for where she was up to. "Ronald Weasley is gonna regret ever messing with me,"

"It is not that bad," Hermione plucks the book from your grasp. "You did slip him Puking Pastilles the other day."

"That was funny though" A smile spreads over your lips at the memory of Ron throwing up in the great hall before charging out. “This isn’t”

"He threw up all over my shoes,"

"Gross," you laugh a little. "If it had been my shoes, it'd be a different story. What should I do to get back at him?"

"Leave him alone? Show you're the mature one and move on?"

"Don't be silly Hermione," Your head falls back against the plush fabric of the chair. "Why should I stop and not him? Maybe he should be the mature one."

"He won't stop unless you stop,"

"I could hex his broom at quidditch practice," You think out loud; chewing on the inside of your cheek. "Watch him fall on his face."

"Absolutely not. You're not putting him in the hospital wing over some silly prank war."

You gently roll your eyes. "We could-"

"There's no we," Hermione interrupts. "Please do not include me in your nonsense. I'm not helping you. Can you get off me?"

Sliding off her lap and onto the floor, you rest your head against her knee. "I'll think of something- don't you worry. He won't be getting away with this."

"At least do it quietly,"

You're quiet for the moment; going over different options while staring at a tower of books on the coffee table. Next to them say some parchment and a quill. "Are those yours? Can I borrow your quill?"

"Knock yourself out,"

You grab the feather and a piece of parchment paper and get to work laying out all your options to get back at Ron. Hermione would probably kill you if you hurt him so that rules out a fair few things. You could buy something at Zonko's but at this point he'd probably see those coming; you can only slip him sweets that make him sick so many times. Then again maybe it was just simple enough to work. You scribble it down on the parchment paper anyway. Next you add the nose biting teacup but that was rather impractical considering he hardly ever drank tea. Acid lollipops were an option, they would just burn a hole in his tongue but that could count as hurting him even if it was an easy fix.

"What are you writing?" Hermione wonders, you glance up to her and smile a little. "I assume you’re not studying all of a sudden."

"Nope," You hold up the paper for her. "I'm listing ways to get back at Ron."

"Of course you are," She takes your list. "Why don't you just buy a joke wand?"

"Boring," Jumping to your feet, you snatch the paper back. "I need to do something out of the box."

"Don't come to me when things go wrong," She insists softly, returning her attention to her book.

"Things won't go wrong," You declare proudly. You'd been doing this since your second year so you kind of have a knack for pulling pranks at this point. "Have a little faith in me."

It takes a day or two but thanks to Harry dragging you along to advanced potions class at the start of the year you decide the perfect way to get back at Ron is to make him fall in love with you. Well, a weird embarrassing obsession kind of love. Commence operation; practice your potion making by creating a love potion and tricking Ron into consuming it. Not only do you get to embarrass him but it can count as studying which will keep Hermione at bay. Not that you're going to tell her because Love potions of any kind are banned at Hogwarts and she'll just insist it's a bad idea. Now all you had to do was figure out how to actually make a love potion. Professor Slughorn has made one at the beginning of the year but you weren't actually taught how to make one nor do you actually remember much about class that day. Once you figured out how you could collect the ingredients and then trick Ron into drinking it. It shouldn't be too complicated.

Every free period following is spent huddled in the back of the library, searching through what felt like a mountains of books on potions. A good portion of what you read is just the history behind the potion itself and the dangers. It wasn't a potion that would cause him any harm so there was no need to worry. Eventually, you manage to create a checklist of ingredients that consisted of;

Ashwinder eggs

Rose thorns

Peppermint

Powdered Moonstone

Pearl Dust

Rose Petals

This joke was beginning to feel like more effort than it was worth but you were determined to see this through. Ron would never see this coming. After returning all your books to the shelves, you figure getting some help from Harry is the next step. The only place to get all the ingredients was from the potions classroom or the supply room. You couldn't just walk in and take stuff without seeming a little suspicious; you also weren't exactly Slughorn's favourite student. Everyone knew it was Harry. So your final option was to sneak around.

"Harry- wait up," You run up beside him as g walks through the courtyard. Rather surprised to find him alone considering your next class was with him and Ron.

"Hey,"

"Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Depends," He shrugs. You offer him a very gentle smile, fluttering your eyelashes a little. He wasn't exactly the type to say no to you but better safe than sorry.

"Can I borrow your invisibility cloak? I promise I'll return it tomorrow."

"What for?" Your stomach sinks a little at his question. You can't risk telling him in case he tells Ron which will ruin the surprise.

"I need some ingredients for a potion and I don't really feel like asking for permission," Telling half a truth is much easier than coming up with an entirely new lie. "Please? How many times have I broken the rules for you now and I would do it again."

"Professor Slughorn probably wouldn't mind if you just asked. What are you making anyway?"

"I just wanna do some late-night practice. I'm more of a do what I want then ask for forgiveness later kinda person so can I? Please?" Emphasis on the 'please' in hopes that it will somehow help your case.

"Sure,"

"Thank you," Looping your arm with his, you begin to practically drag the poor boy through the courtyard. You couldn't be late for class again. Snape would take any excuse to punish you. "let's get to class before we both end up in detention."

Thanks to Harry's cloak, you manage to collect every ingredient needed for your forbidden love potion and get to work. You wouldn't say potion making was your worst subject but it's definitely not your best either and it was showing. After a few attempts by candlelight in the early hours of the morning, you finally manage to create a love potion. Normally you'd test a potion before recklessly using it on unsuspecting friends but there was no time or way to do that without them catching on. The last step was simple, deliver all kinds of spiked candy to Ron Weasley and pretend like everything was normal.

Sitting in the great hall, you slowly lift spoonfuls of cereal into your mouth as you listen to Neville drone on about his dream; at least that's what you hope he's talking about. Last night had wiped you out; your body was exhausted. You could just about keep your eyes open and all you wanted to do was go back to bed. Hermione was sat directly across from you, very delicately buttering a piece of wholemeal toast.

"I don't think it means anything, you're just thinking too much into," Hermione explains to Neville. You just shrug your shoulders; you hadn't really been paying attention anyway but you manage to perk up a little as Harry plops down beside you.

"What time do you call this Potter?" You scold, bumping your shoulder playfully against his.

"And where's Ron?" Hermione continues.

"He should be here soon enough. He's just taking extra care getting ready."

"Why?"

"He's trying to impress someone," Harry reaches for a bowl of fresh fruit.

"Oh do tell," An aura of giddiness envelops your words as if you don't expect the answer to be yourself. There was a chance he hasn't taken the bait yet and he just genuinely had a crush.

"I promised I wouldn't,"

"Come on, Harry. We won't tell."

"He's never mentioned liking anyone before," Hermione adds to the conversation, biting into her toast with a crunch.

"I don't know- ask him." As if summoned on cue, The redhead appears beside Hermione. He doesn't seem any different other than the smile and distant look in his eyes. Not to mention, he may have combed his hair? You couldn't be sure though.

"Did you sleep in again," She pauses for a second, her brows knitting together in a frown. "And is that... cologne I smell?"

Ron doesn't answer, he just looks at you with the expression of someone hopelessly entranced. It's a little weird but you take it as a compliment on your potion-making skills. "You alright there Ron?"

"Perfectly fine," He nods.

"Are you gonna eat something? We have class soon?"

"I'm not hungry,"

"Not hungry?" The volume of Hermione's voice catches you off guard. "When have you ever not been hungry, Ronald?"

"First time for everything Hermione," You take a sip of your water. All eyes were on Ron but he couldn't tear his away from you; that dopey grin never quite fading away. Was this how it was supposed to work? You had never seen it in action before. "I'll see you all at lunch " You announce, rising from the table. "I forgot my quill again this morning and I can't keep pretending I remember the stuff I'm being taught."

"How many classes do you have today?" Harry calls out before you can leave. You'd think he'd know your schedule by now. "I was thinking we could practice some potions later?"

"She has two," Hermione answers for you.

"Today pretty quiet for me usually but I have a study session later with Luna. She's helping me in care of magical creatures sorry," You flash a tight smile. "Maybe next time."

You had one class this morning and then one straight after lunch. Your free periods were supposed to be spent studying considering you were taking five N.E.W.T classes but you've never been one to study when you don't have to. Thinking on it, you probably could have studied with Harry in your free period before lunch but you think he has class then. The morning class is over before you know it and you're heading back to your dorm for a well-deserved nap when you practically crash into a none other than a Weasley.

"Watch where you're going, Ron."

His expression immediately brightens and he stands a little taller. "Oh, it's you, hey."

"Hello," Ron was a pretty awkward guy on the best of days but this felt weirder. A small, awkward smile settles on your lips. "Don't you have a class right now?"

"Mhmm," He nods but doesn't move nor continue talking.

"Ooookay then, well... I'm gonna go." You slide by him and scamper away. "I'll see you in a little bit."

When you imagined him under the influence of a love potion you expected less creepy staring but maybe he was just working his way up to it.

After a very short nap, that kept getting interrupted you're sat in the great hall waiting for classes to end and lunch to officially begin. There were a decent amount of students, all doing their own thing. Meanwhile the Gryffindor table was practically empty other than Dean, who was sat at an angle on the other side of the table and a couple of seventh years. You'd gotten so bored while pretending to study that Dean had suggested playing a game; this is the third match to decide who comes out on top as the Hangman champion of this free period. Three letters in and none of them had been right. The wooden frame was already drawn and waiting for the stickman to be hung

"S?" You guess.

His head shakes as he draws a wonky circle to start the stickman's fate. "Sorry."

"... I maybe?"

"Finally you got one.," it was a ten letter word and he filled in the second and eighth letters With I's.

"Can you give me like a hint?"

"I'm not gonna help you beat me," Dean replies. "Hey, Harry,"

"Harry!" You greet brightly, turning to find him towering over you. "We're playing hangman, do you wanna join? I'm about to win."

"No, you're not-"

"Did you do something to Ron?" Harry cuts of Dean. You swallow hard. Busted... or maybe not. Your brow furrows as you focus on the curled edge of the parchment you had been playing on.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything, I've been with Dean for like the last hour."

"He just seems very interested in you all of a sudden. I thought it was a one-time thing this morning but I've had to suffer through two classes of him talking about how cute and dreamy you are."

"Ron has a crush on her?" Dean's tone was rather playful.

"Maybe he just realised how cool I am," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "H?"

"Where is Ron anyway?" Dean adds the letter H to the begging of the word. You still have no clue what the word is but thankfully your two other friends finally appear just in time to interrupt. You'd rather draw by forfeit then lose altogether. Ron nearly shoves Hermione out of the way just to sit down next to you.

"I missed you this morning,"

"Missed you too Ron," You pat him twice on the cheek.

"What did you do to him?" Hermione's eyes narrow in on you.

"Who?"

"Ron obviously," She huffs. "I bumped into in the hallway and he said he couldn't wait to see you."

"As his friend, I'm happy he's excited to see me," You counter, resting your head on his shoulder. "At least someone at this table appreciates how cool I am."

"You're awesome," Ron wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight side-hug "I think I may be in love,"

Dean giggles to himself but Hermione is anything but amused. "For goodness sake, you can't be serious?"

"I'm very serious," He fights back, sounding almost offended but such an accusation. "In fact," a wave of regret washes over you as Ron gets up and climbs onto the bench in front of the now rather busy great hall. "I'm in love with-" you sink down as he shouts your name for everyone to hear. Mean snickers and playful giggles follow. You reach for his hand, tugging on his arm gently as to not hurt him.

"Sit down," you spit through gritted teeth. Heat rushing to your cheeks as if him announcing his love to everyone wasn't embarrassing enough already

You try to enjoy lunch as much as possible with Ron attached to your side. Hermione was relatively quiet but her harsh glare was enough to put you off starting anything with her. And so you mostly spoke to Harry and finished your game with Dean. The word was Hippogriff which you managed to guess before the final leg finished off the stickman. Thankfully, your next class provided a nice escape from Ron. However it couldn't stop the sly comments in the hallways and mean laughter. This joke was very quickly becoming anything but funny.

This continued into the next day, you were regretting spiking so much candy. Not to mention Hermione hadn't spoken to you since lunch yesterday and you couldn't figure out why exactly. Normally she gets a little annoyed at your silly jokes with Ron but she seemed really mad at you. And considering you share a dorm room, things were feeling very tense, to say the least.

Managing to slip away from Ron long enough for a quick conversation, you find your fellow Gryffindor sat alone having an early breakfast. "I said I wouldn't help you,"

"Huh?" You hadn't even asked her anything yet or sat down for that matter but at least she's talking to you again.

"You want my help right?" She meets your gaze as you take a seat. "What did you do?"

"I actually wanted to know what was wrong?" Which was very much true. "You seemed... upset yesterday. I don't like it when you're mad at me."

"Judging by the way he was all over you yesterday my guess is It was a love potion correct?" you're impressed that she managed to guess and so quickly too. "A strong one at that. That is the only way to explain him suddenly being in love with you."

"I'm offended that you don't think Ron could like me that way," The words came a little more defensively than intended. "am I really that bad?"

Hermione's face morphs through a sea of emotions finally settling on looking a little disheartened. You wonder what's going on in her pretty little head. "It's not that I don't think he could like you that way- maybe he does and that would be fine. You're..." She seems hesitant to continue, her head falling. "amazing. Just that's not what this is."

"You're right," You confirm, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice. "Like always. I slipped him a love potion thinking it would be funny and now it's not."

"How can you be so reckless," Compared she seemed so delicate just moments ago, she quickly bounces back to scold you. "You know they're not allowed at school."

"Worth it," A small chuckle bubbles up from your throat. It had been a little funny and definitely embarrassing plus you got to test your skills so you weren't inherently regretting your decision. You just wish the effects would fade already. "I didn't learn the antidote and I'm not spending hours in the library again."

"It'll wear off soon enough, how much did you give him."

"I made like... a cauldron full but I don't know how much he consumed."

"So it's my understanding that you idiotically gave him a lot?"

Words mumbled by your juice, you nod to convey your answer.

"Then it'll take a while to wear off."

Ron slides up beside you, taking you by surprise. The juice comes back up in sputtering coughs. "Speak— of— the devil."

"Good morning my beautiful angel," Even you cringe at that one. Harry takes a seat on your left side. "Did you sleep well?"

"You should know, you were watching me this morning," Ron pulls you closer to him. When you awoke this morning, not only was Hermione already gone but it had been quite the surprise to find Ron had snook into the girl's dorms to be with you.

"You're so adorable when you're sleeping."

"If you'll excuse me, I can only handle so much nauseating sweetness," Hermione takes one sympathetic look at you and then scurries away like she can't handle being here any longer. Something was definitely off with her. Today was gonna be a long day...

How you longed for the weekend to come early as each class tortured you with new knowledge that had to be burnt into your brain. It didn't help that Ron was getting increasingly annoying; it was like he was incapable of being alone. After the school day finally ended, you retired to the common room; both the boys joined you. Harry was complaining about how much work he's been assigned from one class while Ron seemed happy to just be near you in any compacity. Which right now meant having his arm around you.

"Here," Hermione interrupts, dropping a plugged vial onto your lap.

"What is it?"

"An antidote." She was biting back an insult or an 'I told you so', you couldn't be sure but there was a hint of aggression behind her words.

"Drink this," Before you even have time to process, Harry is shoving the vial towards Ron.

"What is it?"

"I think you should try it," Ron doesn't even question the request when it comes from you. He takes the vial and downs it in one. An unsure look is shared between you and Hermione but sure enough, Ron's goofy grin begins to fade.

"What the bloody hell happened?"

"I slipped you a love potion and you became obsessed with me." You answer. "It was funny at first but then you announced you were In love with me to the whole school."

"You think a love potion is the same as a comb that changes your hair?" The boy sank into the seat cushion, finally removing his arm from around your shoulders. "I don’t feel so good."

"He needs something to perk him up," Hermione states. If she knew that, she should have come prepared.

"He has candy hidden in his draws"

"Yeah... it's probably best if he gets rid of all that," You admit, getting up. "Wait here,"

It was only fair you provided something so you grab the last chocolate bar you had from your dorm room. "You shouldn't have messed with my hair." You declare, handing over the chocolate with an almost sad smile.

"Now you two can hopefully put this silly war to bed."

"Not likely," Your voice syncs with Ron's, and with it comes a genuine smile. It was nice he was back to normal.

"I have to get back at her."

"And how will you do that Weasley?" You drop back down next to him.

"I think I'll go back to the good old fashioned permanent marker while you sleep."

"Why would you tell me in advance?"

"Because you don't know when I'm gonna do it." He declares with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So now you'll be on edge waiting for it to happen."

In this situation, the equivalent to snitching to a teacher to prevent something from happening was to tell the only one opposed to this whole situation entirely. "Hermione tell him. You had no problem insisting I be the bigger person."

She simply rolls her eyes before turning to Weasley. "Ronald, Consider not retaliating especially with a permanent marker before one of you," she glances towards you; rightful so. "Goes too far."

"she started it," He protests, "I didn't sip her a love potion."

"You better not come anywhere near me with marker pens."

"Sometimes I think I'm talking to myself." And with that, she wonders off

"I'm watching you, Weasley," Now, you were going to have to keep a very close eye on him to assure you didn't wake up with a fake mustache or something. Jumping up you chase after Hermione.

