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gojology · 4 years ago

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Jealousy. (3/3)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS AND I RLLY LOVED HOW THE ENDING WENT BUT IF U WANT ME TO WRITE A LITTLE EXTRA OF WHAT HAPPENS AFTERWARDS JUST SPAM MY INBOX K THX ENJOY!!!! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Teen! Gojo x Gender Neutral Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2286 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Cursing. ALL CHARACTERS HERE ARE AGED DOWN FROM PRESENT ANIME/MANGA INTO WHEN THEY WERE TEENAGERS. 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Your plan with Geto finally unfolds, and Geto thinks with the information he has gathered, that it’s a perfect time for you to confess to Gojo. Shoko answers your suspicions about her and Gojo before Geto crashes the scene, telling you last second that he had set you up with Gojo for a confession, you had almost no time to prepare. Before you could even hold a proper scolding, Gojo arrives, it’s time to confess. “Okay, here’s the plan.” Geto slapped his hand onto the table, handing you a fizzy drink. You watched the bubbles rapidly float upwards. Inside, there’s various fruits, strawberries, kiwis, some lemons for added fanciness. “(Y/N), the drink is not what we’re focusing on.” he snaps his fingers, you glance up, he’s shaking his head and smiling. “Sorry, uh, I’m not good with serious conversations.” you twiddle with your thumbs, studying the table. Your fingers itch for your something to fidget with, the whole reason why you two met up was awkward anyways. You had conspired with Geto to make Gojo jealous. Having already tried being subtle, you had eyed him across the room, flirted with him, and he still hadn’t realized. You had bought him free stuff whenever you went to the store, and once again, he never really realized. Geto did, though. He always raised his eyebrows when you handed Gojo a bag of kikufuku from his favorite shop, or if you got him a stupid cheap trinket from the night markets. The point being, you were much more affection with Gojo then anyone else. Even when you tried to conceal this jealousy, the cracking point was when you had found out that Gojo had gone out with Geto the night before and had sex with a few random girls. You had chewed Geto and Gojo both out, while Gojo was yawning and tousling his hair, boredom evident in his face, Geto examined every single little thing about your body language. How your face seemed to drop a little more when you talked about Gojo, and how you seemed so self conscious when you talked about the girls that he had had fun with. He had approached you, with no time for small talk. His arms crossed, he blew a strand of hair away from his face, looking at you. He had oh so casually asked you if you had a thing for Satoru, and here you were now. Just short of having a heart attack from sheer panic. “Hey. Don’t be scared.” placing one of his hands on your shoulder, he smiles. “I know Gojo, did I ever tell you how we compared dick sizes once? Wild, I’ve also had a few foursomes-” You retch, and Geto snickers. “Moving on, that guy gets jealous EASILY. He’s also as dumb as a rock, probably can’t define the word love.” he looks down, the easygoing expression on his face wiped off, replaced with a rather saddened one, “but I guess he hasn’t experienced the feeling a lot.” He looks back up at you, brushing his bangs behind his ear. “This brings me to Operation: Make Gojo Jealous Because That’s The Only Way I Know How To Get Him To Realize If He Likes You or Not!” He leans over the table, looking left and right before leaning into your ear. “What do we say if Gojo doesn’t like you back?” Your stomach twists as the words, “Gojo doesn’t like you back.” echoed in your mind, you sigh. “That’s okay Gojo, and whatever your opinion is, I will respect.” “Perfect, if you have any objections, tell me now.” A deafening silence settles between you two, he chuckles again. “Also, Shoko’s smart as shit. She can probably catch on, or maybe she already knows that you have a crush on him. Maybe she’ll play into this, fair warning. Alright, ready? Listen close.” He stops leaning over the table, sitting back down normally. “We start spending a lot more time with each other, as in, we spend more than half of our day with one another.” you open your mouth to complain, as Geto would be sure to annoy you knowing that you had to spend half the fucking day with you, but he shushes you up with his finger. “I’m a good stalker, so I’ll be watching Gojo. If he doesn’t have a crush on you, he’ll be just fine. Albeit, just a bit lonelier, because his best bud is ditching him for you, maybe talk to Shoko or some shit. If he DOES in fact have a crush on you, he’ll watch our every move. He doesn’t hide his anger very well, so I’ll be able to tell.” “You’re a good WHAT?” “Shut up, and I have everything planned out. We’ll probably have a celebration at this park after we get back from wiping out all the curses from this village, and by then I’ll have enough information to see if that’s a good day to confess to him. Understand?” You nod, shocked that he had literally planned this all out. He gets up, nodding at you and waving, giving you a playful wink before leaving the room. — Here you were now, sitting on the picnic blanket. Shoko digs her hand into her pocket, pulling out a few cigarettes.�� You eye them as she whips out a lighter, delicately placing the cigarette into her mouth and lighting it. Taking in a deep breath, you watch her exhale, a hazy cloud of gray swirled around into the air. You never took Shoko as a person to smoke, but your gut wrenches. Does Gojo like smokers? He seemed interested in Shoko, and maybe Shoko was trying to confess with him before you and Geto had crashed the party. Nervously shoving the marble in your ramune down, you stutter, Shoko glanced up. Her lukewarm eyes stared into yours. “Have a question, honey?” her cigarette between her pointer and index, she coughs before placing it back into her mouth. “Uh, yeah. A-actually.” A pleasantly surprised face covered her calm expression, looking at you with curiosity, she nods, telling you to continue. “...Do you have a crush on Gojo?” She looks at you, bewildered, before pulling the cigarette out of her mouth. Chortling turning into coughing, she spits into the grass. “Oh NO honey, I can’t even picture dating a guy, actually, especially not that monkey. What made you think that?” Waves of relief rushed over your body, and you realize how stiffly you were sitting up. Relaxing your shoulders, you take a swig out of your ramune. “Uh, I-I don’t know. I saw you two u-uh... Really close...” Shoko smiles, her eyes crinkle at the side as she did. Scoffing a little, she places the cigarette back between her lips, taking a deep inhale before exhaling. “We were talking about shit, no bother, oh hey, Geto’s back.” You stare at where she’s pointing, Geto’s hands were shoved deep into his pockets. He had a toothy grin on his face, and strands of hair strayed from his bun as the wind whipped against him. “(Y/N)! I have news~!” he screams, approaching the picnic with long strides. Your heart jumps out of your chest, did he talk for you instead, and got Gojo to confess? “I set you and Gojo up!” he sang, sitting down with a heavy thud and digging his hand into the picnic basket, sticking his tongue out as he searched for snacks. He looks at you sadistically, thoroughly enjoying the shocked expression on your face. “WHAT?” Shoko snickers a little, before changing it into a cough as you glare at her. “Yep, he’s coming back now, so you better prepare!” yanking out a snack, he peers down. “Fuck yeah! Dried squid!” “ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING IGNORE HOW YOU JUST SET UP MY CONFESSION WITH GOJO SO CASUALLY?” He looks up at you, sharing a look with Shoko before both burst into laughter. “(Y/N) being angry is a fucking knee slapper, isn’t it Shoko?” ‘Who the fuck uses the phrase knee slapper, Geto?” Ignoring Shoko’s sarcastic comment, Geto stared up at your figure. “Anyways, go for it sweetheart.” Geto calmly responds, Shoko still laughing. You splutter, cursing Geto under your breath and everyone under his family tree for raising such a child. “Aw hey now (Y/N), no cursing me! I know you’re doing it, and hey look, here he comes! Shoo lovebirds!” he waves his hand. Shoko, in an attempt to calm down, pulled her knee into her chest and giggled into her arms. You match your line of sight with his, Gojo’s lanky build was quickly approaching. Instead of his usually scowling face, he seemed more relaxed. “Yo.” he scratched the back of his neck as he walked up to the group, studying the grass. “Sorry for blowing up.” Geto stood up, patting Gojo’s back. “There there, truthfully no one gives a fuck! Actually, I don’t know if you remember but (Y/N) over here requested your audience, bye bye now!” shoving Gojo in your direction, he stumbled a little, before scrambling and placing his hands on your shoulder. ‘Sorry.” he murmured, a light blush crept up to his cheeks. “had to try to grab onto something or else I fall flat on my face.” You found your cheeks also getting warm, you touched your skin, thankful that he was looking in another direction. “Yeah. No problem.” “Fuck off, you two! Flirt somewhere else!” hollered Geto. “OKAY, HOLY SHIT!” hollered Gojo back, rolling his eyes before he looked down at you. “Geto told me you wanted to talk to me about something.” Your breath hitched, and you nodded nervously, he cleared his throat, arm snaking around your waist. Shocked by the sudden realization that he had his arm wrapped around your fucking waist, your heart was now pounding out of your chest, eyes wide. “The plot thickens.” Shoko lazily laid her head down on Geto’s shoulder, he grinned. “That’s my fucking child right there.” — Gojo walked with you on a long, narrow path. Trees as a sort of canopy hung over your head, rustling with the wind. No people in sight. He cleared his throat again, looking down at you. “Uh, here looks really nice. Pretty peaceful, and there’s seating.” he gestured to a bench with his unoccupied hand. You nod as he pulled you a bit closer into him, before letting go. A whine almost leapt out of your throat before he slammed your hands over your mouth, for all you knew he wasn’t going to ask you out, and rather ask you directions to the nearest bathroom or some shit. “Hey, sit down.” Snapping out of your daze, you nodded, sitting down and staring at the opposite direction of wherever he faced. You wished you had the courage to stare at his face, to look at his sunglasses while he ruffled his snow white locks. His defined collarbones, and his chiseled jawline and... “So! What did you wanna talk about, (Y/N)?” you whipped your head to stare at him, jumping a little as you did so. “Um.” FUCK, what were you supposed to say? “...Lovely weather we’re having?” Gojo scoffed, leaning towards you. He really did know how to work a person. Breathing heavier then you were when he pulled you closer to him, you looked at him, anticipating whatever he would say. “I know that’s... Not what you were asking to talk to me for. Let me guess, you have a crush on Geto and you want to ask me how to get him to like you?” ‘What! No!” you responded exasperatedly, hiding your face with your hands. “I... Don’t have a thing for Geto!” “What was that?” Gojo paused, before pulling at your sleeve. “Hey, I couldn’t hear you.” joking teasingly, he fixed his askew sunglasses. “I DON’T HAVE A THING FOR GETO!” He jumped back, rubbing his temples and sighing before chuckling. “You didn’t have to be that fucking loud! Holy shit that hurt my ears.” rubbing them, he looked at you with a laugh. You noted that his friendly behavior was back in business, as opposed to the serious one he had adopted as soon as you started hanging out with Geto. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed as his laughter died out, both of you silent. “Then... Who do you have a thing for?” Gojo whispered breathily, crossing his legs. You opened your mouth, about to respond with every bit of power that you had left inside of your already frazzled body that he was the one that you had a thing for, and the one you had a thing for for multiple fucking months. You closed it before you could, taking a deep breath in. “Hey.” leaning closer into your face, you swore you could count every hair strand that he had. He breathed heavily as well, and his chest heaved, he placed a hand onto your shoulder. “It’s okay, you can tell me.” You shook your head, looking away once again. He cursed to himself, was he too straight forward? Or were you that stupid, did he have to confess himself? No, he didn’t want to damage his pride. He wanted you to confess, to tell him how much you loved him, and the things you wanted to do together. But what if you were going to tell him that you had a thing for Shoko or some shit? “Come on, (Y/N), I won’t judge you.” ‘No!” you shook your head furiously again, “you’re going to judge me!” “I wont, come on, spill!” You bit your lip, twisting yourself to look at him, tears dawning on your eyes. Diving headfirst into his chest, you whined. Fuck it all. “I like you, Gojo.” “...What?” he wrapped his arms around your head, looking down at you sniffling on his t-shirt. “I like you, I like you, I like you DAMN IT!” you whined, banging your fists against his chest weakly. “Woah, hey there little baby.” he pushed your head gently off of him, kissing your red, sweating forehead gently. “I like you too, (Y/N).