"Thanks for helping." You fall into step with her. "I'd be lost without you."

"I know,"

"Wow. Modest." You mumble sarcastically before falling silent; unsure of how to approach the next question. "Do you like Ron by any chance?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you like Ron?" You repeat. It was the only explanation you could come up with over why she would be so angry the last couple of days. "You seemed really upset since he's been all over me so I thought maybe it was like jealousy or something."

"Don't be ridiculous," She fires back. "I don't like Ron."

"I never imagined you two together but I think you'd be sweet," You comment, intentionally trying to get a rise out of her. Hermione sighs loudly as she comes to a stop.

"Ron is one of my best friends but I don't like him in that way," From a few steps away, you turn back to her. She's clutching a few books tightly against her chest, refusing to look at you. "I swear that I don't."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," She shrugs pathetically. "I just saw him all over you and I didn't like it. You're never normally like that together and he kept pushing me aside to get to you."

"I'm not following," You're honestly more confused than before.

She approaches you slowly, still unable to meet your gaze but her lips very softly connect with your cheek. "I promise I won't let him draw on your face with permanent marker."

Her words spark a lightbulb. You've never done a double prank but perhaps now would be a good chance. You could do it to him before he gets the chance to do it to you.

"Hmmm... So can I draw on his face with washable markers?"

With a heavy sigh, she simply states her favourite word "No!"

"But-"

"No." Hermione continues walking and you're left watching her.

"Hey," You call out. "Do you wanna head down to Hogsmeade tomorrow? I'll buy you a butterbeer to say thank you."

"You just want to visit the joke shop, don't you?"

"Desperately," She always could see right through you. "But still. I want to go- just you and me."

"I would like that," She finally meets your gaze and she looks happier now. The almost set sun, casting her in such a warm, welcoming glow. Hermione was a hard girl to figure out but that's what made her so interesting. "I was hoping to get a new quill anyway."

#Hermione Granger x reader #ron weasley x reader #harry potter #Hermione x reader #hermione granger #ron weasley #harry potter fanfiction #stephs200challenge

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smellysluna · 5 years ago

Text

The one where Adrien dances with you

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Adrien Agreste & [YOU]

Warnings/Tags: mostly swearing and PDA but very mild, fluff you’d say?

Summary: you meet Adrien at a gala hosted by the Vanilies in London, you confuse Adrien for Felix but your misunderstanding quickly turns into something else.

Note: I feel like the ending kinda sucks a lot but mblerghh i don’t want to wait to post this, enjoy babes!

Graham de Vanilie Group invites you to a Fundraising Holiday Gala. 7th of May 2020. Six o’clock in the Buckingham Palace.

The last time the Graham de Vanilie Group hosted a fundraiser was a few years back, right before one of their CEOs passed away. You place the invitation card back in the envelope you received from Félix. You’re startled by the sudden invite and glance at your best friend.

“I suspect that the black envelopes were your choice?”

Félix nearly flinched. After all, he does his best at hiding feelings and intentions; he does fool most people but you always knew him better than the palm of your hand. So when the blond tried to suppress his astonishment, you almost smirked.

“You never fail to surprise me.” His voice is flat and deep but it quivers right at the end.

“You’re way too predictable.”

You place the open envelope onto your desk. When you turn around, you notice Félix’s leg go in an up-and-down motion. He was waiting for an answer, you knew, but he wasn’t going to ask for it. You step up to your walk-in closet and go through the dresses.

“It’s been a long time since I bought a gala dress,” you yell to Félix.

You didn’t hear how he walked into the closet. For whatever that means, you never notice when he sneaks up on you but you’re used to it by now.

“Do you want to match, for old time’s sake?”

“That’s brilliant, Félix! Are you free this weekend?”

He falls silent for a moment, pursing his lips. “I could create an opening in my schedule on Saturday morning.”

“It’s settled then. Saturday at 9:30 we’ll get some breakfast and then—”

“I said I could, not that I would.”

You stare at him with the utmost hateful look you could muster. “You fucking asshole.”

Turns out that Félix did clear up some plans to go shopping that weekend. As planned, you had chosen clothing that matched. When the day of the gala came, Félix told you to meet him at the venue because he had some responsibilities as one of the hosts. He had to receive guests and be there for his mother.

You arrive at Buckingham palace with your parents and as soon as you get in, the three of you are greeted by the remaining members of the Vanillies. You and your parents split ways.

Félix looked as dashing as ever, his suit perfectly matched your long dress. He had his hair slicked back as usual but it seemed that he used a more than necessary quantity of gel.

“What’s with your hair today, I can see myself in it.” You joked.

“Thank you, your hair isn’t any better,” he replies coldly.

You scoff, “tell that to my hairdresser.”

“I just might.”

“Sure you will, wanker.”

He glares disapprovingly and dismisses you. “Go bother the waiters. Maybe get something to drink while you’re at it. You’re tolerable when drunk.”

You just smile at him and let go of the bickering. “I better get started, then.” You leave Félix tending the rest of the guests.

“Hey,” he calls out, “I’ll find you later.” You nod at him and keep walking, swaying your hips in exaggeration just to annoy him.

The Buckingham’s ballroom wasn’t as spacious like the usual contracted venues by the Vanillie Group. It only seemed fair, though. Most of the guests already there were closer to their inner circle —comfortable enough to invite but just as brave.

The ballroom was clear enough to recognise the people you knew and had to greet for the sake of politeness. If you’re lucky there will be some entertainment. You move toward the clique the teenagers had unconsciously formed with a smile.

After some boring interactions with the biggest snob —according to you and Félix— known as Vanessa you excuse yourself and ditch the posse to find Félix. You remark at yourself that the room had filled generously within an instant. Now you only wonder in which corner the tolerable snob had secluded himself to. While executing the quest, you straighten your posture out of habit.

The next thing, you see the back of a blond head. The posture and the shoulder build was right… Why was Félix’s hair suddenly not gelled back? You had to find out and on the way to wisdom you wondered whether his mother forced him to get rid of the excessive amount of gel he used. You grab his hand and turn him around.

Not taking a good glance, you say unladylike —the way you always talk to him—, “what did you do to your hair?” You glance around and play with his hair, wondering how he managed to wash his hair in this place. “You were never planning on looking for me, weren’t you?” You glared at the blond.

You expected Félix’s stoic-stone-cold stare but instead you were met by a stupefied smile. There’s no doubt that it’s the same face but the expressions don’t match. At your approach the blond scratched his neck.

“I think you’ve mistaken me for my cousin,” he smiles and your face widens in shock. It feels like your heart just fell to the core of the Earth.

You let go of his hand and apologize frantically. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice you weren’t Félix.” You cover your face. “This is so embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

Félix’s cousin uncovers your face carefully but instead of looking at him, you keep your gaze on the floor’s carpet.

“Don’t worry —It’s not your fault! Everybody confuses us both.” He keeps silent for a moment. “Hey,” he tries to get you to look at him, “it’s okay —it really is.” Giving into his words, you glance up at him.

His stare and your stare cross. You take him in entirely. Even though he had the same face as someone you knew like the palm of your own hand, he felt like a different person. But he was a different person! Realising this, your heart ached in a way it had never done before. The air hitched at the back of your throat and neither the blond neither you said anything, you were both speechless.

He cleared his throat in what felt like a moment of paradise, the spell broke.

The music in the ballroom becomes louder. “Would you like to share a dance with me?” He offers an open hand and a bright smile.

With a twinkle in your eyes, you lay your hand in his. “I’d love to.”

He guided you closer to the musicians at the far end of the ballroom. At the center of the far end, on top of a podium connected to a pair of stairs, were the Queen’s and King’s thrones. Both seats were vacant but you knew that the Queen was somewhere nearby, you greeted her not long ago.

At the far end walls were another pair of stairs connecting to each side of the wall; on the left was the string orchestra and on the right was the wind orchestra. You found yourself stranded in between.

The blond preserves his grip on your hand and faces you. In response, you put your arms around his shoulders.

You scoff, “even Félix holds me closer.”

At the comparison, the blond in front of you tensed. He pulled you closer out of sheer stubbornness.

Then most certainly, you’re reminded that he’s not Félix. The contact sent shivers down your spine. The feeling of him, so close, ricketed your heart. You were sucked into your own world where there was only him, the music and you. Too dumbfounded to notice anybody else, you begin to dance. Luckily, you had incorporated into a slow waltz. The both of you moved loosely without any missteps.

An unseen force pulled you into his eyes, your will was to weak to pry you away from staring at him. Not once were you tempted to talk to him, you had everything you needed. His hand on your wait, your arm on his shoulder and a magic connection.

A few steps later, your heart calmed down and only then you dared to speak. “I’m (Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N).” He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

“Name’s Adrien, Adrien Agreste.”

You bite your lip, scolding yourself for ruining your applied lipstick, as you both keep moving rhythmically to the orchestra. “Agreste..? I’ve never heard of you,” the spell your eyes shared had long broken so you move your eyes around the moving ballroom, “or seen you.”

You heard him chuckle and it was so precious you imprinted it to your memory. It was dumb, really, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re Félix’s friend,” he told you as a matter of fact but the short sad smile doesn’t go unnoticed. “I imagine he never said he had a cousin.” You wanted to reply first but nodded instead.

“Why has he never talked about you?”

Adrien pulled you closer unconsciously but your heart rate spiked in an instant. “The short version of the story is that his mother’s twin is my mother but she married Gabriel Agreste and moved to France with him.”

You let the untold drama to sink in. You imagine what secrets these two families were keeping and you grin to yourself. Juicy rich people drama.

Before replying to Adrien, you avoid biting your lip as to not ruin the professionally applied make-up. “That explains a little,” you guide Adrien into the pace increased music, “but I’d love to hear the full version.”

In your head, you created Adrien as somebody sweet and always polite, a soft person but when he takes the lead in your waltz… you realize he’s not as soft as you had pegged him for.

“Maybe later, My Lady.”

The tempo gets stronger and faster and gracefully you keep following the rhythm. The room starts spinning and you only have a focus on the boy with the green eyes. The music is loud and it drums in your ears or maybe it was your heart beating so hard, you weren’t sure. You were having fun, and you keep the flow going without even skipping a beat. Your feet hurt from your heels but you couldn’t even feel the pain. The trumpets sang loud, the violins serenaded violently and your heart drifted ecstatically. The smile on your faces wouldn’t leave and you thought you were tiptoeing through the sky. Quite frankly, dancing with Adrien Agreste felt liberating.

It wasn’t until the tempo slowed down that you were aware that you had broken a sweat. You recalled the times when you danced with Félix, not even a drop of sweat. He’d always push you to your limits but you kept up with him effortlessly. With Adrien it was different. You weren’t just shuffling your feet, you were dancing! Enjoying it! Feeling it! You had been dancing and not once your mind wandered somewhere else. You were dancing with Adrien Agreste and nothing else mattered.

Sometime later, after catching the attention of many, you decide to go outside for a rest and cool down. You stopped at the palace’s entrance stairs. The guards on the bottom kept their position still. Nonetheless, you were a sweaty mess, you hoped your make-up hadn’t melted away but you were certain that the lipstick had faded away.

The both of you were engaged in a pleasant conversation and kept smiling at eachother. You were getting to know one another, you asked him about life in Paris, he asked you about life in London.

“I’ve been wondering,” Adrien pauses and looks around, “do you love Félix?"

You furrow your brows in deep thought. You felt like answering with the truth but you just met him. Nevertheless, you wanted to tell him. So you do.

To distract yourself from Adrien’s visage, you lean on the stairs’ rail. "I thought I did."

A moment of silence passed by until Adrien asked what it is that you meant.

"It’s not like I’m confused or anything —I know I like him. It’s just,” you bite your bottom lip, trying to keep it in but it was too late, “there’s this other girl who’s in love with him too. And, honestly, Félix is better off with her.”

Adrien stands up from the stairs indignantly. “You can’t just… give up!” he says, desperately.

You look at him surprised, for a moment, still not used to the expressive emotions on such a familiar face.

“It’s not that I’ve given up. It’s that I’m okay with how Félix is. I’m okay with the small amounts of emotions that he shows. I’m okay with his cryptic behaviour. I wouldn’t change any of that —I couldn’t.”

You straighten your dress and stare at anything, just to keep your mind away from the aching in your heart.

“But Bridgete… she can make a difference in Félix. She makes him a better person, even if it’s a little. She can make him grow and become the one he needs to be."

You stare into Adrien’s glassy eyes, ready to give your heart the final blow. Adrien stares back at you and his heart churns.

"I’d just bring him down."

Adrien didn’t realise he was clenching his jaw. He tries to loosen his grip on himself but he just couldn’t.

“I don’t know what to say.” Adrien sighs feeling identified to some extent and sits back down on the stairs. “I mean, I guess I understand you.”

You gaze at the back of Adrien’s head, you notice he relaxes his shoulders after you sit down next to him and it makes you smile slightly. He keeps his gaze on the ground.

“It’s just that I keep trying and trying and I get nowhere. We’ve gotten closer over time, yeah, but I’ve done zero progress.”

You lean into him to give him some comfort and he places an arm around you in response. It felt so natural to the both of you —it was scary how close you felt. Who knew how intimate a dance could be.

“I feel so hopeless sometimes.”

You lift your head up from his shoulder and stare into his eyes. His gaze was blankly set on the ground and his eyes were a shade darker outside. It’s funny how only now you notice those little details. Like the reflection of the lampposts’ light shining in his eyes. Like the way he kept clenching and unclenching his fist. Or the way he kept biting harder and harder on his bottom lip…

You can’t recall when Adrien faced you. Nonetheless, Adrien clearly noticed when you kept staring at his lips. He especially noticed your silent ragged breathing and your excessive lip licking…

You started leaning into Adrien. You could feel his hot breath. You were too scared to look into each other’s eyes and before your lips met, Adrien hesitated. The way he had made you feel tonight gave you the courage to just go for it. So you go in to kiss him. You felt confident and hopeful but Adrien stopped you.

"I’m - I’m sorry. It’s just…” Adrien couldn’t get the right words. “I’m sorry."

Your heart feels heavy in your chest. That night, you broke your own heart twice. The first time was about your discordance with Félix and the second time… by kissing a guy you just met. How ironic, you fell for the same face twice.

You stand up abruptly. You really don’t want Adrien to see you red-eyed and puffy. You decide to flee from him and never see him ever again.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. We don’t know each other at all —it’s my fault.” You approach the entrance at the top of the staircase and before you get inside you tell him goodbye without a second glance.

He ponders for a moment. Figuring out what just happened. He thought a few seconds had passed before he ran after you.

“Shit! I’m stupid!”

He wondered how could you be so fast, you wore heels and a long dress. It seems that he had spent more than just a few seconds before he realised that you were his chance to become better. You might’ve not been Félix’s opportunity to become a better man but you sure as hell were Adrien’s. And it only took him one evening (and a few extra minutes) to figure that one out.

He figured you got back into the ballroom and he was right. Just as he was about to apologise to you and tell you how he actually felt after meeting you, he was met with Félix’s hostile glare. You were slouched between his arms and Félix held you tight, so tight he could see veins. Adrien paled in an instant, he darted glances between you and Félix without cease.

Félix’s jaw was set in a tight knot. His cousin had hurt his best friend and he imagined what had happened. He knew his cousin’s heart was set for Ladybug. He even thought bitterly of her name. Such a boyish and stupid crush. He thought he couldn’t despise his cousin even more but there was Adrien, proving him wrong.

He could imagine what happened, you always seemed to have a fancy for blonds. Ironically, Félix wondered how you could have fallen for his face but not for him (little did he know). It left a bitter taste on his tongue. While he intently stared at Adrien, he took you away from the ballroom —somewhere only he could get in. And before you left the ballroom altogether, you curiously glanced at where Félix had been looking when he tensed. That was the last time you saw Adrien Agreste in that ballroom.

When the event ended, you locked yourself in your room. Your parents barely noticed your distant behaviour; it happens when they constantly work.

Sooner than later, the next week arrived and so did Félix. He knocked on your door and let himself in. You were in your pajamas, looking terrible. You haven’t combed your hair since the shower you took on Friday and haven’t brushed your teeth either.

“I have to say, you look worse than I thought you would.”

You glare at him with red and puffy eyes, “I haven’t stopped crying since Thursday, Félix. It’s pathetic… I’m pathetic!”

“Yeah, you are pathetic.”

You rub your eyes. “Yeah, thank you for your support.”

“You better. I’m the one who got you away from there.”

In the beginning you thought that he could brighten your mood but it seemed to be doing quite the contrary. Before he arrived, you managed to calm down and stop crying. Your efforts weren’t paying off because you were at the brink of tearing up again.

“Could you just… not say anything? At all?” You sigh. “I just need you to be here. By my side. Nothing else.”

Félix felt like saying something, actually comforting this time… but the defeated look on your face convinced him otherwise. He lay on your desk your favourite sweets, to which he received a smile from you, and sat down on the end of your bed.

“Fine, just get here,” he looks away, embarrassed, “and cry it out. You won’t be alone this time.”

You put your head on his lap and purse your lips. “I don’t feel like crying anymore.”