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zombryz · 4 years ago

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★ needy ★ a Frieza story

This is based on a request I got from an Anon - “ Do you think you can do a Frieza X Reader where Frieza feels more comfortable about being around the reader so much that he gets a bit clingy towards the reader?“

This will be a multi-part series. Oh how I do love Lord Frieza ♡

TW - mentions of anxiety, kidnapping

“Yo!” You hear a familiar voice from behind you. You spin on your heel to find none other than the tall and hunky saiyan himself, Goku.

“Hi Goku! How are you?” You smiled sweetly at him. He’s been your friend for quite some time now and you’ve gotten used to having him around. His face always lights up when he sees you, as you have a way with people, in this case saiyans. Both him and Vegeta had a soft spot for you and they never really understood why. They eventually just gave in and would do whatever you asked of them, being completely wrapped around your finger.

“I’m great! You ready to do this?” He smirked, making a hmph noise before cracking his knuckles and furrowing his eyebrows downward showing that he meant business. You had invited him over today because you were moving into capsule Corp. He was in charge of moving all your big, heavy furniture. Bulma requested you move in a few months ago but after the whole ‘Beerus almost destroying the world’ thing you decided it might be a good idea to go ahead and finally move in. That way you would always be kept in the loop. You were Bulma’s best friend and you were always babysitting the boys anyways so why not just move in?

“Where do you want this?” Goku questioned holding your whole couch under one arm.