He looks into your eyes and groans, “you fucking wanker.” You just giggle at his pink cheeks.

Sometime later you were forced to go to Paris with Félix. Well, you weren’t really forced. Félix’s mother asked you to come and give support to her and her son. They were going to visit the man that stole her sister. Also because it was the day she had disappeared.

You thought it wouldn’t do any harm to get out of your house, out of London and spend some time in the city of love. Maybe you’ll find a Parisian to get your mind off of the blond who’s been as of late haunting your dreams.

Turns out it was a bad idea. Paris was covered with Adrien’s face. It didn’t matter where you went: there he was, smiling with that stupid cute face and stupid smile. You thought you had gotten over him these past few weeks but all these pictures of him made you fall for Adrien Agreste all over again.

You’d remember that intense dance you shared and that conversation in which you felt you could trust Adrien with your whole life. If you stared long enough at his picture, your heart would break too. Being in Paris was nothing like you thought it would be. It was so confusing. The scenery was amazing and beautiful but you barely enjoyed it. These feelings of discomfort and contempt were complicated. Sad you felt your heart being broken one too many times; happy you fell for the same guy all over again. You knew you had to get over him but the signs of the universe wouldn’t let you.

So instead of going back to England with the Vanilies, you decided to spend some time alone in this melancholic city.

It was weirdly filled with pigeons in the capital when you finally met the famous Ladybug and Chat Noir.

It felt unreal to have Ladybug in front of you, talking in a language you don’t understand. You picked up a couple of words from Félix like idiot and stupid. He likes to mutter your idiocy in French.

"Sorry, I don’t speak French.”

Ladybug’s eyes widen, she doesn’t speak English. Even if you didn’t understand what she was yelling at her partner, she was impressive. Let’s face it, if it came to it, you’d be gay for her. As soon as that embarrassing thought crossed your mind, someone landed behind you.

“You’re in luck, Ladybug, since it seems I’m fluent in English."

You didn’t bother to look behind you, you were sure it was Chat Noir. Ladybug seemed to be a more impressive sight than anything, except for… that… that… that damn Agreste! You cursed internally, more worried of your internal battle than the one you were physically involved in. It seemed that Adrien Agreste wasn’t going to leave your mind anytime soon.

In a swing, Ladybug left you alone with Chat Noir, not before giving you a reassuring smile.

Chat Noir cat walked in front of you, a smug smile adorning his face. When he saw your face, he tripped on his own feet and fell, wide-eyed.

It was wrong to laugh at him, he could’ve been hurt, but you couldn’t help it. A hero trying to show off but failing? That’s hilarious.

You dismissed Chat Noir’s incredulous look of embarrassment at a failed athletics check. In reality, he was freaking out. Even still, his heart bubbled at your laughter. It was just like the way you laughed with him in Buckingham Palace, the only difference was you weren’t in his arms.

Your laughter died down when you noticed he wasn’t standing up. With tears in your eyes, you offer your hand to help him up. "I apologise for laughing, I haven’t had a good laugh in a long time."

He took your hand in his and didn’t want to let go when he got to his feet. He had to let go.

"Don’t worry about it.” He knew he was taking too long on following the instructions Ladybug gave him. His baton was ringing, Ladybug was calling. He didn’t pick up even though he knew he should do what’s right for Paris’ safety. Do what’s right for the people —not him. It hurt internally to let you go again. “Look, I have to get back to the battle, so I’m gonna take you somewhere safe. Please, be careful.”

Chat Noir finished the battle as soon as possible, skipped his usual fistbump with Ladybug and got back to you. But when he returned to the spot he left you, you weren’t there anymore.

His heart sank into his stomach.

Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him why you were here. Why were you even in Paris? By any chance, were you looking for him? He doubted that. Why would you look for him? If anything, he should be looking for you!

The pit in Chat Noir’s stomach grew heavier, his heart beat so loud he hardly heard his own thoughts. What was he even feeling? The only thing that felt right was you. You in his arms, laughing at those possé’d jerks. Shit! He must find you.

The only thing he could think of being of use was Félix. He’d ask for your number and call you and—. No, it would be dumb. Félix wouldn’t even give Adrien your number. Especially not after that look he received in the palace. He could still try… He’d beg for it if he had to.

“Ugh, how do I even ask him?”

Chat Noir pondered various outcomes —none of them seemed to go well— all the way to his house. In a matter of seconds, Adrien freed himself from the suit and stared at Félix’s contact number.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago, Plagg.”

“You don’t seem to be doing anything.”

Plagg caught on his bullshit. Thing is, Adrien was too scared to push the call button. He hasn’t even thought of a proper way of asking your number or even greeting Félix. So lost in thought…

“I guess you found out, hah?” Félix answered.

It seems that Plagg accidentally pressed the call button. Adrien was at a loss for words. He still doesn’t know what to tell Félix.

“Hello? Can you even hear me?” Apparently, Adrien took too long to think of something to say.

“I — uh — yeah.”

“‘Yeah’, what? That you found out or that you can hear me?”

“Both.”

“Fine, what do you need?” Félix inquired, clearly annoyed.

“Phone.”

“Phone?”

“Number.”

“Number?”

“Her phone number.”

“Her phone number?”

“Yeah, her phone number.”

“Her phone number.”

“Right.”

Silence.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

Adrien paced even faster around his room.

“Wait! No! I need you to give me her phone number.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I asked.”

“Right. You’re not getting it.”

“Because I like her.”

“You like her.”

“Yeah.”

“You son of a—. You made her cry!”

“I went after her!”

“You were too late!”

“Please.”

The line suddenly died. Félix hung up. Adrien was sure this was the only way so he readied himself to call again but he was interrupted by a message.

Félix

Contact: thy dumbass

Félix

if she comes back more broken than when she left i will kill you

Félix didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you to be with Adrien. Yet, he had to give you a chance to be happy and maybe, he’d hope, his cousin fucked up. Maybe you could give him a chance but it seems that he waited way too long.

Now that Adrien had your phone number he didn’t know what to do with it. He could call you… and then what? He could send you a text, explaining himself. Yeah, that seemed right. It was the longest text message he has ever written. He reread it nine times before erasing all of it before he could hit send.

Maybe he isn’t worthy of you. After all, he should’ve been the one that found you instead of the other way around. He should’ve gone after you.

It was true that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, he couldn’t keep you a secret so he talked to the person he trusts with his life. Ladybug had been understanding, she even talked about her own love life. She had never been willing to talk about it. The team had reached a milestone in trust. Whenever they had doubts, they’d talk to each other and point out things that the other didn’t realise. However, Ladybug had been most successful, she listened to Chat Noir’s suggestions whereas Chat didn’t follow through. Maybe this one time he will.

“I think you need to tell her to meet somewhere. Have some tea or something. Isn’t that what british people do the most?”

“This is so embarrassing, Ladybug. What do I tell her? ‘Hey, let’s meet and have tea!’ That’s so dull.”

“You say exactly that!”

“What? No way.”

“If I were right there I’d take your phone and text her myself. Now don’t be a chicken, I’m getting tired of you weeping.”

Adrien squeaks when he sends that simple message to an empty chat waiting to be filled.

“Did she answer!?”

“No! I just sent the message! How—Oh, God! She replied!”

“What did she say!?”

“‘Who is this?’ uh.”

“Chat, you idiot! Tell her it’s you!”

“Fuck, I’m scared.”

“Come on!”

“Okay, okay, I said it. She read it — she’s not replying. Wait, wait, she’s typing!” Adrien gripped his phone so tight his knuckles were white. “She said ‘okay’.”

“Go on, then! Tell her when you can meet and where! I’m hanging up now, I’m actually with some friends. Good luck, Chat.”

“Thanks Bugaboo.”

As soon as he hung up he texted you when you were free.

(Y/N): whenever, really, all I’ve been doing is wandering around

Adrien: do you have time now? I’m free until my fencing class

(Y/N): uh, yeah, where do you want to meet? Don’t make it complicated I don’t know this place much

Adrien: where are you now?

(Y/N): at a cafe by the eiffel tower, but I’d like to rest at the hotel first, my feet hurt

Adrien: Le Grand Paris?

(Y/N): yep

Adrien: I’ll pick you up after my fencing class, should give you enough time to rest

(Y/N): ok

Adrien: looking forward to see you again

The texting ends there. Adrien can’t wait to get to fencing class and get over it. You, on the other hand, pay for your tea and race to the hotel. What did that heart mean..? You were dying to get to your hotel room and take a long hot shower, you were basically crawling up the walls of the elevator.

A few hours later you get a message from Adrien that he’s on his way. Honestly, you were ready an hour ago, you had never been so nervous to meet someone. You slowly made your way down to the entrance. You were going to make him wait but the moment you step outside you see a car pulling up.

Adrien: I’m here

He steps outside and spots you immediately. Fuck, you looked beautiful. He walked up to you even though he wanted to run and spin you around in his arms and kiss you all over.

It was awkward seeing one another after everything but when you both caved for a hug. It felt so right. Your hearts pounded. His hair was still slightly wet, probably from the shower he just took. He smelled like citrus too.

Adrien broke the hug and stared deep in your eyes and before he could stop it, he was leaning in for a kiss. Lips barely touching, he hesitates but you close the gap. It was much better than the hug. His lips were soft and plump. It wasn’t your best kiss but the feelings you got from him were amazing. Together, you could teach him to kiss the way you want to him which means he’s gonna have to practice a lot of kisses with you.

“Sorry it took this long.”

“The wait was worth it.”

He smiles at you and you kiss again.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #adrien agreste x reader #chat noir x reader #adrien agreste #adrien x reader #miraculous ladybug adrien

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ashxketchum · 3 years ago

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Writer’s Month - 6

So this is a rewrite of a Pokeshipping Week entry I’d written some 3-4 years(?) ago. I try not to look at my older writing because it’s kinda silly, but today’s prompt was begging me to revisit this snippet, especially since I made some changes to my fankids hcs!

Fandom/Pairing: Pokeani/Pokeshipping

Prompt: Amnesia (Ash suffers memory loss after he loses Pikachu forever in a difficult battle, but the Ketchum family is managing to continue life as normal, because what is grief if not love persevering? 😏)

There were moments he remembered and moments he didn’t. Hazy memories constantly in and out of sight, never appearing in their full glory. Every day he would try to recognize the faces that came and sat in front of him, some of them similar to those in his memories, some not, talking about the time they had spent together, pleading with their silent eyes that he’d suddenly remember something.

Remember.

He heard that word countless times in a day, almost always coupled with me in a questioning tone.

Remember me, Ash?

Always the same questions, always the same answers, always the same tone…

It had been going on for about a year now, and he was not sure for how much longer he could survive these daily visits, that mostly felt like interrogations.

Ash Ketchum.

That’s what his name was supposed to be, as he had been told when he had first opened his eyes after a long, peaceful slumber.

It was surprising that he didn’t remember his own name when he woke up that fateful day but he remembered the lifeless body of his dear friend, the one he hadn’t been able to save, the one who had saved him in exchange for his life, his best friend and first companion, his Pikachu.

He’d overheard the doctors tell his wife that the memory loss was just a coping mechanism he was subconsciously using to deal with the grief and the pain of losing his partner. He had laughed bitterly at that. If that was the case, then why couldn’t he just get rid of the image of Pikachu lying on the ground, completely still, lifeless… why was this the only piece of memory that he wasn’t subconsciously letting go of?

“Daddy, how are you feeling today?”

He hadn’t noticed the door open and he was a little surprised to have company so early in the morning. Usually everyone in his house slept in late on Sundays, including him, and he was going to gloat over being the first one up today but it seemed that someone had already beaten him to it. A pair of brown eyes similar to his stared up at him expectantly, a huge smile covered every inch of his daughter’s face as she promptly sat herself down opposite him on the bed, “I helped with breakfast!” she exclaimed.

“I’m feeling fine, Izzy.” He returned the smile, though not in the same proportion, “I’m looking forward to eating it then.”

Unlike his daughter’s entry going unnoticed, Ash would never fail to notice the flash of orange hair which was still as bright as the day he had first met her, a memory he had only recently managed to recover. She came in carrying his breakfast, and immediately her eyes fell on their daughter.

“Izzy, I thought I told you to go wake up your brother,” Misty said as she set the tray of food down in front of Ash and turned to frown at their daughter.

“I tried, he didn’t budge,” Izzy pouted in reply, trying her best to sway her mother with her cocoa coloured eyes that eerily resembled his.

“He has a very important training session at the Lab today, please go wake him up sweetheart,” Misty sighed as she nudged Ash to make space for her on his side of the bed.

“Fine.” Izzy muttered dejectedly as she dragged her feet out of the room slowly, not wanting to see her brother so early in the morning.

Ash inspected the tray of food lying in front of him as Misty rested her head on his shoulder, four pancakes and sliced fruits, simple and easy to eat just the way he liked it, “Wow, Izzy did all this?” he wondered aloud.

Misty snorted in reply, “All she did was make that smiley face on the pancake with whipped cream and even that is lopsided.”

“Tch, Mist,” Ash clicked his tongue as he began to dig in, “Always the perfectionist.”

Misty didn’t reply, she closed her eyes and tried her best to etch this scene in her head for harder days ahead. The thin rays of sunlight creeping through the curtains on a warm December morning, Izzy’s faint voice floating through the halls as she attempted to wake up AJ, the sweet smell of maple syrup, Ash’s calm, rhythmic heartbeat and his content eyes. A sight she hadn’t gotten used to yet, his unfocused eyes and dazed face was something that had been haunting her in her nightmares since the day she’d cast her eyes upon it.

She still wasn’t used to him being there.

First he had gone missing for over three months, then he had been in a coma for another two, then he had woken up not remembering his own name.

It had been a difficult year and a half for all of them, but they were getting through it. She was going to get him through it, that’s what she had vowed when they had exchanged wedding rings some sixteen years ago, that she would forever hold his hand and walk with him through fire if she had to. And while the past year had proven to be exactly that, her determination hadn’t wavered at all.

Surprisingly, Ash hadn’t either.

He accepted everything that had happened calmly, a little out of character for the man he used to be before the incident, but his composed attitude was what had managed to keep them afloat through these bad tidings.

Ash understood that he wouldn’t recover immediately so he didn’t force himself to get better. He didn’t hide anything from her, she was aware of every single thing he felt, all his nightmares, all his pain, he shared everything with her. He didn’t refrain from asking for help, even from the kids. He was working the hardest to get better and not giving up, reminding her every day of the reason she had fallen in love with him in the first place.

“How’d you know I was up? I thought you slept in the twins’ room last night.” Ash asked, very close to finishing the pancakes.

“Turns out our daughter is a huge kicker, I barely got any sleep last night trying to avoid her feet,” Misty said, opening her eyes briefly, only to notice that the fruits were completely untouched, “Ash. You have to eat everything on the tray.”

Ash groaned in reply, “How about we share?”

“I already ate two hours ago,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“Wow, you really didn’t sleep at all.” Ash muttered, picking up a tiny grape from the bowl and popping it in his mouth.

“Uh huh. And I still have to get AJ to his session, so do you really want to put me in a bad mood right now?” Misty lifted her head to glance at Ash, a small smile playing on her lips.

“For the sake of my son’s safety, I shall eat everything in this bowl,” Ash said, laughing lightly.

Misty settled her head on his shoulder once more, replaying the sound of his laughter in her mind again and again as it was something she didn’t get to hear often these days. She didn’t realize when she drifted off to sleep, she was surrounded by so much warmth and everything smelled like Ash that she almost didn’t want to wake up. But remembering the big day ahead of her she forced her eyes to open only to see that afternoon had already settled in.

She reached out her hands to find that the bed next to her was empty which made her sit up immediately. Ash liked to spend Sundays resting inside since that was the only day they didn’t have any visitors so it was a little concerning when he wasn’t in their room. Climbing out of all the blankets that she was sure was the work of her husband, she rushed down the stairs following the voice of her daughter’s laughter and ended up in the kitchen to find Ash and the little devils standing around the stove, inspecting something extremely black.

Ash noticed her instantly, and put up an apologetic pout, “Misty, I can explain-“

“Dad wanted to cook lunch for you!” Izzy giggled, interrupting her father before he even had the chance to begin.

“But he really sucks at it,” AJ added, snickering, and immediately Ash lightly smacked his head to get the boy to shut up, his face turning red as Misty just stood in the kitchen doorway, staring blankly at them.

“I followed Mom’s recipe exactly the way it was written and it still ended up like this,” Ash started again, throwing a scowl in the direction of the pan filled with something that could only be described as stuff, “Honestly, I just wanted to do something nice for you beca-“ He didn’t get to finish again because within seconds Misty covered the distance between them and jumped into his arms, a little surprised he still managed to catch her wrapping his arms safely around her. She answered his confusion by pressing her lips to his and it didn’t take long for Ash to respond. She could hear her son shouting there are kids in this room in the background, but at that moment she decided that she had never been happier.

#writersmonth2021 #writealot #pokeshipping #pokeani #this one i'm tagging since it does have shippy moments

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much-obliged-timothy · 4 years ago

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So I was reading a fanfic for a different fandom where a character ends up the single father of an oops baby and...