“Um, you can just put it in the loft! Thanks, Goku!” You replied with a kind smile causing his cheeks to turn rosy. You knew that he would do anything for you so you decided to return the favor by always being sweet to him. Everyone around here always called him an idiot and you didn’t feel that he was deserving of that.

He had moved everything into your apartment so quickly without even breaking a sweat. Goku walked back down the stairs dusting off his hands as if it was the easiest task the saiyan has ever had to do. You were so thankful to have him in your life.

“Gosh, thanks Goku. What would I do without you?” You reached up to ruffle his hair causing him to chuckle while he scratched the back of his neck.

“Don’t mention it! I’ll see you at dinner then?” He waved goodbye and took off using instant transmission. You were so excited to have a new place within Capsule Corp. Now if you needed Bulma, you could just walk down the hall instead of having to call her up. You sat on your couch and decided to get a nap in before dinner that evening.

Later that evening, everyone gathered for dinner on the rooftop of Capsule Corp. It was honestly quite cute to have everyone sit together like a big family. You sat with Lord Beerus and Whis to your right and Trunks and Goten to your left. Lord Beerus also took a liking to you, which you figured it couldn’t hurt to have a destroyer on your side. He took the time to actually learn your name which didn’t seem to be a regular occurrence with him and mortals. After dinner you were playing hide and seek with Trunks and Goten, they always outsmarted you by flying or fusing together. You told them that if you were going to play, flying or fusing was against the rules. They weren't too excited about this but they would go along with it because they were always happy to just be playing with you. You were their favorite.

After a tiresome game of hide and seek and finding the boys stuck in a tree you decided to head back to get some sleep. You yawned walking back inside Capsule Corp, that's when you ran into Bulma roaming the halls. She looked a teensy bit nervous and you felt the need to ask her what was wrong.

“Everything ok Bulms?” You approached her slowly placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down a bit without spooking her.

“Oh! Hey, Y/N. Y-Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Her words came off a bit on edge and you couldn’t help but think she was trying to withhold information.

“You sure? You don’t seem okay, you seem a bit anxious..”

“O-okay fine, you got me.” She shakily put her hands up in surrender and you finally let go of her shoulder to cross your arms together. You raised your brow curious to what she was going to say next. “Both Goku and Vegeta left. They went to train with Whis on Beerus' planet..” she paused. You felt as though there was something else she was leaving out. Your brow remained raised, unsure of where this was going. “….we have no way of staying in contact with them, I-I feel a little… unprotected I guess.” she shrugged as if saying it aloud sounded silly. Your eyes widened. A skip in your heart, earth’s greatest protectors - gone? What does this mean? Is there even a threat to earth? Is there going to be a threat? Your head spun a bit when you realized Bulma was still staring at you, she clearly needed comfort from her friend and not a freak out session.

“Come here Bulms, it’s going to be okay” you grabbed one of her arms and pulled her into a tight embrace. “We still have Piccolo and Gohan with us. Oh! And the boys. We’ll be fine if anything happens we’ll just call up Tien and 18.” You unconfidently replied, breaking off the hug you held her shoulders in place so that she could see your trying sincere smile. Her anxiety seemed to knock down a few clicks as you helped calm her down.

“You’re right, It’s going to be okay.” She inhaled and exhaled loudly calming her nerves, “Thanks Y/N. Well, I guess I’ll try to get some sleep now. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to come get me, after all I’m only down the hall now!” She winked as she removed your hands from her shoulders and gave you a swift smile and wave before turning back down the hall towards her place. Finally, you can go back to your new apartment and relax. It had been a long day.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and your living room was pitch black, the only light was emitting from your loft porch. Humming to yourself you walk around your dark room looking for the light switch, it was your first night in your new place and you cursed yourself for not knowing the layout of the room before it had gotten dark. You shuffled around reaching both arms out to feel around the walls for the light switch. At this point you were becoming annoyed, “Ugh” you grunted out loud. You pause for a moment to take a breather and that's when you see them. A pair of what looked like glowing red eyes in the far corner of your living room, they were locked on you and looked like they were coming from behind a lamp that Goku had placed there earlier in the day. You hesitate to scream, figuring maybe it was just an outlet or maybe the boys playing a prank on you. They started to move as if whomever they belonged to began standing up at their full height. That's when you started shaking and you could feel your palms becoming clammy with fear. Whatever it was was charging a ball of energy, the color matching their terrifying eyes. Now would be a good time to scream you thought to yourself, but you were frozen like a deer in headlights.

Shit, shit, shit.

Finally, you let out a gut wrenching scream hoping Goku or Vegeta would barge in and save you from whoever let themselves in your apartment. The being disappears from in front of you, in a frenzy you panic and look around not sure where it went.

“Ah, ah, ah puny earthling.” The unknown creature was now behind you and clapped its large scaly hand over your mouth forcing no more noise out of you. “We don’t want the big bad monkey’s to know that I am here.” It tsked. You were stuck. Trying to calm your breathing you gave in, there was no way you could fight it off. Okay, what now? Still shaking you bring your arms down to your sides not realizing you grasped the hand that was placed tightly over your mouth. “Try that again and I will not hesitate to eliminate you right where you stand, under any normal circumstances you would already be dead at my hands, but unfortunately for the both of us,” a pause, almost as if it was annoyed to say the next part, “I need you to stay alive… for now.”

An understanding, you nodded your head in acceptance and it freed your mouth. All of a sudden the lights came on, blinding you. You covered your eyes trying to get the burn to go away when you finally opened them and saw it, well him? For a lizard man, he was oddly beautiful. He stood taller than you and had ivory skin with amethyst like crystal domes on his head, shoulders, and chest. His figure was rather slender but muscular. Flicking behind him was a long, ivory tail to match. It appeared to be made of pure muscle. He stood with one foot in front of the other showing off his three toed limbs. Wow. You had seen alien creatures before but never one quite like this.

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” you cleared your throat and pulled at your shirt, fixing your appearance unconsciously.

“Rather compliant aren’t we?” he questioned while letting his head hang low, twisting his mouth to form a menacing and twisted smirk. “I will spare you the mechanics of my grand plan,” He raised his head to look you in the eyes while he spoke, “I have been watching you for quite some time, human.” This caused you to raise your brow in curiosity. Why was he watching you? “The monkeys left, and you see.. That will just not do, will it?” he started playing with his nails as if this conversation was boring him.

You decided it was best for you not speak unless he asked you to and so he continued on.

“For now, you will be my hostage. My pawn, if you will. I need those infuriating baboons to come back to earth, I will not continue chasing them around the galaxy just to get my revenge.” He clutched his hand into a fist, anger seething through his teeth.

It finally clicked, standing only a few feet away was the ruthless and power hungry emperor, Lord Frieza. You swallowed your fear, not sure how you got here or why but you weren’t going to fight back in any way risking him to deem you no longer worthy to be in his presence. Goku and Vegeta have told you war stories about him. How did he come back? A single tear began rolling down your cheek causing you to sniffle quietly. Frieza must’ve noticed because he reached out and grabbed your face almost crushing your jaw with the action.

“Oh, do not grow worried little one. I will not hurt you…” a beat. “Today.” He chuckled evilly releasing your face. Great, you remembered Bulma telling you that there would be no contact with Goku or Vegeta. How long would you be Frieza’s prisoner? A panic sweeping over you, your head spinning and just like that your world went dark. You were knocked unconscious, Frieza had forced you to sleep.

-----------------------

“Mom! Mom, wake up!”

Bulma wiped the sleep away from her eyes. She sat up, yawning not sure if what was happening was a dream or not. Finally, fully awake, her eyes focus on Trunks who is hovering over her in a panic.

“It’s Y/N! I heard her scream, I went to check on her and her door was cracked open and there was no sign of her!” The worry in his voice caused Bulma to jump out of bed.

“Trunks, I need you to go get Piccolo and the others. I am afraid something bad is happening.” Bulma tried her best to hide the worry in her voice.

Trunks left and Bulma started pacing her dark room, she had an itch of who might be involved. “Frieza.” she said to herself sternly, slamming her fist into her other hand. She thought to herself, how the hell am I going to get a hold of Goku and Vegeta?

#frieza #lord frieza #dragon ball #dbz #dbs #dbs vegeta #dbs goku #bulma #whis #beerus #fan fiction #frieza imagine #bryannawrites #needy #friezaneedyfic

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fallen029 · 4 years ago

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Basement Ghosts

"There's ghosts in the basement."

Laxus considered this, as he did most things, with a stoic face and long, cold stare, the likes of which could make even the toughest of men cower. But he wasn't facing a man, in that moment, but rather what he'd considered, up until that point, his rather reasonable girlfriend of only a tentative few months. Mirajane Strauss, a staple in the guild he'd loved his entire life, was known for her flights of fancy and frequent vocal daydreams, but he knew her on another level, same as he knew the guild. The man was aware that Fairy Tail, for all it's fabled history, toiled in a lot more darkness than the average observer might realize. For the woman before him in that moment, much or the same could be stated.

She'd gone through a lot in her short few decades of life. From the loss of her parents and excommunication from her home all the way to current day, dealing with the death and revival of her younger sister, Mira hardly had a simple life. She was complex. Everyone was to a certain extent, fine, but her above all.

The past few months, as she and the guild's most fearsome dragon slayer began, for the first time in their life, to truly dig deeper into one another, begin to understand what the draw was, that had always been between then, just beneath the now exposed surface, he truly thought he was beginning to get to know her. The deeply guarded her, that no other had seen. It had felt like they were forming a bond, these past few months. Though it hadn't been long, Laxus was finding himself becoming rather attached to both the idea of the woman and learning more about her.

Then she has to go say stupid shit like that and ruin it.

"Well," Laxus began finally, tone as void as ever, "guess I should be heading out the."

"You're that terrified of ghosts?" Mirajane asked with a slight frown.

"Nope," he answered with a subtle shake of the head. "Just not interested in entertaining nonsense, is all."

"You think I'm being nonsensical?"

Mira asked this in surprise, her down turned lips turning to form something else instead as her gaze hardened. It was hardly something any woman enjoyed, the slight telltale signs of mockery in the face of unconventional lines of thought, and she hated it even more, the way her boyfriend tossed a hand up, as if in defense.

"Look, it's fine, alright?" He even shrugged. "I was just going to look at your pipes as a courtesy. You said Elfman usually does it? Call him over. But I-"

"You're being a jerk."

"How?" His tone changed then, as he as the one on the defensive. "Just because I don't wanna play into your stupid ghost claims?"

"Stupid," Mirajane repeated softly and it was a word of contention, frequently in her line of work, but Laxus didn't transition into preventative measures. Only narrowed his eyes a bit as she questioned, "Why would you say that? You know that I-

"Try again, demon," he remarked with a hardness not typically used on a woman in apparent dismay. "You've told me before about how you can turn the waterworks on and off."

She glared through her tears as, not even wiping at them, she only remarked, "It's still mean, Laxus. To call someone stupid."

"I didn't."

"You might as well have." Huffing some, the woman took to crossing her arms over her chest as she looked off.

The pair were having this argument in her kitchen, where she'd taken the man not soon after he entered the Strauss home that afternoon. It wasn't unusual in those days for the slayer to spend some of his extra time in Magnolia there, but it there had been an intended purpose for his summoning to the old house that day. Mirajane had requested he come down and look at a leaking pipe in the basement. After confirming that, no, this wasn't a euphemism, she actually wanted him to go down into the basement and look at a pipe, they found themselves having this conversation.

She'd intended it as nothing more than a simple warning. A reasoning for her own inability to head down there.

The basement ghosts.

It all felt very reasonable to the woman and, were it another she was speaking to, they'd have probably allowed her to continue on in this delusion. Not the dragon though. Oh no. He wasn't so sure yet if he was trying to spend the rest of his life with this woman, but he was surely beginning to scope the potential that they had together. Part of that included calling the woman out when she played into her trumped up role at the hall a bit too much. She delivered the same in kind, to him, when he got a bit too brooding and judgmental.

But he was expected to take her light ribbing and outright behavioral corrections while the woman, in turn, was not.

"If you don't really think there's basement ghosts," she challenged suddenly, looking back to the man suddenly, "then you go down in the basement."

"I mean, I was planning on it," Laxus told her. "To fix the pipes. Remember?"

"At night," she specified as her eyes began to narrow. "You go down into the basement, at night. And stay down there. And you'll see."

Laxus huffed some, his chest puffing as he did so, before telling the woman simply, "Fine. If that's what it'll take to prove to you-"

"It'll only take one night," Mira challenged back, "to prove it to you."

The Strauss basement was an unfinished, stuffed to the gills storage place it seemed for all of the junk Mirajane couldn't fit in the attic. There were boxes upon boxes that Laxus could only imagine were, truly, junk and now he had two reasons that he should find a way to end things with the demon.

A horder and a loon.

It was night now, as he'd agreed to only head down there after sundown, but Laxus still intended to check on the leaky pipe she'd originally told him about. Along with his toolbox though, the slayer also carried a sleeping bag and fully intended on spending a night down in the drafty basement.

Honestly, it would hardly be the worse place he'd laid his head.

Mirajane wouldn't venture down with him, instead only waving goodbye to him from the top of the stairs. This was annoying to Laxus who'd hoped she'd at least go down so he could play big, strong protector when the pipes chirping or shutters fluttering or whatever was causing her to hear noises at night appeared.