Anyway, here’s a totally self-indulgent “what if Tim accidentally had a child” fic ft. Rhys accidentally befriending the kid and being very panicked about it (and yes I will be more than happy to write more of this weird AU if anyone wants to read it)

Rhys paced his office nervously. “Zer0, did I make a mistake? Oh my god. I can’t believe I agreed to employ a doppelganger of Handsome Jack.”

The vault hunters had contacted him with an absolutely bizarre story. While invading Handsome Jack’s casino, they’d found his sole surviving doppelganger, a man named Timothy Lawrence. Timothy had been all too eager to get out of the casino once they’d claimed it for themselves, but had nowhere to go and, they’d warned, was lacking a bit in his social skills after seven years of being locked in a casino where almost everyone wanted him dead.

Still, the man had apparently proved highly adept at business when they needed help getting issues for the casino sorted. Moxxi thought he’d be an asset to Rhys, appearances aside.

Rhys had them send over a resume and some examples of Timothy’s work, and was surprised to find that Tim was actually highly skilled at business negotiations and research. He had experience helping Hyperion develop new weapons and other various tech, and had worked as a vault hunter for Jack at one point, giving him valuable combat experience.

So Rhys had agreed to take him on, at least on a trial period to see how things went. Today was the day Tim would arrive, and Rhys couldn’t stop fretting that Tim would be too similar to Jack to bear.

“He helped Jack rise to power, they said,” Rhys babbled, his anxiety growing. “What if he’s just like Jack? I don’t think I can take that ego again. This is such a mistake!”

Zer0 watched him pace, but offered no comfort. He didn’t seem to have any concerns over the situation.

There was a knock on the door and Rhys froze, shooting a look at Zer0. Zer0 touched his gun then gestured to the door, a silent assurance that he would handle it if things got out of hand.

Rhys didn’t enjoy the thought of anyone being shot in his office, but he enjoyed the thought of being protected from Handsome Jack 2.0. “Come in.”

The door swung open and in came Handsome Jack. Rhys stared at his face for a long moment before shaking himself. Tim’s hair was longer than Jack’s, the mask on his face cracked. He had a cybernetic hand that was fidgeting with the visitor badge pinned to his jacket. He certainly had Jack’s sense of how to dress for the job; he wore jeans and a hoodie with a jacket over it instead of anything dressy.

Tim noticed Rhys eyeing his clothes and shifted awkwardly. “Uh, sorry. No money to buy anything nicer right now. I’m Timothy Lawrence. I know the mask has to go, too, but I��m arranging to have these stupid clips removed with it.”

Rhys processed his words, but only distantly. When Tim had shifted, he’d revealed that he wasn’t alone.

Tim again noticed where Rhys’s gaze went, and fidgeted more with his pass. “So, the job? Moxxi got me set up with a place to live nearby for now. I just moved in yesterday, so I’m ready to start whenever you need me to.”

Rhys continued staring. He had not been informed that Tim wouldn’t be coming alone.

Tim sighed quietly and nudged the little boy out from behind his legs. The boy stared distrustfully at Rhys, clutching a tattered teddy bear with the Hyperion logo on its stomach to himself.

“This is my son, Phoenix,” Tim explained. “I, uh, don’t exactly have a sitter. Hard to have contacts when you’ve been locked in a casino for seven years.”

Obviously Tim had found a way to pass the time. The boy couldn’t be any older than five or six, with skin a few shades darker than Tim’s, messy, ruddy hair, a splattering of freckles over his cheeks and nose, and hazel eyes. His left eye had a familiar strip of blue amongst the hazel.

“You said I get my own office? Can I see it?” Tim said, shooting Rhys a pleading look.

“Oh, um, right, yes,” Rhys said, fixing his already straight tie.

“Hey, stay here. We’ll be right back,” Tim said.

The boy’s eyes widened in terror, but Tim smiled and ruffled his hair. Phoenix clutched at Tim’s jacket.

“I’ll be right back,” Tim repeated. “That guy there? He was a vault hunter, just like I was. He’ll keep an eye on you for a few minutes.”

Phoenix looked over his shoulder at Zer0. His curiosity seemed to win out over his distrust as he eyed Zer0.

Tim took the opportunity to slip out of the room, Rhys following. They walked in awkward silence until they reached the office Rhys had secured for Tim.

“Okay,” Tim said, shutting the door as soon as they were inside. “Look, I kinda had a, uh, thing with a friend named Ember. We’d been stuck in that casino for a while at that point and everyone was trying to kill me and we just- got careless a few times. Phoenix was born in that damned place. He lived his whole life in there, hidden between me, Ember, and a friend of Ember’s from the vice district. Ember told me to take him with me to Promethea so he could experience life in the real world. Not that this shithole planet is fancy living, but-” He stopped and groaned. “Sorry, injected with Jack’s DNA. Anyways, please, he’s scared to be alone.”

No one had warned Rhys that in addition to getting a traumatized employee, he’d be getting the man’s traumatized son as well. But what was he going to do? Turn him out onto the streets?

Rhys sighed quietly. He hated kids, mostly because he had no idea how to talk to them and they frightened him.

“He can’t go into meetings with you,” he said at last.

Tim looked so relieved that Rhys didn’t even regret the decision. “Thank you. Really, thank you. Oh, finally, a CEO who isn’t an absolute dick. He’s no trouble, really. He’ll stay in my office with me, and he thinks everyone wants to kill him so it’s not like he’ll go bothering anyone.”

At Rhys’s startled look, Tim grimaced. He touched his mask and shrugged.

“Look, I’m not going to lie. My kid is…” He cursed softly. “I didn’t want that for him. But I had no choice. I started teaching him about guns when he was three. We taught him how to hide, and not to trust anyone. It was the only way we could keep him safe. It’s going to take time to break him of all that. B-But I’m a good worker! I won’t make you regret this! Well, I mean, the occasional Jack moments probably will, but other than that, no regrets. I hope.”

This was too much to handle right now. “You need to go get fingerprinted downstairs. Then we’ll get you settled and go over your schedule and duties.”

Business. He could do business. He couldn’t do a traumatized Handsome Jack doppelganger with a paranoid son.

“Right, let me just go let Phoenix know,” Tim said, opening the office door.

“That’s a cool name,” Rhys said as they started along the hallway.

Tim shrugged again. “Ember wanted something with fire. I guess we thought it was fitting, since he was born in the wake of Jack’s death and my, uh, sort of freedom. I mean, I still had a bomb in my face and was trapped in a casino. But no more Jack ordering me about.”

He at least didn’t sound bothered by Jack’s death, so Rhys took some comfort in the fact that Tim appeared not to hold any loyalty to his former boss. Moxxi had claimed Timothy hated Jack, but Rhys was still worried after everything he’d been through with the AI Jack.

They stepped back into Rhys’s office, and Phoenix was immediately back at his father’s side, clutching Tim’s jacket in one hand and his bear in the other. Tim squeezed his shoulder and gently pried his hand off.

“I need to go get fingerprinted, Phoenix,” he said. “I’m just going to be right downstairs.”

The kid looked torn. Rhys felt a flash of pity.

“It should only be fifteen minutes if they’re not busy,” he said. Maybe knowing how long Tim would be gone would calm the kid.

“Fifteen minutes,” Tim said, smiling. “That’s nothin’, pal. I take longer in the shower.”

“You take forever in the shower,” Phoenix said, but grabbed Tim’s jacket again.

Once again, Tim gently pried his hand away. “Fifteen minutes, pal. Then I’ll be back.”

Phoenix watched his father leave the room and began to pace silently, keeping Rhys, Zer0, and the door in view as he did so. He was rubbing the band of a watch strapped to his wrist, far too big for him. Rhys realized it was a digistruct watch, and sat down in the hopes he wouldn’t spook the kid into summoning whatever was stored in there.

Phoenix kept shooting a look to Rhys’s cybernetic arm, looking like he wanted to say something. He kept snapping his eyes back to the door, but his gaze would drift back to the arm.

Rhys finally held it up. “It’s, uh, it’s an Atlas cybernetic. State of the art.”

“Dad has one,” he said, holding up his hand. “He lost his hand in the casino.”

“That’s because Handsome Jack is a controlling asshole,” Rhys said, then snapped his mouth shut. Shit, could he swear in front of kids? Was that legal?

But Phoenix stared at him, slowing his pacing. “You knew him?”

“Sort of,” Rhys said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We...worked together? Sort of? He tried to kill me. Not a good time.”

The distrust on his face evaporated a little. “He locked my mom and dad in the casino. Dad said he’s a freaking asshole. But I’m not s’posed to call anyone else that word.” He pointed to his eye with the sliver of blue in it. “Dad said that was Jack’s last ‘screw you’.”

Rhys stared at Zer0 for help. He hadn’t expected to shit talk Jack with a little kid today, and wasn’t sure what to do now that it had started.

“Much more lively now/He must like you a lot Rhys/You have made a friend,” Zer0 said.

“You talk funny,” Phoenix said.

“He speaks in haikus,” Rhys explained. “Well, mostly.”

Phoenix frowned. “I dunno that language. My mom speaks French.”

Rhys laughed in surprise. “Oh, no, it’s not a language. It’s a type of poetry.”

“Oh,” Phoenix said, then shrugged in a movement that perfectly mimicked Tim’s.

Rhys couldn’t help but stare a little as the boy resumed his pacing. He wondered if any of his features had been inherited from Tim’s original appearance. He wondered if it was hard for Tim to look at his kid and see both himself and Jack in him.

Rhys busied himself with paperwork to keep from staring any longer. However, as fifteen minutes passed, and then another five, and then even more, Phoenix’s pacing grew faster.

He rubbed at the band of his watch more, eyes locked on the door. He looked terrified, checking the time yet again and hugging his bear tighter.

“They were probably just busy,” Rhys said, because as much as he didn’t like kids, he felt bad seeing one break down right in front of him. “He’s okay.”

“What if he’s dead?” His voice cracked a little and he paced even faster, clutching the bear so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Rhys got up and slowly approached. “Hey. Hey, Phoenix. It’s safe here, okay? No one here will hurt him. I promise.”

“But he looks like that freaking asshole!” Phoenix said, pointing at his eye again.

“I know, but I warned my people he’d be coming today. They all know he isn’t really Jack. No one is going to hurt your dad,” Rhys assured. Phoenix still looked scared and frantic, so Rhys tried a different approach. He held his cybernetic hand out and let an image come up in his palm. “Have you ever seen a skag before?”

Phoenix nodded his head, looking torn between watching the door and looking at the holographic image. “Uh-huh. But just one.”

Rhys let the holograph play out. “Look how they run! I got stuck on Pandora years ago, and these things were scary.”

“Pandora?” He tugged at the ear of his bear. “Dad said it’s a shithole. I’m not s’posed to say that, though. Mom gets mad and says dad has a dirty mouth.”

“It kind of is a shithole,” Rhys agreed. “Promethea is much better. I think you’ll like it here. You and your dad can explore this weekend when he’s not working.”

His eyes shot to the door again. “But he’s not back!”

“He’ll come back,” Rhys said. “I won’t let anyone hurt him while he’s here. I promise.”

His eyes widened and he looked at Rhys. He seemed torn between distrust and hope.

The matter was settled as Tim reappeared in the room, looking out of breath. “Sorry. Some freaking idiot down there couldn’t find her ID and held up the whole line. I- Umph!”

Phoenix launched himself at Tim, wrapping his little arms around Tim’s waist tightly. There were tears silently rolling down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey.” Tim knelt down and hugged him, kissing his head. “I’m okay. I’m right here, pal. I’m okay. I’m sorry I took so long.”

He stood up with Phoenix in his arms, running gentle fingers through his messy hair. Phoenix nuzzled his head against Tim’s neck, wiping at his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Tim said, kissing him again. “I have shitty time management skills. Oops, don’t tell your mom I swore again.”

Phoenix put an arm around Tim’s neck to hold onto him. “Dad, this guy showed me a skag. On his hand!”

“‘This guy’ is my boss,” Tim said. “A skag, huh? Can’t say I missed Pandora’s brand of cannon fodder creatures.”

“You and me both,” Rhys said, standing up.

“Can you show dad?” Phoenix said, pointing to Rhys’s hand. “They look so stupid.”

Rhys brought up the image again. With his dad safely back with him, Phoenix was much more interested, peering at it with curious eyes.

Tim wiggled the fingers of his cybernetic hand. “Yea, mine doesn’t do that. Cool, though.”

“One of the vault hunters who saved us had a skag,” Phoenix said. “And a...a...something else.”

“Jabber. You saw their jabber,” Tim said. “Shit-flinging, obnoxious beasts.”

Phoenix tightened his hold on Tim. “You’re not s’posed to swear, dad.” He gave Tim the hint of a grin. “Gotta shut me up.”

“Ice cream it is,” Tim said with a long sigh. “After work, though. I’ve got to earn money to afford to bribe you, pal. So, let’s get on with it, Rhys.”

Rhys took Tim and showed him around a bit before bringing him back to his office. As Tim had assured, Phoenix was quiet the whole time, just clinging to Tim. When they reached the office, he sat in a chair in the corner, playing with his tattered bear and not bothering either man as they went over Tim’s schedule and duties.

“Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in and do the basic paperwork,” Rhys said, shaking Tim’s hand. “If you have any questions, you know where my office is. You’ll be primarily reporting to me.”

“Hey,” Phoenix said as Rhys headed for the door. He was clutching his bear tightly again, glancing from his dad to Rhys before blurting out, “Can you tell me about Pandora sometime?”

“Oh,” Rhys said in surprise. “Yea, sure. I mean, a lot of my experience involves me being in fear for my life. But, sure.”

“Hey, been there done that on Elpis, kiddo,” Tim said. “Phoenix, let him get back to work. You can help me get some papers organized, if you want.”

Phoenix hopped off the chair. “M’kay, dad. See ya, boss guy.”

Rhys left the office and stared at the door once he’d closed it. Today had not gone as he’d expected, not at all. And he had a sinking feeling he’d accidentally made the kid like him.

Great. He’d been so worried about dealing with a Handsome Jack doppelganger, and now his bigger problem was a small, curious child. Rhys wondered if life would ever let him catch a break.

Part 2

#borderlands #timothy lawrence #borderlands rhys #rhys strongfork #borderlands au #borderlands fic #My writing

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stubbornness-and-spite · 4 years ago

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the ink on our skin and the blood in our hearts(are intertwined): Chapter One

I finally wrote the EJ/Nini/Ricky soulmate fic I’ve been craving(the first 5 chapters at least). AO3 link in reblog

previous chapter | next chapter

Fandom: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series

Genre: slowburn soulmate au with sprinklings of fluff and angst

Notes: I didn’t want to rewrite scenes that were essentially the same as canon just with a little bit of soulmate au mixed in, so I only wrote in the scenes that were either different or we didn’t see them in canon to begin with. Any scenes I left out happened basically the same as canon.

In this universe, soulmates share any ink or marks on their skin after the youngest soulmate turns 16. Makeup companies design their products to not transmit through soulbonds.

Let me know if anything(timeline/universe/POV switches/etc) is unclear and if I should edit. I’m open to critisism, but be aware that this is unbetaed and I am writing it for fun.

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1471

Summary: Ricky Bowen and Nini Salazar-Roberts have known they were going to be soulmates since they were in kindergarten. They had is all planned out. Ricky would turn sixteen to blank skin and two months later when Nini turned sixteen, their skin would share ink. Fate cares little for the plans of kindergarteners.

E.J. Caswell doesn't believe in soulmates. Oh, he believes that there are people who share ink, but he doesn't believe that marks on anyone's skin are enough to dictate how people live their lives. He's never seen a mark on his own skin and he never plans to make a mark his soulmate can see. Fate cares as much for the stubbornness of teenagers as she does the plans of kindergarteners.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Ricky POV

When Ricky turned sixteen, his arms were blank, and he called Nini immediately.

“Nini, Nini, Nini!” he shouted into the phone as soon as she answered. “I don’t have any marks!”

“Ricky?” Nini asked groggily, yawning and blinking sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Just after midnight on my sixteenth birthday!” Ricky exclaimed. “Why are you asleep?”

Nini yawned. “Because it’s also just after midnight during tech week, and I had rehearsal until 11 and again at 6 am tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Ricky mumbled.

“It’s fine,” Nini replied. She yawned and sat up. “I’m awake now. Tell me what happened!”

“I have no marks!” Ricky exclaimed again.

“Oh?” Nini asked. “ Oh, ” she repeated. “Your soulmate’s younger than you.”

“Or I don’t have one, or they just never bothered to write anything, but what are the odds of that?” Ricky asked through a wide grin. “Now we just have to wait until your birthday!”

“Two months,” Nini said softly. “Two months and we’ll know.”

“Yeah,” Ricky sighed fondly. “Two months.”

“What if-” Nini cut herself off and started again. “What if we don’t match? What if my birthday comes and I don’t have any marks either or I have someone else’s marks?”

“It won’t happen, Nini,” Ricky reassured her. “And if it does, we’ll figure it out.”

(chapter continues under the cut)

Two months went by quickly. Ricky went to see Nini perform in some show he couldn’t remember the name of. He didn’t know enough about theater to compliment her properly, so he told her that she lit up the stage. He also gave her a few compliments that he’d picked from a list online. It was the thought that counted.