Alone though, Laxus only tossed his sleeping bag down before fishing out a flashlight and looking over the piping in one corner. It was easy enough to find where the drip was coming from and it was an easy enough fix. Just a bit loose, was all the pipe was, and after a few quickly twists of a monkey wrench, all was well.

"There," Laxus sighed some. "That- Hey! I someone down here?"

He hated to be so spooked, so soon, but he felt it then. Sensed it. A presence. Eyes on him. As he spun about though, shining his flashlight around, all he could catch were shadows from the numerous boxes.

"Laxus," Mirajane called down from the top of the stairs. "Are you okay down there?"

"Peachy," he called back as the man merely rolled his shoulders and decided he was just psyching himself out. Clearly. "Fixed your pipe too."

"Great!" Mira even clapped. "Now are you sure you're going to spend the night down there? Or are you ready to admit that the basement ghosts are real?"

"I will literally never, ever do that, Mira."

"Well," she sighed some, "I'm going to have to close you in, then. I'm tired and have work in the morning. You can come up and join me at any time- But you'll have to admit that the basement ghosts are-"

"I'm not," he reiterated for the woman, "doing that."

"Fine." And the light at the top of the stairs started to dissipate as the woman, slowly, began to close the door. "Be safe."

"Be fucking safe," he grumbled only once he was certain the door was fully closed and the woman had gone off, to start on her before bed routine. "From what? Huh?"

Laxus was a bit of a night owl, to be honest, but he didn't have much to do down in the dusty old cellar other than wait for the not coming ghosts, so he figured it was best to just begin setting up his sleeping bag. Maybe go ahead and hunker down for the night. Then he could rise around the time that the demon got up to leave for the guild each morning, even earlier maybe, just to shove in her face that no, there were absolutely no such thing as 'basement ghosts'.

He was fearful that the woman would counter with some bullshit about them just not showing themselves to him. And he wasn't quite sure how he could counter that in a way that would avoid him having to spend the night down in the basement again.

Because while Laxus was willing to spend one night in the dark, dank basement to prove his devotion to his girlfriend (as well as shove in her face just how wrong she'd been), he wasn't so certain that he was willing to do it a second time.

Or a third.

Or fourth.

Part of him was worried that the demon had just trapped him down in the basement or something. Or at least that's where his mind wondered to, as he had a fitful time drifting off to sleep that night. The ground felt lumpy and his sleeping bag smelled a bit, or was it just the basement, and he kept catching weird shadows hiding behind boxes and oh gosh, what if something was down there with him? What if she was right? What if in the world of reanimated masters and magical beings, there was such things as ghost and they were going to devour him in the night?

Cannibal ghosts.

Or...would they not be cannibals now that they were no longer living beings?

Needless to say, some of these questions were answered in his dreams, others left to interpretation. Over all though, he did get a good few hours in there when he truly was asleep.

And then something awoke him.

It was a low creak, from the top of the basement stairs. The a louder creak, multiple now, from the stairs now as the old wood whined at even the lightest of pressure applied. Laxus, though somewhat dazed, immediately thought that it was his girlfriend, maybe, either coming down to check on him or realize how ridiculous this all was and bring him upstairs.

He hoped it was the second.

Or if it was the first, that he could trick her into the latter.

Rolling over, Laxus kicked out of his sleeping bag with a loud yawn, calling out as he climbed to his feet, "Come to get me, eh, demon?"

There had been a soft light, a flashlight maybe, a tiny one, that the person coming down the steps was carrying and as they raised it to shine into his eyes, blinding the wincing man, they called out themselves. Only it wasn't Mirajane.

"Laxus?"

"What the- Lisanna, get that out of my face? What are you-"

"Oh, god, are you naked?"

"No! I'm my briefs."

"You're what?"

"They're- Stop shining that light in my face!"

There was a strange moment where Laxus, now shamed for his underwear choice, took a step back, as if to shield himself, while Lisanna did lower the light, but was clearly snickering a bit as his state. The moment would have passed, as all do, and Lisanna might have made some sort of excuse as to being down there while Laxus would have only dove back under his smelly sleeping bag cover, but this opportunity was dashed as another person in the basement made themselves known.

"Oi, boss, I can take you being a total creeper, sleepin' down in my basement and all, but you're not sexually harassin' my girlfriend, are ya?" came a booming accusation from behind a pile of boxes.

"Are ya?" added a resounding echo as a soft, green glow of light also highlighted the boxes.

Laxus jumped at the sounded, whirling around while growling, "What the shit?"

It was Bickslow back there, making himself known as he stepped out from behind a fortress of forgotten junk hands on his hips, out of his typical gear, not even a visor. For all intents and purposes, it looked as if he'd been sleeping as well, honestly.

"Bickslow," Lisanna complained with a glare his way. "Why did you tell him that?"

"We were caught, Lissy," he assured the woman simply. "You don't free yourself from a trap by flailing wildly; you look to the trapper right in the eyes and challenge him."

"Challenge him?" Laxus frowned at the assertion. "And what the hell are you even doing here? In the basement? Are you… Trying to rob the Strausses? Or something? I'm...really having a hard time understanding why else you'd be-"

"Ain't obvious?" And he came closer then, Bickslow did, to find his place beside the still glaring Lisanna. "I'm bonin' one of 'em, same as you."

He took a step back again, Laxus did, blinking some. Blinking some more. Stunned. Dazed.

Very convinced this was just a strange dream stemming from his awkward sleeping situation.

Still, after a deep breath, Laxus took to nodding some, accepting the nonsensical pairing for a very brief moment before questioning, "Why were you hiding in the basement?"

"Kicked out of my apartment. Wanted to be with woman." Bickslow raised an eyebrow at his typical idol. "You?"

But Laxus didn't answer questions that didn't fall from the mouth of his demon.

"Yeah, why are you down here?"

Or her little sister.

"I," he told them both with a frown, "was sent to spend the night down here by your sister, Lisanna, because she thinks that there's ghosts down here. And I can only guess who could be causing her to think that."

Nodding, Bickslow decided, "The rats."

Laxus, frowning, rushed to bend down and snatch up his sleeping bag (this actually worked to cover his body), complaining loudly, "There's rats?"

"No!" Lisanna turned her glare on him. Then she took a pause and thought. "Well-"

"Can't a man hide out in his girlfriend's basement because he can't afford rent because he's been avoiding taking jobs because he wants to be around said girlfriend?" Bickslow shook his head as his floating babies scoffed on his behalf. "What's the world comin' too, eh?"

Laxus stood there, sleeping bag in hand, glancing back and forth between the two people in front of him before deciding, "I'm going to tell Mirajane."

"No, Laxus, don't." And Lisanna rushed to grab his arm then, the man glaring down at her as she dropped the flashlight and it rolled away from them. "Please."

"Why shouldn't I?" he questioned. "This is fucking weird, Lisanna. "This is fucking weird, Lisanna. Bickslow is fucking weird."

"Oi, boss." He'd gone to snatch the flashlight back up, but did send a sorrowful glance over his shoulder to his idol. "You wound me."

"How long has this even been going on?" Laxus went on. "Huh? Not this weird...basement stuff, but… Lisanna...are you actually dating him?"

"W-Well-"

"You need to talk to your sister."

"You don't get it." She clung tighter to his arm. "Laxus, please-"

"Please what? Don't tell my girlfriend that her little sister is meeting with a strange man in the basement to...to… This isn't my business. Or interest. So I'm going to go get Mira and-"

"She ruins things."

"What?"

Lisanna released his arm as the man wasn't moving forward then, only nodding some as he stood agape at her.

"Mira...and Elfman… They both think of me as a little kid. A lot. And I'm not. I'm only a year and a few months younger than Elfman! Not even a full three from Mira." Lisanna shook her head. "But especially now, after the whole...escaping death thing, they both treat me like a complete child. And any time I've tried dating someone, they ruin it. Not on purpose, but by being overbearing and weird."

"Your sister is overbearing or weird with or without a death," Laxus pointed out.

"Then you understand how much harder it is with a death," Lisanna insisted. "You saw how it was, Laxus, two months ago when I brought that guy home to dinner? And they scared him off?"

As someone who'd had an unfortunate invite to that shitshow, he could recall Elfman and Mirajane asking rather pointed questions and making some not so veiled threats, or at least claims to immense power that could be contorted into threats.

Laxus was sure his presence, brooding and annoyed over how slow the dinner was going, hadn't been much help at all.

When Lisanna got broke up with the next week, it was just as well for her siblings, who got to pat her on the head and dry her eyes, as well as Laxus, who was just glad he wouldn't have to sit through another dinner with that guy.

It never occurred to him that, should all the dinners continue going that way, then there would just be an endless string of bringing a guy home for the first time and, damn, he was never not going to hate those.

"In what way is Bickslow the answer to any of that?" Laxus griped to the woman then and Lisanna could only sigh.

"He's not." She glanced over at him then, watching as the seith held the flashlight out, onto a clear wall, for his babies to flutter around, casting spooky shadows in the otherwise dark basement. "But I do really like him. And he really likes me."

"And you're having him sleep in your basement because-"

"He fell behind on his rent and I was trying to be a good girlfriend and give him a place to stay."

"Lisanna." And Laxus hated to have to be the one to explain this to her. Leaning closer, he said softly, "If you've only been dating a guy for a short amount of time and he defaults on his debts, it's a sign you should cut him loose, not stow him away in your basement."

"I have ears, boss," Bickslow complained as he glanced over at the pair of them.

"Yeah? So does my precious demon who is scared to death of coming down here." Laxus remembered that, actually, he had a very good reason to be annoyed by this entire situation and it had nothing to do with protecting poor innocent, previously dead Lisanna's innocence. Because fine, maybe he scared that guy off too. Because no one should just get to date his girlfriend's little sister without proving themselves worthy. "She's terrified that her house is haunted."

"I mean, it is." Bickslow went back to watching his babies gleefully fly through the light. "There's fucking ghosts down here, dude."

Lisanna shrugged some. "It's a basement. Of course there are."

"I," Laxus said simply as he hiked his sleeping bag up higher and took another step away from Lisanna, "Don't have time for this. For any of this. This...Strauss nonsense. You're all insane. In fact, I think your brother might be the sanest one among you, which is actually killing me to say, you have no idea."

"Laxus, don't tell Mira," Lisanna pleaded with his back now as he headed up the stairs with a shake of his head. "Please?"

He didn't answer her.

But he also didn't go to her sister's room to break the news either.

Instead, he went to stretch out on the couch and just...process all of the information he'd just learned.

He and Bickslow would be having a huge talk about all of this.

Well, he would have a huge, one-sided yelling match at the nitwit and send his ass back out on jobs and to not neglect his duties for some woman.

Even if that woman was a Strauss.

Because he definitely understood the motivation.

That morning, he awoke to the sound of someone milling around in the kitchen, humming, and this time, it was without a doubt his demon.

Laxus was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when he found her in there, doing more than she usually would to get ready in the morning as she seemed to making him breakfast. Laxus recognized the signature, over-sized omelet she loved to serve him anywhere. In the corner of the kitchen, Lisanna was there as well. She was hunched over the coffee maker, clearly tense and nervous. For all the times that he'd spent the night at the Strauss house, Laxus had never known her to be an early riser without provocation, but he imagined there wasn't much for sleeping when you were dreading what was to come.

"Morning, dragon," Mirajane called all the same, hardly glancing over her shoulder at him. "Sleep well?"

And Lisanna stood upright then, turning to watch them, a stricken look on her face. She'd been glad, no doubt, to find Laxus snoozing on the couch that early morning, but now would be just as good a chance for him to ruin everything for her, she knew, and it was with a held breath that she watched the man come to wrap his arms tightly around his girlfriend, hugging her from behind.

"No," he remarked simply, nuzzling his head into her neck as the woman giggled. "There's ghosts in the basement."

"See!" Mira giggled as she folded the egg mixture in the pan. "I told you."

"Yeah." Laxus eyes though where on Lisanna, who he'd have to talk with as well as. Make her realize that she had to tell her sister and brother, eventually. Him keeping her secret, for now, hinged on the fact that very soon there would be nothing to keep. "Shouldda listened to you."

Lisanna bowed her head, in his direction, smiling and clearly pleased, but Laxus only went back to snuggling his demon, watching his food cook from over her shoulder.

"I bet though," Laxus told his girlfriend, "that within the next, oh, few weeks? Days? I can get someone down to the basement to exorcise any ghosts. Free you of them. If you want."

This statement caused Lisanna's joy to immediately flee, but Laxus ignored her as Mira only hummed, mulling over this idea a bit, before shaking both her head and herself free of him.

"No."

"No?" Laxus complained, watching as she moved to transfer his omelet to a waiting plate on the counter top. "What do you mean? Why not?"

"All basements have ghosts, Laxus," she told him simply. "And all ghosts have basements."

"You're not making any sense."

"I," she said as, finished with his breakfast preparations, she turned to head out of the room and no doubt get ready for the day, "own this house, so I get to decide what ghosts linger and which don't."

"Yeah, well," he complained to her back as she left the room, "this dragon lives in an apartment. So where do my ghosts linger, huh? Demon?"

He got no reply and that was fine as he only sent to slouch over at a kitchen table chair, stabbing at his food with a heavy frown.

Lisanna, seizing the moment, rushed to go to a seat across from him.