They spent most of their free time in Nini’s bedroom or Big Red’s basement, swapping stories that they both already knew.

Ricky begged his dad to let him stay the night at Nini’s on her sixteenth birthday, and they stayed up until midnight to see if anything appeared on her skin. Around 11:30, Nini changed into her shortest pair of shorts and a tube top to show as much of her skin as possible. At 11:45, Ricky considered writing on his hand for the first time but decided not to, wanting to wait until he could see the line appear on Nini’s hand too. At 12:01, a splotch of ink appeared on Nini’s right shoulder. At 12:02, Ricky stopped breathing.

“I didn’t do that,” he whispered. “I didn’t spill ink on my shoulder.” His hand drifted to cover the spot on his shirt that mirrored the mark on Nini’s shoulder.

Nini tugged a sweater on and slid her legs under the blanket. “This doesn’t have to change anything. I love you, Ricky.”

“I-” Ricky’s eyes were wide. “I don’t-” His breathing quickened. “Maybe we should take a pause. You’re going away for the summer and I just-” His breath caught. “I need some time, Nini.”

“Okay,” Nini murmured. “Okay.”

“I’m just going to-” Ricky pointed at Nini’s bedroom door and stumbled towards it, clumsily pulling it open. “I’ll see you?” Nini didn’t respond and Ricky pulled the door shut.

Carol had driven him home without asking any questions, which Ricky was grateful for because he didn’t think he could answer without crying. Soulmates were supposed to be the thing that kept people together. He thought he loved Nini, but Ricky knew that wasn’t enough. His parents were proof of that. They’d both gone against the system when they were younger and had thought they were in love with people who weren’t their soulmates, but they had ended up together anyway. Nothing was stronger than soulmates and Nini wasn’t his.

Ricky slipped in his front door without waking his dad and fell asleep in his clothes, on top of his blankets, never noticing the spot of ink on his shoulder that was washed away by morning.

The summer went by in a blur. Ricky swore up and down it was the longest summer he’d ever lived, but at the same time, it was over in the blink of an eye and he was seeing Nini again.

He wanted to try again with her. Maybe soulmates weren’t everything because he was miserable without Nini. Maybe even if they did end up with their soulmates eventually, they could share the rest of high school with each other.

“I met someone.”

Ricky’s heart stopped. “You’re kidding, right? It was a break, not a breakup.”

“Well, it’s a breakup now.”

And what the hell was he supposed to do with that?

EJ POV

EJ was glad when his sixteenth birthday rolled around and his skin was blank. Maybe he was one of the lucky few without a soulmate. He hated the idea of soulmates. He wanted to control his own life, to decide for himself who he was going to spend it with, not have his life dictated by whose skin shared ink with his.

He went out of his way to make sure he never wrote on himself or let anyone else draw or write on his skin. He carried bandaids and wipes with him everywhere so if he ever got a cut, he could keep the blood from staining his soulmate’s skin. Ashlynn insisted that he was being ridiculous, but EJ was adamant. He was not going to have a soulmate. He was going to love whoever he wanted.

And he did. He dated a lot of different girls and didn’t care at all when they left him for their soulmates, whether they had met them yet or not. He didn’t care at all. He just moved onto the next girl.

He made it until the summer before his eighteenth birthday without incident. The few times he got ink on himself, a few times on his hands, and once on his left shoulder when a pen burst, he washed it off completely before the next day and he never saw a message back.

The summer before he turned eighteen he met Nini. She was the first girl he’d met who had turned sixteen, seen her soulmate marks, and wasn’t searching for her soulmate. He fell a little bit in love with her right then and there. Then he heard her sing and saw her act and he fell for her even more. By the time they actually started talking, EJ was head over heels for the girl and ready to run away from the soulmate system and off into the sunset with her.

“Where are you headed once camp’s over?” EJ asked, as close to Nini as he could be without actually having his arm around her.

“Back to Salt Lake City,” she replied. “We go to the same school, EJ.”

“I’m stupid!” EJ hit his forehead with his palm and grinned. “How have we not talked before now? You’re amazing.”

Nini snorted and rolled her eyes with a smile. “You’re sweet. I’ve been kind of under a rock for the past few years. I’ve been in the ensemble of the last few musicals but I really only talk to Kourtney, Big Red, and…” she trailed off.

“Who else?” EJ prompted.

“Ricky,” Nini said, her voice turning slightly sharp. Her bright smile dimmed. “We’ve been friends since kindergarten and kinda-dating since middle school. We started actually dating at the start of sophomore year. We kind of broke up when summer started.”

“How do you kind of break up with someone?” EJ asked. “How does anyone break up with you?”

Nini laughed. “He’s a few months older than me and we always thought we’d be soulmates, so he was really excited when his skin was blank on his sixteenth birthday, but when my sixteenth birthday rolled around and I had ink on me that he hadn’t drawn, he freaked out. He was supposed to be my soulmate, whatever the ink on our skin said, but when he saw someone else’s ink, he said we should “take a break.” Whatever that means.”

“It means he’s not good enough for you,” EJ said, smiling earnestly.

“And you are?” Nini asked.

EJ sputtered. “I wasn’t saying that, but…” he hesitated. “I’d like to try to be? If that’s something you want too?”

“EJ Caswell, are you asking me out?”

EJ coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Was that not clear?”

Nini pushed her hair out of her face and grinned. “No, it was clear, but I want you to ask me properly anyway.”

EJ pulled away from her and lifted himself up onto one knee. “Nini… I-don’t-know-your-last-name,”

“Salazar-Roberts,” Nini said, her smile practically splitting her face.

“Nini Salazar-Roberts,” EJ continued. “Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

Nini pretended to think it over. “On one condition.”

“Which is?”

Nini leaned forward and kissed him quickly. “If you be my boyfriend.”

Taglist - let me know if you want to be added or removed!

@after-nine-at-the-oasis

#hsmtmts #hsm the series #hsmtmts fic #nini hsmtmts #ricky hsmtmts #ej hsmtmts #nini salazar roberts #ricky bowen #ej caswell #poly ship #soulmarks #soulmate au #ot3

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years ago

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21.12, trees and traditions, adam page

Title: trees and traditions

Theme: trees/decorating

Fandom / Character(s): Adam Page x Ivy, an OC of mine from a fic I keep abandoning.

Warnings: Bittersweet reunions, single mom au, awkward tension, fluff if you squint. Bad fluff, but fluff, all the same.

Word Count: my guesstimate is roughly around 1.6k

So... I wrote this on a whim. It’s taken Adam Page and my original character Ivy, from that twice tried/twice abandoned fic that I still want to write so bad I can taste it, and it’s put... new things into play. And maybe.. if enough people like this... maybe I’ll be tempted to actually do something with this version, because to be honest, I liked this version better than the previous 2. This is my entry for the day for @champbucks 12 Days of Christmas challenge.

Tagging:

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I knelt on the carpet in my new living-room, a big cardboard box in front of me, unwrapping ornaments. My son was passed out on the couch, surrounded by action figures. Nightmare Before Christmas was playing quietly for background noise because if I didn’t have some form of background noise, I’d be jumping at every little sound.

I’d just gotten out the tangled string of lights and started to work on untangling them when I heard a knock at the front door of the cabin. Right away, I tensed. My stomach tightened right up and every possible scenario I could imagine -and none of them particularly good, flew into my mind.

Before I realized what I was doing, I’d stood and my hand wrapped around the old wooden Louisville slugger that served as my only form of home protection for the time being as I cautiously made my way to the front door.

I let out a long and ragged breath when I saw Adam standing on the step, leaning against a thick wooden porch post.

After my heart finally climbed it’s way down out of my throat, I opened the door and peeked out. “Adam? My mom told me you were still on the road.”

He shrugged, stepping closer. He looked as if he wanted to hug me, but he wasn’t sure if doing it were a good idea or not. Just seeing him again after all this time though… Realizing just how much I’d truly missed the man. Among other things hanging around in the back of my mind at the moment.

I pressed against him, looping my arms around his neck, smiling up at him. The bat I’d been holding and totally forgotten about clattered to wooden floorboards noisily and from the open doorway, my son spoke up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Mama? You’re lettin all the heat out.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” I broke the hug with Adam reluctantly and turned, kneeling down in front of my son, smiling. I looked back over my shoulder at Adam, who was gaping and then back to my son, whose entire face lit up.

He raised a hand, pointing it at Adam. “I..He.. We just watched him on the tv earlier, mama!”

“We did, sweetheart. Can you do mom a favor?” I smiled at my son.

“What you want me to do, mama?”

“Go back inside. You’re barefoot and it’s freezing out, slugger and if you got sick, I…” I hugged my son tight and he laughed, trying to push me away as I licked the side of his face. “Ew, mama, don’t cow lick me!”

“I’m supposed to. That’s what mama cows do to their calves, champ.”I laughed as I watched my son step back in the door. But he snuck over to the window right beside it, I could see his little fingers on the plaid curtain panels.

I turned back to look at Adam. His hand was resting against the back of his head and finally, after a minute or two of his mouth opening and closing, he chuckled.

“He’s a cute kid. Took after his mom, I see.”

I gulped. I forgot just how much Adam’s flirting affected me. And what a visceral effect it had always been. Or maybe it just had the punch it had now because I hadn’t seen him in so long and now, here he was.

Standing right in front of me, quite literally, the one who got away.

“Ivy, I.” Adam started to say something, but I raised my fingertip to his lip, pressing it against. I know him like I know the back of my hand, we grew up together. We were in love once. I still love him, even if I can’t have him. I knew he was about to apologize for that last night we were together, the huge fight we had after he proposed and I freaked out on him. And honestly, in the time that’s lapsed since, I’ve come to the realization that he has no reason to. I was the one who flipped out and then left town in a hurry.

“Adam, no. I’m the one who should be apologizing right now, okay? But when you started talking like that back then, I… I kinda panicked. We were kids and I was nowhere near ready to handle that level of commitment.

,, and yet, when you became ready, Ivy, you somehow managed to find the worst man possible to get involved with. What you should’ve done, and you know it, is come back here. Settled down with Adam. Stopped trying so hard to escape this little town and embraced it, because really, was it any better out there? No.” my mind was tormenting. I tried to put the thought out and flashing him a gentle smile, I stepped out of the doorway, turning the knob to open the door. I thought if I turned away from him, just for a second, I could pull myself together.

“Listen, Adam. It’s freezing out here and I have a tree to decorate. So, if you want to catch up? I think we should move it inside.” I gave a soft laugh. Every part of me thought that he’d offer up an excuse and leave in a hurry. I didn’t expect him to want to hang around, but it didn’t stop me from wanting him to. From hoping against hope that he’d hang around, even if only for a little while.

Adam eyed the door and swallowed hard as his eyes fixed on me again. My eyes caught on the subtle bob of his throat as he did so, followed by the way his tongue trailed over his lips and I took a shaky breath. When he went to step into my grandma’s cabin, our bodies brushed just barely, and for the most fleeting of seconds. And everything came rushing right back, all over again.

How could I have ever been so stupid to just leave. Adam offered me the world on a silver platter and like an idiot, I ran. I had to know if the world was better. I had the whole world the whole time and I realized it way too late.

His hand lingered at my waist. An old habit. One I really missed. I swallowed hard, my eyes drifting up, meeting his as I did my best to put on my best friendly and neutral smile, despite the plethora of emotions that were fighting to the surface.

,, you’re not in the right place right now, Ivy. Not at all.” my brain weighed in on the situation at hand. I pushed any and all thought or emotion I may have been feeling out of my head for the moment. We stepped into the living room of the cabin and Adam let out a low, approving whistle at the Christmas tree tucked in the spot by the window and near the fireplace.

Just like Grams always did every single year.

“How’d you get that tree in here, hon?” Adam’s voice shattered through my thoughts and I glanced up from the box of ornaments I’d been hovering over because I’d seen an envelope sitting towards one side.

I straightened, wiping my hands on my favorite pair of jeans and shrugged. “Dragged it, mostly. It wasn’t that heavy.”

Adam nodded, going quiet again. He reached out, taking an ornament from the box on the coffee table between us and as he put it on the tree, he asked, “So is this.. Is it permanent, I mean.. My dad, he said somethin about a movin truck being parked up here for about two nights. Didn’t know you were the one who bought the place.”

I dragged my fingers through my hair and eyed the tree, glancing down briefly at the heavily glittered star shaped piece of construction paper in my hand and I cleared my throat, getting my son’s attention. “Hey, champ. This is your ornament, bud. Hang it wherever you want it to go.”

“Okay, but I made it for th’ top, mama.”

I’d been about to lift him up, despite my reach not being much of a difference, but Adam bent down, hefting my laughing son up onto his shoulders and then he stood up, letting my son place the ornament just below the very top of the tree, where the topper my grandma always used was going to go.

He was smiling as he stood my son safely back on his feet and for just a minute or two, my mind actually went there. I actually pictured how things might have been if I’d listened to my heart all along instead of being stubborn.

I’d always thought Adam would make an amazing dad one day.

My son hugged his legs and then asked me if I was ready for the popcorn we made to make a popcorn garland earlier and I smiled, nodding. I called out to him as he disappeared into the next room, “Don’t you eat all that popcorn, Dean!”

“Aw, mama! Just a few pieces!”

“You heard me, little man.” I gave him that firm look and he nodded, disappearing completely into the kitchen.

It left Adam and I alone all over again. And I realized that I had yet to answer the question he asked a few minutes ago. The tension in the air around us was so thick I almost couldn’t breathe and at this point, I’d have given anything to alleviate it.

“To answer your question… The move is permanent. There’s only so much I can take…” I trailed off. It wasn’t fair to dump out my problems on him. I wasn’t going to do that. I was the one who got myself into the mess I was in right now. I needed to be the one to get myself out and so far, so good. Things already felt a thousand times better.

I felt more at peace since I’d taken my mom up on the offer of moving into Gram’s cabin than I’d felt in years.

Adam eyed me, concern filling baby blue eyes. But he didn’t ask anything. He nodded in understanding. We reached for another ornament, the same one, and our fingers brushed together clumsily. We stared at each other a second or two, with Adam pulling his hand away first and mumbling an apology before turning away quickly, busying himself with placing the ornaments in his hand on the tree.

I cleared my throat. “If you were going to ask, I’m fine. Better now, actually.”

He turned around and our bodies brushed just slightly all over again. His hands went to my elbows as if he were going to steady me and he gazed down at me as if there were a million things he wanted to say, but he didn’t even know where to start. And I felt the same. Seeing him again was both a comfort and a torture.

A comfort because instinctively, I knew I was home. I was safe and the crap of more recent years was about to be over and behind me.

Torture, because I was now confronted with everything I never even knew I wanted.

“You’re sure, right? He didn’t… hurt you or anythin’?”

I sighed and shrugged. “I signed myself up for it.” my gaze dropped down to the box of ornaments and apparently, he wasn’t having it. His fingers tucked beneath my chin and he made me look him in the eyes.

“You didn’t ask for anythin’ he did. None of it’s your fault, okay? I don’t care what happened. It ain’t my business. But I know you, Ivy. And I care.” he went quiet and I bit my lip, mulling over what he said. Seeing him get stirred up like he just had on my behalf only reminded me just how loyal he’d been. Just how much he protected me.

,, and just how for granted you took that.” the thought finished itself in my mind and I took a deep breath or two. “Thank you.”

I went quiet after saying it, because there was so much more I wanted to say, but I wasn’t in the shape to say it right now. Adam shrugged, flashing me that lopsided grin. Trying to lighten the mood.

“I mean it, Ivy.. If you two need anything, I’m right down the road, darlin.” he spoke up again for a few seconds and I nodded, smiling. I know I won’t ask for help unless I absolutely have to, but I know Adam wouldn’t be the amazing man he is if he didn’t offer. And I knew he meant it too.

“I forgot how well we worked together.” I blurted it out as we were finishing up with the last of the ornaments on the tree. My son slunk in, flopping down on the couch with the bowl of popcorn and the string and I flopped down next to him, nodding to the empty spot on the other side of the old plaid couch so Adam would sit.

Adam smiled and sank down, talking to my son. “Whatcha got there?”

“Mama said we’re gonna put all this on th’ tree, sir.”

Adam cringed a little, but he didn’t discourage my son from using the polite term. I smiled at him over my son’s head and he smiled back. I found myself wondering if maybe he weren’t thinking back to shared family Christmases between our families.

The way we were the ones who always opted to do this. The way in later years, we’d always retreat to the living room and turn on It’s A Wonderful Life, snuggle up on my grandma’s couch with the bowl on the table in front of us as we strung popcorn for the tree and tossed kernels into each other’s mouths.

“Your mama n me.. We used to do this when we were little.” Adam chuckled, catching my gaze. Giving me this fond and soft little smile. I smiled back and nodded, reaching for a handful of popcorn. “We weren’t as good as you were though, champ. Because when Adam and I were doing this, we usually ate most of the popcorn before we ever got around to stringing it.”

“We did not!”

“We did, Adam.”

“Your mama did.” Adam teased, giving me a wink. I gave him a playful pout and when my son was caught up in stringing a few kernels onto the string for the garland, I took a kernel or two from the bowl and lazily tossed them at Adam, who opened his mouth, snapping it closed as soon as he’d caught the piece or two that I’d thrown.