"So," she began, "you're not gonna tell Mira about-"

"Look, kid." He hardly glanced up at her. "Your boyfriend isn't going to stay in the basement, being a bum forever. I'm making sure of it. Starting today. And you need to grow some backbone about all this. Understand?"

Scoffing, she remarked simply, "Mira said that the ghosts can stay."

"Mira says a lot of things." He tossed up a free hand. "And I go along with them because I love her."

And Lisanna forgot about her own troubles for a moment, just to giggle at the usually stoic man's expense.

"You what her? Laxus?" she asked with a glint in her eyes.

"I," he assured the woman's younger sister, "love her."

"Awe."

"And if that means enabling some of her less pleasant qualities, fine." He looked at Lisanna fully then. "But no one makes my demon look stupid. And stowing away your boyfriend in the house that she owns isn't going to cut it. Understand?"

Lisanna slumped then herself, sighing as she remarked, "I just… I just want something that's mine. Not Mira and Elfman's. And I know that you think that Bickslow's a big joke and that he's your...lackey or something-"

"Bodyguard."

"You're not that famous, Laxus." Lisanna had never rightly felt the fear others did around the man. Even before her sister charmed him. "No one gives enough of a shit about you for you to need one of those."

"Hey-"

"I like him." Lisanna shook her head then. "I don't know why. But I do know that it'll all get ruined, if everyone finds out. You just don't understand."

Staring at her for a long moment, Laxus replied, "You think that I didn't feel the same way? About your sister? You chumps up at the bar ruin everything. Constantly. And yeah, they'll probably ruin you and Bickslow too. But me and your sister made it through. If you're meant to be together, you're meant to be together. And look at it this way, after you tell them, yeah, for a day or two, maybe a week, it'll be an item of interest, but then something new will blow through the hall. It always does. And if you're thinking about getting serious with Bickslow-"

"Serious?"

"Like...looking at him as marriage material and-"

And she laughed. Loudly. Genuinely. As Laxus only stared blankly, Lisanna simply shook her head.

"I'm only twenty-one, Laxus." She frowned at him. "I'm not thinking about marrying anyone I date. Ever. Gross. Ew, are you gonna marry my sister?"

"Lisanna-"

"Are you thinking about it? Does she know?"

"Knock it off."

"Big brother Laxus?"

"I'm gonna go tell her about Bickslow."

"She must be something special," Lisanna kept up, even still, as she leaned over the table just to poke the man's cheek, grinning cheekily herself. "My sister. For you to be thinking so heavily about that and all."

"She is." Laxus grabbed her finger then, tightly, as he looked the younger woman dead in the eyes. "To me. "And I won't see her taken advantage of. Do you understand me?"

Jerking her finger back, Lisanna nodded slightly as she sat back in her own seat. Softly though, she said, "Thank you. Laxus."

"Yeah." He went back to his food with a bit of a grunt. "Don't mention it."

#Miraxus #Bixanna #Mirajane Strauss #Laxus Dreyar #Lisanna Strauss #Bickslow #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction

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tigerseye46 · 4 years ago

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Summary: In which after repeatedly believing Tang doesn’t care about him then receiving his attention after an accident that reveals he’s Sha Wujing, Sandy snaps. (Comes from the second scenario of this, will post the fic for the first scenario later)

Sandy was at his limit, so close to snapping and that didn’t happen, not with him. He was calm like a gentle wave but waves can ripple, be disrupted by some outside force causing the water to react almost violently before slowly returning to its tranquility.

And the thing disrupting him was Tang.

He liked Tang, he did, well love would be the more correct term for it. The scholar was knowledgeable, the amount of information that dripped from his lips could leave anyone in awe. He had a charm to him, a lively, bubbling personality that reeled Sandy in. Everything about him was beautiful and blinding and all Sandy wanted was a simple touch, a simple smile directed his way.

Tang never showed him much attention or affection, preferring to focus more on people worth his time and making small, snarky comments on the days Sandy chose to hang out with the group. It left the clear impression that the scholar could care less about him. An aching rang in his chest everytime it happened, all he wanted was a bit of affection.

And now he was getting it. Usually he would be overjoyed at finally getting what he longed for but the reason for it was not ideal.

Due to a recent adventure, the others had found out he was Sha Wujing despite his best attempts to hide that fact. There had been a mix of confusion and excitement then a promise that they would treat him the same, a promise that everyone except Tang had made.

Tang treated him rather differently, no longer treating him with scorn but amazement instead, all because he was Sha Wujing and not because the scholar liked him for him, only because he was a legend, it's the only reason he began to take interest in him.

“Sandy! Sandy,” Tang called, breaking the demon away from his thoughts.

“Yes, Tang?” He answered.

“You haven’t moved in a bit. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied. “I was just…” What was he doing? Oh, that’s right, he had been working on an invention that he thought would assist the group. “I was just checking the engine of this to see if it’s good enough.”

“Oh! Okay! As I was saying it was amazing that you-”

“Tang.”

“Yes, Sandy?”

“Shouldn’t you be at Pigsy’s right now?”

The scholar hummed as if he was briefly mulling over his answer before responding with an enthusiastic “Nope!”

Sandy held back a sigh, that was another thing that had changed, ever since the reveal the human had refused to leave his side, going on and on about Sandy’s adventures during the Journey to the West. He didn’t even go to Pigsy’s sometimes!

“Okay.” He wheeled himself out of the invention to face Tang who was staring at him with a smile that felt wrong. “Can you pass me that wrench?” He gestured to a wrench that sat still on the table.

“Of course!” He grabbed the wrench and passed it to the other, their fingers brushing together and pink dusting on the human’s cheeks that the fish failed to notice.

Sandy wheeled himself back under and used the object in his hands to tighten certain bolts. The human focused on him all sparkly eyed, happy to see him in his element. The whole scene made his heart beat wildly against his chest. He wanted it to be like this forever, just him and Sandy together.

He had liked Sandy for a long time, although he had never voiced it out loud. The other was helpful, kind and always there when you needed him. How could he not like him? He didn’t think he could like him more than he already did then it turned out he was Sha Wujing! Sha Wujing was so impressive from the legends even though he wasn’t necessarily the strongest disciple out there.

It made him a bit insecure to be in his presence since the other was so great. He was only a simple scholar despite his bravado, how could he possibly make Sandy look at him? Then he made a decision to use his knowledge to impress Sandy, it would show the demon that he knew a lot about him! He assumed it had been going pretty well based on the fact that the demon had been so sweet by letting him help out.

“You know it was so impressive when you killed that demon that tried to impersonate you!”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be reminded of that old violent part of him.

“And then you alerted everyone! It’s really impressive.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled again, a twinge of annoyance and anger shot through him. Why was he only interested in him because of this?