I couldn’t help the laugh and the smile that came. Or the thought that followed which I promptly tried to push down deep.

,, Maybe Adam showing up tonight and helping you with the tree is a sign, Ivy… Things don’t have to be over. There’s always just a shred of hope. Christmas is the time for miracles, after all...”

#12 days of christmas #adam page fanfiction #adam page fanfic #adam page imagine #adam page imagines #adam page one shot #my writing; adam hangman page #my fics; adam hangman page #my one shots; adam hangman page

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novantinuum · 5 years ago

Text

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

#su #su future #steven universe #corrupted steven theory #su fanfic #garnet #amethyst #pearl #su fanfiction #corrupted steven #corrupt!steven #body horror #my writing stuff #the mighty 500

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starswallowingsea · 4 years ago

Text

The Same Stars in the Sky

Vivi and Kohza looked up to the sky and made pictures in the stars together. Even while they were apart, they knew the stars in the sky were the same.

MERRY CHRISTMAS @vannahfanfics ! I kinda took your “Vivi and Kohza go stargazing at an oasis” idea and put my own spin on it so I hope you like it ^.^ Also tagging @op-secret-santa-2020

Fandom: One Piece

Characters: Vivi, Kohza, Mr. 9 (briefly)

Word Count: 1721

---

“Alright, that’s all for tonight guys,” Kohza said, standing at the front of the group. “We’ll meet again next week, but hopefully it won’t go as long, haha.”

The other children got up and cheered before leaving.

“That was a lot of fun,” Vivi said, turning to Kohza.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, but it is getting late. Won’t your dad be mad at me for keeping you out so late?”

“Maybe a little bit, but he can’t control me!” Vivi exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air.

Vivi held the pose for a brief second before sitting down.

“I never realized how pretty the sky is away from the city,” she said.

“Yeah? Do you know any constellations?”

“Hmm… Igaram showed me a few on some old maps, but I haven’t tried finding them in the sky yet.”

Kohza sat down besides her and pointed to the sky. “That’s the Big Dipper right there.”

“There?” Vivi responded, tracing an outline of stars.

“Yeah, there. And this one is Ursa Major, the big bear.”

“I don’t really see it. Are you sure it’s a bear?”

“Well I didn’t make the constellations!”

“Who did?”

“Why do you think I know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm... is this a constellation?” Vivi said after a moment of silence, connecting a few stars with her finger.

“I don’t know. What do you think it would be called?”

“I think it should be called...the Palm Tree!”

“What kind of name is that? We already have palm trees all around us.”

“I think it looks kinda like a cactus with a bird on it…”

“Ah...uh, it’s a great name for a constellation! I think this one,” Kohza pointed up at a group of stars, “should be called the Igaram.”

Vivi snorted. It did kind of look like Igaram’s hair curls.

“Uhm...this one is a rain cloud!”

“A rain cloud?”

“Look…”

“I’m just kidding, I think it looks like a cloud too.”

“This is kinda like looking at clouds I think.”

“Like making shapes out of them?”

“Yeah! It’s fun, too.”

Kohza smiled and lay down on the ground. “It is fun, especially with you,” he said, voice trailing off at the end.

“What’d you say?” Vivi said, looking down at him.

“Ah, nothing. Why don’t you lay down too? The view is better from here.”

Vivi looked back up at the sky and leaned back too. They stayed like that for a while, occasionally pointing out constellations they made up before falling asleep in the sand.

---

It was a slow day at Whiskey Peak for Vivi. They had rationed out the food the best they could, but they would have to get more soon. Their boss didn’t particularly care that much for making sure his agents survived, that was for sure. It was a wonder people still followed him despite these conditions, but the promise of Utopia could make people overlook a lot of things, she supposed.

She needed some fresh air and time to herself, though. So she went and sat outside the tavern on a small rock. The sky was clear tonight and the stars were shining brightly, blissfully unaware of what was going on below them.

This was a rare moment of peace and quiet for Vivi and she allowed her mind to wander. It had been over a year since she and Igaram had infiltrated Baroque Works and they had managed to rise through the ranks very quickly. Unfortunately, they were separated for a time, with Vivi being partnered with Mr. 9 and Igaram with Miss Monday. But now they were back together, working to keep Whiskey Peak under control and steal resources from pirates who didn’t know what they were doing.

Before they left, though, she hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to her friends in the Sand-Sand clan. The knowledge that they thought she had gone missing a year ago and was unable to be found anywhere in Alabasta haunted her, but she couldn’t tell them what she was doing. She had to keep them safe at all costs, and the more people who knew about her mission, the more in danger she could be if someone leaked that she was spying in an underground organization.

Her mind drifted further to Kohza, who was undoubtedly the most heartbroken by her disappearance. She thought back to all those nights they spent in the desert, pointing out constellations in the night sky and laughing. Vivi looked up and tried to find some of the constellations that they had made. There was one that looked like Igaram somewhere…

---

“Miss Wednesday, are you okay?” someone asked behind her.

Vivi was startled by the sudden noise and almost fell off the rock she was sitting in.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I was just taking a break before going to bed is all,” she said.

“It’s been a long day, huh. Well don’t worry, tomorrow we’ll go and find more supplies and you can catch up on your sleep. I know it’s hard to get a good night’s rest in these beds but we have to make do for now.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said with a small chuckle. “Let’s get some rest. We have another long day ahead of us.”

Vivi turned around one last time and looked up at the stars.

Goodnight, Kohza, Papa, everyone. I’ll be home soon…

---

“...and we’ll need to send scouts for supply runs at some point. We’re running low on food and morale.”

“Understood. I’ll go out myself in the morning and see what I can find.”

“Are you sure? There’s no way you’ll be able to carry enough supplies for everyone on your own.”

“I’ll find someone to come with me on my way out, don’t worry.”

Kohza laid his head on the table as the other revolutionaries walked out of the tent to update their subordinates on the situation. Things weren’t looking good for them and he wasn’t sure what to do. His best friend had gone missing over a year ago, right around the time that things went to shit. He couldn’t help but wonder if what happened to Vivi was related to everything else that was going on.

He let out a sigh and stood up again. He needed to get some fresh air before tomorrow, and maybe it would help clear his head. Kohza pushed aside the tent flap and walked for a little while before finding a suitable rock to sit and stargaze on. Looking at the stars was one of the few things that grounded him these days. He could reminisce on his times with Vivi making constellations in the sky and laughing without a care in the world.

“I hope you’re okay, if you’re out there, Vivi,” he mumbled under his breath. He had to hold onto hope that she was alive, even if all signs pointed to her being dead. When she suddenly disappeared in the middle of the night at age 14, Kohza felt broken. Nobody knew what was going on and a huge search across the country began, but nothing turned up.

But deep in his heart, he knew she was alive somewhere, looking up at the same stars he was.

---

A year later, after a long and hard fight against Baroque Works and trying to prevent a civil war, Vivi finally felt like she could relax. She sank down into her bed after saying goodbyes to the Straw Hats and even though it was the middle of the day, she was exhausted. Vivi closed her eyes, intending to only rest for a minute or two…

---

Vivi woke up hours later, the sun had set and the stars were out.

“How long was I asleep?” she whispered to herself. She got out of bed and walked over to the window to admire the night sky. The stars were always beautiful, but there was something special about the view from her home, from Alabasta.

She wondered if Kohza was awake. After everything, Vivi had asked him to stay in the castle with them for a few days at least. Vivi very carefully opened her door and walked into the hallway, trying to remember which room he was staying in.

It didn’t take long for her to figure it out, but she did stand outside the door for several minutes debating if she should wake him up or not.

Vivi took a deep breath, calming her nerves before knocking. A grunt came from inside the room. He was awake at least.

“Kohza, you awake?” she asked, leaning closer to the door.

“Vivi? Is that you?”

“Yeah. I was wondering…” she trailed off for a second, realizing how childish she sounded. “...if you wanted to go stargazing like we did when we were kids?”

Silence.

Vivi waited for a few seconds, not hearing a response. She stepped back from the door, turning to go back to her room when the door opened up.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

---

Kohza took a blanket from his room and the two snuck out of the castle and ran out to the old stone outcrop they had used for sand-sand clan meetings as children.

“This really brings back memories, doesn’t it,” Kohza said, laying the blanket out on the sand.

“Yeah, it does. I never stopped thinking about it while I was gone,” Vivi said, sitting next to him.

“Me neither. It gave me something to hold on to during all of the planning and stress.”

Vivi chuckled, thinking about how similar their experiences over the past two years really were.

They looked up at the sky together, pointing out different shapes and making up their own, laughing together for the first time in two years.

“...and that one looks like Igaram,” Vivi said, tracing an outline of stars.

“Are you sure it’s not Terracotta?”

“I’m sure. Besides, Terracotta is right there, see?” she pointed to another cluster of stars next to the one she called Igaram.

---

The rest of the night, the two of them made constellations together, laughing together and reminiscing on their childhood.

Before falling asleep, Vivi swears she saw a constellation that looked like Luffy, and he smiled at her. Vivi smiled back and laid down in the desert sand with Kohza, just glad to be back home with him again.

#opsecretsanta2020 #op-secret-santa-2020 #one piece #nefertari vivi #kohza one piece #shay speaks #shay writes #that song in the first ask i sent u is basically what i listened to on loop while writing this jaipdsjfposd its just so soft and good <3 #anywhey. hope u like it!!!! i've been reading a few of your works and have one drafted so i can finally rb it #and u are very good at writing. bless ur soul #happy holidays vannah!

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evienovo · 3 years ago

Text

Firsts - First Sight

Fandom: Bleach Pairing: Chad/Lina (OC) Rating: G Contains: Awkward meet cute (…kinda), Spanish with translations, some fluff if you squint(?) Word count: 4,052 (yikes!)

❣️ Read on AO3 ❣️

Bleach is coming back and I'm (mostly) hyped, so I decided to start a little series of Chad & my OC Lina's relationship and I guess I'll post it here cus why not (gotta keep this blog alive somehow)

I haven't written fanfic in a minute, so any feedback would be great!!❤️

where are you??

Lina heard her phone vibrate for the third time in the last minute, surely another message from Ayame wanting to know where the hell she was. She squeezed past a couple of weary-looking salarymen, muttering her apologies before sprinting down the sidewalk once again.

She was a creature of habit, and her friends knew it, so her not being in school early was already strange; being late was worrying.

Another buzz made her pause and finally fish out her phone from her bag. She flipped it open to see a new unread message from “Mai<3”:

girl u alive?

She typed her reply furiously while almost running into the crossing at a green light.

woke up late, omw!

The cars passing and the little red man on the traffic light seemed to mock her as she bounced from one foot to the other, willing the light to turn green so she could haul ass and make it inside the school before the first bell.

She punched herself mentally for the nth time.

I’m never sleeping in again.

The little green man in the traffic box finally started walking and Lina took off before the street was completely clear, running the last two blocks to school as fast as her short legs could carry her. The second bell rang as she flew through the door of Miss Ochi’s classroom, startling one of her classmates in the process.

Ochi wasted no time in calling her class to order once they were all seated. After her usual greetings and attendance taking, she went straight into the discussion of a math homework that almost no one had put any effort into answering, dragging the already-wearing class more than necessary. Literature had them analyzing poem structures along with an assignment due in two days, and they started a new section in History, though Lina could swear they had just started the previous chapter three days ago. Oh, there was also a group project and presentation due towards the end of the semester; Ochi had already divided them into pairs, the list was in the back of the classroom and no , they couldn’t change partners, Mr. Asano.

Lina half-listened, trying her best to pay enough attention so that she could answer vaguely if she was called on. Her snoozing that morning had her attention drifting towards the trees outside their classroom, an itch in the back of her thigh that she couldn’t get while sitting and the BBQ beef and rice waiting for her in the bottom of her backpack.

All that running without stretching had taken a toll on her back and legs, which left her squirming in her seat trying to look for a comfortable spot while her eyes stared unseeingly at the kanji in her book. When lunch break finally came, she wasted no time in jumping out of her seat to work out all the knots in her back.

A group of students had gathered around the project partners list Miss Ochi had stuck to the wall. Lina heard a disgruntled noise from her right and turned to see her friends looking towards it.

“Gosh, group projects already?” Ayame plopped her bag on her desk with more force than necessary. “The semester just started!”

Lina yawned into her hand. “I guess they don’t wanna waste time this year.”

“Ugh…”

Once the crowd thinned, Mai skipped over to the list on the wall and ran her eyes through it, turning a second later with a grin.

“Ayame, we’re working together!”

“Oh, yay…” Ayame replied, too busy going through her bag in search of a stray tube of lip gloss.

“Hmm, lucky,” Lina muttered, an arm stretched over her head and mind already focused on lunch.

“Ok, now where are yo-,” Mai’s finger froze towards the very end of the page, eyes wide and mouth in a dramatic little pout. “Oh no, Lina. You got the beast …”

Lina stopped mid-stretch. “The what?”

She walked up to the list to see her name and her partner’s at the end of the sheet, scribbled in Ochi’s own handwriting under the neatly arranged table, almost as an afterthought:

Takeda Hotaru – Sado Yasutora

It took her a moment to figure out her teacher’s hurried handwriting, but then-

“…Who’s ‘Chado’?”

She ran the name through her mental registry, but nothing came up.

“It’s ‘Sado’ .” A deep voice behind her made her jump.

She spun around to find a wide chest and a uniform button at her eye level. She followed it upwards to find the meanest-looking boy in their grade staring down at her. Her legs suddenly felt cold, but she took a step back all the same.

“Are you Takeda?”

“Um,” she cleared her throat in an attempt to make her voice come out. When it did, it was weaker than she intended. “Y-yes.”

“…I guess we’re working together.”

“Uh…yes,” she repeated, already feeling like a fool.

Lina stared at the one eye not covered by his hair, struggling to find something to say and feeling the back of her neck starting to strain. How was he so tall?

Chad looked down at the wide-eyed girl in front of him, fidgeting and looking like she couldn’t wait to run out of the classroom and as far away from him as possible. It was a look he was too familiar with.

She’s afraid of me.

Lina saw his eye narrow and flinched again, though the lunch bell cut through the tension this time.

Chad’s deep voice rumbled again, “We can talk about it later, then.”

“Oh, um. S-sure-”

He didn’t wait for her to finish talking before he turned back to where his friends were, the sour-faced orange-headed boy, the short guy with black hair and that annoying brunet that never passed up a chance to flirt with Ayame.

Embarrassment settling in, Lina picked up her lunch and hurried out the door with her friends close behind her.

---

Chopsticks holding onto a slice of beef for dear life and mind in a haze, Lina felt a cool spring breeze sweep through the schoolyard and leaned her head against the tree behind her, closing her eyes. She could hear Orihime talking about whatever god-forsaken concoction she had brought for lunch and Tatsuki yelling, probably trying to get Chizuru away from her best friend (again) as they settled down next to Ayame and Mai in the shade.

The conversation centered around the usual lunch-time topics: general gossip, what was on tv last night, what everyone was having for lunch, how they couldn’t wait to go home. Lina tuned out most of it, focusing on the breeze rushing over her skin.

Soon she felt a soft kick on her foot and looked up to see Ayame watching her over her sandwich.

“You ok?”

Lina nodded “Tired.”

Ayame rolled her eyes; like she hadn’t heard that before. They turned their attention to the other girls, whose conversation had turned from gossip to more unimportant things like schoolwork.

“What’d you guys think about that history thing Ochi gave us?” Michiru asked with a mouthful of onigiri.

Ryo stirred the noodles in her bento absentmindedly as she answered. “It’s a little early in the semester to be handing out assignments like this, isn’t it?”

“Thank you!” Ayame agreed before Michiru complained.

“The worksheet she gave us is huge, how are we supposed to finish it all?!”

“I guess that’s the point of working in pairs…” Tatsuki said, “But she could at least let us change partners if we wanted to.”

Mahana giggled. “You just say that cus you got Keigo .”

A few of the girls laughed as Tatsuki groaned. “I’m gonna have to do all the work…”

“Do you have your subjects yet?” Ryo asked. “Michi and I got Nara.”

“We have Jomon!” Chizuru wrapped an arm around Orihime and received a warning glare from Tatsuki. Thinking of the disaster that would be working with(out) Keigo, she sighed. “I got Edo.”

The group hissed in empathy. Poor Tatsuki.

“Mai and I got Heian.” Ayame finished her sandwich and reached for her bag of chips. “That’s gonna be fun…”

“I don’t even know who my partner is…” Mahana said, suddenly startled.

“Of course you don’t. How ‘bout you Lina? Any idea yet?”

Ryo’s voice brought Lina out of her stupor.

“Hmm? Oh, I-I’m not sure yet…”

“Who are you working with, again?” Tatsuki asked.

“Um-”

Mai’s giggles beat her to it. “She got the class thug. Poor you~”

“Mai.” Came Ayame’s warning voice.

Lina took a big bite as she heard her friend’s teasing.

“...Ichigo?” Tatsuki asked, and she could swear she saw Orihime perk up. “I thought he was working with Mizuiro.”

“No, not him, the other guy.” Ayame made a thinking face. “The big, mean-looking guy. Scared Lina out of her mind when he talked to her. What’d he say his name was?”

She turned towards Lina, who mumbled through a full mouth to avoid answering.

“Big & mean-looking…” Tatsuki thought for a second until her face lit up in realization. “…You mean Chad ?”

Lina blinked. “I thought it was ‘Sado’.”

“Oh, it is, but people call him Chad anyway. You’re working with him? You’re lucky, he doesn’t look like it but he’s pretty smart.” Tatsuki ran a hand through her spiky hair. She noticed Lina’s staring and gave her a knowing smile.

“Don’t worry, he only looks intimidating cus he’s huge and no one ever knows what he’s thinking cus he doesn’t talk much. But he’s harmless, I promise.”

“See? Nothing to worry about!” Mai piped up, being hit in the face a second later by Ayame’s balled-up napkin.

“You were the one calling him a beast, idiot.”

“Yeah, but I never said he was bad …”

“Oh, fuck’s sake, Mai-”

Tuning out her friends’ bickering and Orihime’s laughter, Lina considered Tatsuki’s words as she chewed on a scallion. As scary as he looked, he had Tatsuki’s seal of approval, and Lina was more than willing to trust the judgment of the strongest girl in school. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt if he was able to pull his weight for the presentation; Ochi had gotten a little overzealous with the requirements, and she expected they’d have to spend a lot of time in the library pouring over books together.

She sighed and leaned her head back in frustration as she remembered their first interaction. Why had she been so stupid? God knew what he thought of her after seeing her struggle to get more than two words out.

Probably that he’s stuck working with a dimwit for a whole semester, you dumb bit-

Lina groaned. She really could kick herself today.

If anything, she decided as the bell rang again, she should try to actually talk to him as soon as she possibly could.

---

As anyone who knew him was likely to agree, Chad considered himself to be a very tolerant and patient person. That’s not to say he didn’t have his limits, and he was well on his way to reaching at least one of them by the time the after-lunch bell rang. He’d had a terrible night’s sleep, Shigeo had been pestering him about band practice since before he got to school, he had terrorized a classmate he didn’t know by just existing and to top it all off, Keigo had been more insufferable than usual during lunch, even by his standards. He was starting to feel the tension in the back of his neck as they walked back into class, Keigo’s voice booming behind him and Ichigo’s annoyance filling the air ahead.

Finally deciding to tune the noise out, his mind went to the laundry he had to do when he got home and the leaking faucet he’d have to fix as soon as possible. If he went straight home after school, he could probably get it done and still have time to buy groceries before drowning in homework.

As he sat on his desk watching Keigo trying to stuff a fourth mochi into his mouth, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, followed by a small voice.

“Um- Sado?”

He turned to see Takeda smiling nervously at him.

“Uh-hi. I was wondering if you wanted to meet up after class to go over the project t-thing?” she took a shaky breath, “I thought we could go to the library and, uh, have a look at the topics...maybe?”

Chad stared at her with his usual blank expression, surprised and confused. Where did this come from?

Over her shoulder, he saw her friends in a group staring at them, only to go back to intently pretending to read a magazine when they noticed him glance their way.

Tatsuki was among them, and when their eyes met, she gave him an encouraging nod.

Ah...Makes sense.

His eyes went back to the poor, nervous girl in front of him. Her original confidence was gone, as she awkwardly stood with her hands behind her back, not knowing what to make of his silence. After what felt like an eternity to Lina, he gave her a nod and a curt “Sure.”

There go the groceries…

Her nerves deflated in a sigh, and she smiled again, at ease. “Ok, then. See you later.”

Turning back to her seat, Lina heard Keigo’s obnoxious voice nearly shouting.

“Whaaat?! What’s this, Chad?! You got a date?! No way! How did you get a date before me?!”

The noise was quickly cut off by the sound of a punch and the voice of one of his friends telling him to knock it off, but Lina could feel her face heat up anyway. She convinced herself it was just her nerves, only to have her friends smirk and wiggle their eyebrows at her as she took her seat.

“Shut up…”

Tatsuki passed her on her way to her desk, giving her the same knowing smile she had received during lunch, and Lina felt some of the tension ease off her shoulders. If only her embarrassment went away as quickly...

Afternoon classes went by in a blur, and the classroom began to empty almost as soon as the last bell rang.

Gathering his things, Chad snuck a glance towards Takeda’s desk. He could barely make her out over the wall of her friends surrounding her like guards. Why were girls always in packs?

“…have to help out at the clinic. You comin’, Chad?” Ichigo’s voice snapped him out of his musings.

“…No. I have to-”

“That’s right! I forgot Chad’s got a dat-- OW !” Keigo was swiftly silenced by a hit in the back of the head with Ichigo’s bag.

“…Oh, yeah. ’K, then. See you later…” Ichigo said, steering a complaining Keigo towards the door. His eyes glanced towards the back of the room before he turned to give Chad a look over his shoulder. “…And good luck.”

“Hmm…”

Books secured in his bag, Chad turned to the back of the classroom to find Takeda alone, waiting by the door. She gave him a polite smile as he approached.

“…Should we go?”

She gave him a stiff nod and led the way to the library, where they chose the table closest to the window. Lina set her textbook on the table, wincing as the noise rippled through the mostly empty room.

“So, Sado, right?” she asked, feeling instantly stupid, “O-or do you prefer ‘Chad’? I heard your friends call you that, so…”

“Chad’s fine,” he saw her nod as she flipped through the text, looking for a particular chapter. “…And you?”

He seemed to catch her off guard as she flattened the pages of the book.

“Um- T-takeda or Hotaru are fi-” she paused for a moment, seeming to consider something before she turned to him again. “Lina.”

“ ‘Lina’ ?”

She nodded and he returned the gesture in understanding.

“So. Um-” Lina flattened the book again, just to give herself something to do. “We got ‘Modern Japan’, and I think we can choose either Meiji or Taisho… No one wants Meiji cause it has a bunch of important dates and it’s a lot of information…” she flipped through their textbook and held together all the pages in the ‘Meiji’ section, a good fifteen or more. The next section barely took up five or six pages.

“Taisho’s super short, but if we go into WWI we might have a lot more to work with…”

She looked up to find Chad staring at her more intently than she expected. At least this time she managed to contain her surprise.

“What do you think?”

Chad broke eye contact to go over the pages she had marked, giving Lina a chance to look at him closely. He really wasn’t as intimidating up close as she had originally thought. His expression as he flipped through the textbook was calm, almost bored, and it made her feel like a fool for being afraid of him in the first place.

Chad considered their options for only a few seconds before he hummed.

“…Either’s fine,” his visible eye found Lina’s again, “You choose.”

“Oh. Well…” her eyes dropped back to the book, flustered, “Taisho seems more manageable…and I think it’s more interesting. There’s a lot we can talk about in terms of cultural changes and things like that…” She gave him a sideways glance and he hummed again.

“…Sounds good.”

Lina smiled. “Taisho it is!”

She rummaged through her bag to find the project worksheet; the due date was far enough ahead that if they divided the workload now, they would be able to work steadily on it throughout the semester and not drown in assignments during finals. She turned to pass him the sheet and found him leaning over the book again, apparently taking in information this time.

“Here.”

“…Thanks.”

As he leaned back in his seat to read, a flash of gold from his neck caught Lina’s eye – a thin chain with a little medallion. She spoke before she had time to think about it.

“I didn’t notice your necklace before. It’s nice.”

Chad blinked. “…Thanks.”

Lina decided to press on for small talk’s sake. “…Does it mean anything?”

Chad brought a hand to his neck to hold the small disc between his fingers. “…Yeah.”

He turned to see Lina looking at him expectantly, only to go back to her notebook awkwardly when it seemed clear he was done with the conversation.

He considered for a second. This was the calmest she’d looked since the first time they talked. Whether she was genuinely interested or just being polite, at least she was trying…Maybe he should put some effort too.

“…It was a gift,” he offered. “It’s from Mexico.”

“Mexico?” Lina turned with interest. “Have you ever been there?”

He nodded. “Half of my family’s from there…I lived there as a child.”

“You lived there…?” Lina trailed off, probably trying to imagine what his life had been like outside Japan, as many who learned about his past tended to do.

Deciding that was enough of a reply, Chad went back to the textbook, though he could physically feel Lina readying for another question.

“Pues…m-me imagino que hablarás español, ¿verdad?”

Chad’s head turned towards her fast – fast enough to strain his neck and make him wince. The surprise on his face made Lina’s smile grow into a giggle.

“How-?”

“Mi abuela es peruana y mi madre es profesora de español en la universidad…” she smiled again at his still-bewildered face. “Me enseñó de pequeña, pero no tengo con quién practicar… so I don’t usually bring it up.”

She suddenly seemed self-conscious, though Chad thought she had no reason to be. The pronunciation was great, her voice was smooth, and she had an accent he had never heard before, melodic and very pleasant. He wished he could hear her speak more.

“…Lo hablas muy bien." Lina beamed at him again with a small “ ¡gracias!” and he found himself returning a little smile. “Si quieres podemos practicar…”

She clapped her hands and leaned over the books once again. “Por mí, encantada. A ver… ¿qué parte del trabajo quieres hacer?”

They were in the library for well over an hour, of which a grand total of fifteen minutes (if not less) went to splitting up the workload for the project. The rest was dedicated to anecdotes from Chad’s childhood in Mexico, Lina’s first (and only) trip to Peru two years before and how she was dying to go back, some issues she had had with Spanish grammar, her mother’s weird teaching methods, words and phrases that differed between Mexico and Peru and do you know why or where they come from, the children’s books and cartoons in Spanish that they had both read and seen when they were younger, including Lina’s obsession with the traveling journalist she liked so much she had taken her alias as a nickname, things she knew about different countries in Latin America, did she pronounce that word right (she did) and was she speaking too fast (she wasn’t).

Lina carried most of the conversation, which Chad didn’t mind at all. It was such a stark contrast to their first interaction just hours earlier that he couldn’t help but be amused. And he wouldn’t deny he was enjoying himself, too; it had been years since he’d been able to have a conversation in Spanish, and maybe just as long since anyone had shown so much genuine interest in that part of his life. She had gone from barely wanting to talk to him to drilling him with questions and eagerly waiting for his answers, and he decided he liked this version of hers much better than the one he had first encountered.

And the smile she gave him as they talked – he decided he liked that smile too.

The sun was low and painting the sky orange and pink when a frazzled librarian, surprised to still see students in school at that hour, shooed them out.

“Oh, before I forget-” Lina passed him a sheet of paper and pen as she was packing up her bag. “Here, give me your number. I-in case we need to talk about the project or…anything…” she added quickly in response to Chad’s staring, feeling her cheeks heat up.

He hummed and leaned down to scribble some numbers on the page while she bounced on the balls of her feet. He handed it back with a tiny smile that mirrored her own; he was starting to find them very contagious.

“Thanks!” Lina folded the page and stuffed it into her pocket as the librarian’s patience ran out and she chased them out of the building. “I have to get home for dinner, but I’ll send you a text when I do.”

Chad nodded as she hurried to the school gates, where she turned to him again, still smiling.

“This was a fun study session!” she looked up to see Chad smiling softly at her and her nerves jumped again, this time in a not-terrible way.

“I’ll, um, see you tomorrow…?”

He nodded and she turned towards her way home, waving goodbye. “Ok… ¡Te veo!”

“Te veo.”

She saw him lift his hand in an approximation to a wave and turned to run home, feeling light and full of an energy she couldn’t explain.

Chad waited until she was out of sight and turned in the opposite direction towards his apartment. Determined to get something done, he managed to at least buy some bread and a bento on the way home.

It was already dark as he sauntered into his apartment, suddenly exhausted. Deciding that everything else would just have to wait till tomorrow, he settled down with his meal and flipped through several tv channels for something to watch. Taking a bite of his beef omurice, he heard his phone vibrate and light up with a new message from an unknown number.

It was a simple “Hola! Es Lina! 😊”

He found himself smiling at the little emoticon – even through text her smile was contagious – and replied with a waving hand and a thumbs-up. Smile still on his face, he took another bite of his food, eyes staring past the tv and stomach feeling light despite being halfway through the dish.

---

Translations:

Pues…m-me imagino que hablarás español, ¿verdad? - So...I imagine you speak Spanish, right? Mi abuela es peruana y mi madre es profesora de español en la universidad - My grandmother is Peruvian and my mother is a Spanish professor at the university Me enseñó de pequeña, pero no tengo con quién practicar - She taught me as a child, but I don't have anyone to practice with Lo hablas muy bien - You speak it very well Si quieres podemos practicar - If you want we can practice Por mí, encantada. A ver… ¿qué parte del trabajo quieres hacer? - Fine by me ((but...more enthusiastic lol)). Let's see...what part of the work ((project)) do you want to do? Te veo - I'll see you ((lit. "I see you")) Hola! Es Lina! - Hi! It's Lina!

#bleach #bleach anime #bleach manga #bleach chad #sado yasutora #bleach oc #oc: lina #ship: yasutaru #my writing #this is 90% exposition the next one will be shorter i hope🤞🏼#god i love chad so much y'all don't understand

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #383

“the big bully try to stick his finger in my chest / try to tell me, tell me he’s the best / i don’t really give a good goddamn ‘cuz i got my lunchbox & i’m armed real well”

Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Well yeah. Most of my friends are online, and while I've seen pictures of most at least once or twice, some I still haven't. The last time you threw up, what caused it? It was a side effect of a mood stabilizer I started. Any foods from other countries you would like to try but haven’t yet? I'm sure there's something, idk. Do you think the world would be more peaceful without any religion? Yes. Have you ever had a stalker? No. Does it hurt your feelings when people talk shit about things you love? It makes me self-conscious way more than anything. I start to obsess over whether or not the person things poorly or weirdly of me for liking what I like. I just feel judged for liking it, but that's my problem. Do you like it when people give you nicknames? I do, actually. It feels kinda affectionate to me. Do you often find yourself checking out people’s butts? Haha I'm not gonna say it's never happened, but it's not something I make a habit out of for sure. What fandoms are you in? MEERKAT MANOR IS BACK BAYBEEEE, Markiplier, Silent Hill, Shadow of the Colossus, World of Warcraft, Spyro, Wings of Fire, and lots more, honestly. I'm into a lot of stuff, and I don't love in moderation, haha. Are there any fandoms you used to be in, but left? Yeah, like Supernatural, Good Mythical Morning, or Warriors, but it wasn't out of "I don't like it anymore" or anything, I just drifted away. Anything the fans in your fandoms do that pisses you off? World of Warcraft if particular has one of the most toxic fucking fanbases. There are so many goddamn elitists and people who whine about "boohoo WoW is dying" and "omg this game has been trash since Wrath" and yada yada yada and it's annoying as hell. They always find some shit to complain about. Then Silent Hill... ugh. I think people just hop onto the "the series sux after 1-4" bandwagon to fit in with a certain crowd, but that's not the main thing that annoys me; rather, it's the fact the former main admin of the SH wiki made a fucking joke out of us there. He was clearly having personal issues and made a HUGE and utterly ridiculous deal of Silent Hill 4 having heavy symbolism to the main character being obsessed with the bullshit idea of him being circumcised, and it led to a maaaassive thread of us members trying to talk some damn sense into him as he abused his power. He was finally banned by the Wikia staff, but not in time for some gaming websites to publish "news" stories about it because it was just that ludicrous. Now, YEARS later, we still get trolls coming onto the site to try and revive the drama by inserting absolute rubbish into pages or making new ones. Nowadays I'm the main administrator there, and it's fucking embarrassing sometimes. I'm supposed to keep the wiki under control and respected, you know? Ugh, I'll stop. I could rant for a very long time about this. Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? Ruffly. Do you write down your own recipes, or just commit them to memory? I don’t cook. What color do you want to dye your hair? My top three are pastel pink, lilac, and a light creamsicle orange. I REALLY want to dye it SOMETHING. :( How do you like your chicken? Of course breaded (like nuggets, tenders) is my favorite, but I also enjoy is broiled and seasoned well. There's other ways, but because I don't cook, I, uh... don't know how a lot are made lmao. Do you enjoy cheese fries? UUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH YES. Do you eat refried beans? I absolutely hate beans, so no. What is a food you enjoy, but don’t have very often? A whole lot because a lot of it is from restaurants and we don't eat out all that much. As well, my diet is very narrow just because of how picky I am. Marilyn Monroe or Audrey Hepburn? Why? I mean, what are we comparing them for? I think Audrey is fucking gorgeous, though. Marilyn is also beautiful. Favorite fictional world? Uh, I dunno. Do you use lint rollers often? No. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want to. Has your power ever gone out for more than a day? I think so. Other than a dislike button, what’s something you wish Facebook had? Hm, I dunno. What time do your parents normally get home from work? Mom can't work right now, but I think Dad gets off around 5PM. Are you afraid to ask people out on dates? Yep. Do you think it’s better to look for love or let it find you? Both can work, but I definitely prefer to let it find me. I feel that *in general* that usually has better results. Have you ever found yourself worrying about commitment? No. I'm a very committed person romantically. Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? No. Have you ever had a rash from poison ivy? I don't believe so, no. Do you have any chairs in your bedroom? No. Did you watch Elmo as a child? Some, yeah. Do you know anyone who doesn’t eat meat? I don't think so, off the top of my head. When you throw up, do you cry? No, but I'm a whiner and will also shake from fear because I have such a phobia of vomiting. Doing it totally turns me into a baby. Who was the last person to carry you? I couldn't tell you the last person to full-on carry me, but back when I tore a ligament in my foot, my mom kinda had me lifted when she would help me walk. Is it easy for you to accept loss? Absolutely not. I handle it very, very poorly. Have you done anything sneaky lately? No. Have you ever had a rolling back pack? Yes. Who knows you better than anyone else? My mom, probably. Would you ever want to go to Brazil? Sure, if the opportunity came up. Are there any medical conditions that run in your family? A lot, mostly heart problems. What band has the best guitar solos? Metallica imo. Who is the biggest jerk you've ever met? She was somehow my former best friend. Have you ever swerved off the road to avoid hitting an animal? I've never been in that situation, thankfully. What's a charity you would never donate to? I'm really not familiar enough with charities and their practices to know which ones are sketch or not. Have you ever grown your own herbs? No. Do you have any exes you'd consider dating again? Yes. What were some of your favorite classes you took in high school? Art and German. Mythology was fun, too. Do you know anyone with a profession in law? Yeah, I have a cousin that's a lawyer. Have you ever Googled yourself? Yeah, outta curiosity. What's the shortest amount of time you've had between relationships? Like, two days. Part of the reason I left Girt was because I liked Sara. As a child, what comfort foods did your parents make for you when you were sick with a cold or flu? Chicken noodle soup. What's a movie series where the sequel was better than the original? Ha, for some reason Inspector Gadget came to mind. I guess from mentioning my childhood. I was FUCKING OBSESSED with that movie as a kid. The first one's fine, but I love the second one. Does your car have heated seats? Mom's doesn't. What is the strangest pizza topping you've ever eaten? Nothing strange, really. Describe your hometown. What’s it like there? Small and dangerous. Lots of run-down areas. A gang nearly broke into our house once, if that helps you get the picture. What was the last video game you beat? I replayed Silent Hill 2 forever ago. What did you learn from your last failed relationship? It really just taught me that you need to take care of your own mental health before you can effectively handle another's properly and strike a healthy balance. What country does your favorite band hail from? Britain. What’s something on your to-do list that never actually gets done? Finish decorating my room. -_- Have you ever been really passionate about something but then lost interest? If so, what was it? Good Mythical Morning, I suppose. I used to be OB-SESSED. I still adore Rhett and Link as people, they are fucking wonderful human beings and excellent entertainers, I just drifted away from their content. I don't really know why. Do you sleep with the TV or the radio on? No. What’s the worst thing about being male/female (whichever you are)? Menstrual cycles, I'd say. It affects your mood so much, and as someone who's bipolar, it can be very confusing. I like to know why I'm feeling a certain way. What movie has the best special effects? /shrug How many work hours per week is too much for you? I wouldn't know, I've never really worked long enough to figure this out. Can you remember your first day of school? I think I have the faintest memory of it. I know I was very scared to leave my mom (I had absolutely awful separation anxiety from her) and I MIGHT have cried, but I don't really recall with certainty. Have you ever entered a modelling competition? Would you? No thanks. Did you keep any drawings/stories from when you were younger? Most, no, because the level of cringe is LITERALLY unbearable for me. Do you have a safe? Mom does somewhere. What’s the scariest thing to happen to you so far? The breakup. That night was just fucking terrifying. I was so certain my life was over, like the situation was so, so impossible in my head. What was your last dream about? (or your daydream if you don’t remember) My memory's faint, but I just remember I had a nightmare where a LOT of my bones were totally snapped in half. When was the last time you saw a relative? Excluding my immediate family, I last saw my now-departed grandmother and my uncle a while back at a hotel as they were passing through. Have you ever been in a TV audience? No. Are you in any way close to reaching a personal goal? Not really... Do you prefer crosswords or word searches? Word searches. Do you like making collages? Not really. Do you remember any inside jokes from childhood? No. What would you love to learn to do? Digital art, like drawing on a tablet. Do you prefer monkeys or lemurs? Lemurs. Do you watch movies based on the actors or the movie plot? The plot, 100%. Are you more shy in real life or on the internet? I am WAY more shy irl.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''lunchbox'' by marilyn manson

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darkhymns-fic · 4 years ago

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On Slumbering Hills

Colette sometimes dreams of her death.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: A lot of this was inspired by a piece of fanart that's sadly not up anymore; it was a monochrome drawing of Colette with her eyes closed and being held close by Lloyd, his face just hidden out of view. What I loved about it was how it focused on Colette and that in a world of darkness all around, only Lloyd was with her.

Colette sometimes dreams of her death.

It’s been fed to her since she was only ten, all in easy terms, all in the most unfrightening ways that the priests, her grandmother, and her father could ever do. It will be just like sleeping, they had told her. You will close your eyes and give yourself to the goddess, and it will be a wonderful dream for everyone.

Colette would always have trouble getting to sleep. Hours would pass, the air so quiet and thick around her, as the house floors would creak from nothing. It made her shake sometimes, feeling sleep try to take her, while always a part of her wanted to refuse.

So when she finally does, when she can’t fight the feeling anymore, she would dream of the dark, and usually nothing else. Sometimes, there would be long, arching shadows, and of night skies that spilled out only black, the stars long gone away. But most of the time, it was a nothingness that stretched out long before her.

She knew this is what her death will be like.

Every night, she would go to bed, shut her eyes, and wait for the cold hands to hold her close. It would be slow, all-encompassing, but inevitable. She would fall into the ocean of black and slowly drown, for the good of the world. These were not nightmares. These were just visions of what it would be like for her. For a Chosen, there was nothing more important than her sacrifice.

She would wake up, feeling more tired than she ever had.

Her sleep was never comfortable, never inviting, but cold and deep. It was for the good of the world.

As she grew older, she heard about the other children having sleep-overs with their friends, and it had sounded so nice to her. She had asked, and asked, and asked. But her grandmother had refused, even though she had looked so sad doing so. The Chosen needed to be safe in her room, sequestered at night within the village. Until her journey. Only then could she see the world, dream her final dream for everyone to share.

She couldn’t risk losing that dream, could she?

So once, when she and Lloyd had decided to nap on the grassy hillside, she felt it was something she couldn’t tell her grandmother, even though the guilt was something she could not understand.

“This is my favorite spot here!” he had announced so proudly, gesturing to a part of the slope where the stalks bent slightly, where the flowers gathered nearby, the golden petals reflecting the sunlight. Already at 12, he was proud of his wooden swords, sharpened to a blunt point. But they hung off his waist loosely from belts that were still a few sizes too big. “The sun feels warm but it doesn’t get in your eyes as much.”

Colette had only stumbled a few times when she came with him, the evidence of grass stains on her white dress. She watched as Lloyd fell against the grass, arms outstretched and smile so wide that she wondered if it hurt his cheeks to do so. But he only looked up at her, still smiling, and waving one arm near him.

“I’m not allowed to sleep outside,” she said in a whisper. I’m not allowed to sleep anywhere except at home. That and going to sleep was always a struggle, because she’d fall asleep and wonder if she would ever leave the hole of darkness she fell into.

“You don’t have to sleep! Laying down isn’t sleeping.” Though she could already see Lloyd’s eyes growing heavy, the sunlight, even at its angle through the branches of a large oak that stood atop of the hill, falling across his face.

“Oh! I guess you’re right.” So, with more ease, then she meant to, Colette went to Lloyd’s side, stumbling one last time before the soft earth caught her. Her hands pressed against warm soil and crisp grass, watching again how the light bounced across Lloyd’s hair.

“Like this?” she asked, mimicking his pose on the ground, arms stretched out, head raised to the clear sky overhead. It was just before noon, the sun only touching her face gently, across her cheek, at the edge of her mouth.

“Yeah! Told you this was a good spot.” His confidence was unbreakable, and once again Colette turned to see him, his eyelids half-lowered, but his smile still there.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep.

The grass beneath them was soft, the sun moving up so high that she had to shut her eyes tight so the light wouldn’t bleed through. The light did get in the eyes, but only now, only when they stayed past their time. Perhaps they had even just missed their class.

Yet she felt his warmth. His closeness. His touch. She felt his breath on her neck as she dreamed.

Once, she roused herself awake, and found Lloyd curled up on his side, hands close to her back, his mouth half-open in a snore. And she only saw him this way because she was close too, her own hands curled just near his own. It felt so much better to be close, so much safer to be close, and she drifted off to sleep again without the worries of nightfall.

Colette was not supposed to be a greedy person, not at all. The Chosen was selfless, thinking of others over her own well-being. But she was greedy to spend their afternoon together, asleep beneath the warm sun, over the earth of the world that she would one day save.

Colette would still try to sleep, feeling cold but remembering the warmth of the sun of that day. Her grandmother had clicked her tongue at her dirty dress, chastising her for playing in such a rough state, and Colette only nodded, obedient in not saying a thing. She didn’t want to reveal her secret.

Maybe to sleep doesn’t mean to die.

Ever since, she had tried to recapture that moment. She would sleep out in the backyard, eyes shut tight against the sun, hands clutching the grass. She would smell the potted flowers on the windowsills, the clean laundry that hung on the clothesline nearby. Yet still, she would wake up cold.

But Lloyd’s smile, whenever she went to school, whenever she would greet him at the town’s entrance as he rode on Noishe, would always leave her warm instead.

Maybe, she just couldn’t sleep alone.

It was at fourteen years old that she dared to sneak away and travel to Lloyd’s house, late at night, when the air was coldest and the sounds so deep within her ears. Even through winding trails, even through a thicket of trees that leaned so close to the ground to block her path, she had gone, never so awake before.

Lloyd had been surprised then to find her at his door. “Colette? What are you doing here?”

His dad, the gentle dwarf with the heavy beard and a smile so much like Lloyd’s own, had long gone to bed. But Lloyd had been awake, and how she had known he would be, even Colette wasn’t sure. He wore only a light shirt and pants, his hair disheveled, inviting hands to fix any stray locks that were out of place. She kept herself back, instead giving him a smile. “Um. I wanted to see you!” A pause. “And I.. I, um..”

Although, Lloyd hadn’t looked that awake himself, yawning a little and scratching at his shoulder. “Am I just.. dreaming?” A shiver, a brief gust of wind from outside. It tugged at her hair, made the trees rustle like soft murmuring. “Nah, it’s too cold.” He blinked. “Is everything okay?”

She looked down at the floor. The words left her before she could think. “Do you…ever have trouble sleeping?” And if he was here, having heard her knocks despite how faint they were….

“Huh? Kinda, yeah…” Lloyd yawned again, rubbing at his eyes. “I was going to try to eat something… but.. why travel all this way?” Then he seemed to wake up more. “Wait. You traveled through the forest? From Iselia? It’s dangerous to go around at night!”

Colette looked away even more. “But I’m okay! I’ve.. I’ve trained a lot, too.” A pause, a locking in her heart. “Just… it’s hard to sleep.”

It is always so hard to sleep.

There was worry on his face, but then he shook his head, and quickly brought her through the door. “Sorry, not thinking too good… you’ll get too cold out there.”

The house was quiet, but it was different from the quiet in her room. Not as deep, and the warmth from the metalsmithing forge in the corner still made the air so heated, now that the door was closed behind her. “You’re not sending me back?”

“No way! It’s the middle of the night…” Lloyd was slowly waking up, his worry rising more and more to the surface. It scared her sometimes, that worry of his, like she was doing something wrong. Usually she was, but his hand reached out for hers, holding on firmly. So easy he did that with her, like so much else. And that was what brought her here – that easy way of his that broke through shields.

“Did you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Colette kept her smile, knowing how useless it was. Here she was, on his doorstep late at night, and she acted like she had just found him at entrance to Iselia again. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

His hand on hers squeezed just a little tighter. “But…why come all the way out here because of that?”

How could she explain it? That soft darkness that always reached for her? That ever since the pastors told her of what would happen, that it had been harder to sleep? Harder to eat? That she thought she could hear every whisper from all in Iselia, their praises for the Chosen and the grave she would leave behind?

How had this feeling not faded, even years later?

“I don’t feel comfortable… I- I guess.” She could only say it quietly, as if worried the angels would hear, would judge her unworthy, and punish her by leaving their world to ruin. “And, I didn’t know where else to go.”

She expected Lloyd to keep pushing through. Sometimes he did that, with so many things he didn’t fully understand. The guilt was already rising in her again before she felt another squeeze on her hand.

“Colette, it’s okay.” And there it was, that smile that felt so warm, that lit up the shadows of her dreams. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you here this late… but, you’re always welcome here!” Lloyd turned his head upwards, and she followed his gaze to the stairs that led to the second floor. “I think I have some extra pillows somewhere…”

She was speechless at first. “So, I can sleep here?”

Lloyd looked back at her, so bewildered. He laughed slightly. “Well, yeah! You can stay in my room. Kinda like a sleepover!” He yawned once more, the sound so loud it made her laugh a little in return. “Hey..” he said afterwards, though his smile stayed on. “But, as long as that’s okay with you. You can take the bed if you want.”

“Oh! But what about you?” she asked as he quickly led her up the stairs. The wood creaked underneath both their weight, the vines that streaked across the walls so clear to her even in the shadows that cloaked the house’s interior. She shyly reached out to brush her fingers along patterns of leaves, careful not to upturn or bend them in any way. The walls of her own home were bare, so intent on keeping the world firmly out.

“I can just sleep on the floor,” Lloyd said, and his voice was like something from a dream, especially within the dark. Except. The dark wasn’t cold or frightening. Because Lloyd was here and holding her hand, his voice calling out to her to keep her steady. She focused on that as they made their way to his room, on his form that guided her through the dark patches in her vision.

The floor creaked here too. The sound was like the boughs near her house, weighed down with the leaves, and the wind that blew relentlessly throughout the night. She saw the bed, the covers askew from his sleep, and wondered at her own intrusion.

His grip on her hand tightened once more, catching her attention. “Colette?” he asked. That worry again, hidden beneath the sleepiness in his voice. She wondered if that will ever leave him, once she is gone. She realized she hadn’t said anything for a while.

“Is it really okay?” she asked, and maybe a slip of something desperate snuck into her voice. She hadn’t meant to. But she was worried about what she will dream.

“Of course! I don’t mind you taking it. I can sleep anywhere, remember?” He grinned down at her, and sure enough, she couldn’t forget his occasional snores in the classroom, head on his desk, or simply even standing. It made her giggle, and he heard his chuckle skip along with hers.

She couldn’t forget him sleeping on the hillside next to her, his breath near her neck as they both laid in the sun.

“It must be really nice, to sleep like that.” She looked down, her eyes on the soft etchings on the floor, from Lloyd’s shoes, from Noishe’s claw marks as he must have scuttled into the room during stormy nights. “How come tonight you couldn’t?”

Maybe a note in confusion in his voice, still half-asleep. He had not let go of her hand yet. “I think I just had a weird dream.”

Is it the same as my own? she wanted to ask, but she was not sure he would understand.

The room was warm, yet the trees outside continued to shiver in the wind. Colette closed her eyes, while Lloyd stood beside her, waiting for her to take his offer. The bed is there, smaller than her own, and she found herself wanting to climb inside it and to be drifted away into his scent.

“Did you…want to sleep?” he finally asked, again the confusion. There was still an answer he was waiting for. But did she have an answer to give?

“Not by myself,” she said suddenly. She kept their hands locked, hoping he wouldn’t break the grip. “If that’s okay.”

By herself, she fell too easily into nothing. A wonderful dream for everyone, but what of herself?

It took a long time for Lloyd to say anything.

Colette replayed her own words in her head, ashamed at their childish nature. But then Lloyd brought her forward, interlocking their fingers. He sat on the bed with her, the sound of the rustling trees just outside his balcony.

He could see through her, even in his half-sleepy state. But she couldn’t explain this to him. This was the one barrier she could not let him move through. There are days when she is on the verge of tears, but she smiles as much as she can. Those are the days that Lloyd would pull her aside, and let her sob softly against his arm, even when he didn’t fully understand.

Colette had already given him too many hints as to what she would eventually become. Still, would he understand? She was afraid of that, more than she realized. She laid her head against his arm, hearing the even pace of his breathing. His heartbeat would have the same rhythm, if she was allowed to listen.

“I can’t sleep by myself,” she said again. She did not know if that was true. She had always slept by herself, but every night brought her shadows curling around her, made her see shapes in the walls and wonder if she will always be this scared when her time finally comes.

Lloyd didn’t speak anymore. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, hesitant at first, but brought her to him closer. His warmth was already enough to make her eyes heavy, to make her breathe slower. “Okay,” he said, voice low. Maybe he still thought he was in a dream of his own. “I’ll stay with you.” The bed creaked, the shadows closed in, but it was only the darkness of his shirt as she curled against his chest.

When you give yourself, it will be just like sleeping, they had said. So Colette closed her eyes, and went to sleep, and hoped that when she finally went to her fate, it would be just like this.

And maybe, wrapped in his arms, all safe and warm, she’d be lucky enough to not wake up.

#tales of symphonia #colloyd #lloyd irving #colette brunel #oneshot

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