“And when you first met the group, that was cool!” Sandy took deep breaths to calm himself down. Don’t snap. Don’t snap. “You were smart, you hid yourself in the water where the Monkey King couldn’t get to you! And you faced off against Zhu Bajie wonderfully! And-!”

He grinded his teeth together and used his feet to bring himself out from under his invention. He stood up rapidly with brows furrowed. “Ugh! Do you ever shut up?”

The scholar frowned and gave a broken “Wha-what?”

“It’s annoying,” he started, “like have you ever listened to your own voice? It’s grating and you bring up things I don’t care about. Going on about this and that. Also do you think I like being reminded of my past that often? I spent time trying to change and you want to bring up all that again!” His eyes flashed to symbolize his anger. “It pisses me off.”

This was a surprise. Tang thought he was doing well but apparently he had screwed something up. His bottom lip quivered and tears pooled his eyes. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

The demon’s eyes widened, realization smacking him in the face. “Tang…” He stepped forward, taking a step back when the other flinched. “I didn’t mean to-!”

“It’s fine! I get it, totally! I won’t bother you again!” He mustered up a smile which wasn't hidden as small droplets fell from his face. “I promise, Sandy! I’ll leave you alone!”

“No, Tang. I-!”

“Bye!” He rushed off, leaving Sandy in a pool of regret. He attempted to go after him but the scholar was too quick and already gone.

He combed his fingers through his hair and sat down on his couch defeated. Mo nuzzled his leg and he left a gentle pat on his fur. “What am I going to do, Mo? I didn’t mean to snap. I hurt Tang!” Mo meowed and suddenly a light bulb went off in the other’s head. “Okay. I’ll just apologize when I hang out with the others tomorrow! Thanks, Mo! You’re great!” The cat puffed up his chest which made Sandy laugh.

The next day when Sandy saw the others, he made sure to hide any traces of his lack of sleep, too busy with finding the perfect way to make it up to Tang. Pigsy, MK and Mei were in a small circle chatting with each other while Tang was off to the side, rubbing his arm and looking down at the ground.

He approached them, then waved and yelled, “Hey, guys!” He directed his attention at the scholar. “Hey, Tang!”

“H-hi.” His shoulders were hunched and he hid himself behind the others, it shattered the demon’s heart, he made Tang scared of him.

The group noticed this exchange but remained silent. “Hey, Sandy,” Pigsy greeted. “Ready to go?”

“Yep! Where are we going? Because I think we should go to a bookstore!”

“A bookstore? Why that specifically?”

“Well Tang likes bookstores and they’re cool so we should go there!”

“Uhhhh… what do you think, Tang?”

“That’s fine,” he replied meekly.

The pig bobbed his head. “Okay, we’ll go there.”

They walked towards the bookstore with Sandy trying to get close to Tang but the human would only back away from him.

The entire day, Tang made sure to never be alone with him so they couldn’t talk properly. It continued like that day in and day out, he left the scholar a bunch of messages and calls when they weren’t around each other to apologize yet he wouldn’t answer, same with showing up at his apartment.

He heard a knock on his door late at night, he grinned, it might be Tang! He opened it to see Pigsy with a firm grip on Tang’s shirt, the human tried to scurry away. “Ummmm, hey…”

The pig rubbed the bridge of his snout with his free hand. “Hey… look I don’t know what’s been goin’ on with you two the past few days but you need to talk it out or else.” He shoved Tang into the inside of Sandy's boat.

“Pigsy,” Tang cried.

He waggled a finger at him. “I’m serious. Whatever this is has been goin’ on long enough. Fix it! “And if I see you walk out, I’m draggin’ your ass right back in,” he threatened and went away, slamming the other demon’s door shut.

“Tang…”

“I’m sorry, Sandy! I told him we shouldn’t come here but he wouldn’t listen!”

“It’s okay,” he assured. “Do you want some tea?”

“Sure. It wouldn’t bother you?”

“It’s no bother. Sit down.”

“Okay.” He sat on the couch, his hands on his lap, trying not to fidget.

Sandy sighed and made tea in a hurry then passed it to him.

“Thank you. I…”

“I’m sorry,” he cut the other off.

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for snapping at you.”

“No, it’s fine. Looking back at it, I was pretty annoying.”

“No, you weren’t. You were fine. I was the problem. I scared you.”

“You didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t excuse it. You deserve better than that. I… truth is…” He huffed. “The truth of why I acted like that is because I believed you didn’t care about me.”

“Huh?”

He sipped his tea and explained, “Ever since you found out I was Sha Wujing, you’ve been acting differently. You pay attention to me now, you never did that before and… it’s great you know but at the same time it hurts. You only look at me now because I’m Sha Wujing and not cause you actually like me for me.”

“What?” Tang hissed. “You thought I only liked you because you’re Sha Wujing?”

“Yea…”

Tang smacked him in the chest. “I don’t like you because of that! But did I really give you that impression? How?”

“Tang, you make snarky comments rather I hang out with you all or not.”

“I was joking… I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

“I know.”

“I’ve always liked you…”

Sandy stared at him wide-eyed. “What?”

“I’ve liked you for a while even before I knew your true identity. You’re just so sweet and kind. I didn’t know how to tell you then when it was revealed who you were, I wanted to impress you so I started spewing off every bit of your stories that I could.”

“Really?��

He bobbed his head. “Really. You're so cool and have been through so much and I haven’t… I wanted to make you like me.”

“Tang, I already like you.”

“Not as a friend, Sandy. More than that.”

“I like you as more than a friend.”

Tang’s cheeks turned pink. “Are you serious?”

“Yea! I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t mean it.”

“Can- can I kiss you?”

Sandy choked and nodded. “Yea, I would love that.”

The scholar grinned and cupped his cheek with his free hand before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips which he returned, it was slow and sweet. “I love you,” the scholar confessed as they separated with their lips inches apart.

“I love you too. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

They kissed again, not paying attention to the chorus of meows that cheered them on.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #jasmineteashipping #jasminetea #lmk sandy #sandy #tang #my fic

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varian-and-the-seven-skies · 5 years ago

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Cor Meum | Chapter One: City of the Sun

Synopsis: In a world of floating cities and steamships, Captain Rapunzel runs the fastest ship in all the skies. But this rowdy crew is not without its secrets—or its treasures— and Hugo, newly-hired, is ready to discover them all. Now if only Varian, the whip-smart lead engineer, would get out of his way.

A TTS & 7k AU of epic proportions, featuring cool fight scenes, steampunk machinery, and an inevitable romance. Written by @littlemisslol-fic and @izaswritings.

AO3 Link is here!

Fic Playlist can be found here!

Chapter One: City of the Sun

“Need a hand there, goggles?”

The voice, barely audible over the sound of welding and banging metal of the mechanic’s shop, draws Varian’s attention away from the chaos of the engine above him. With a beleaguered sigh he stares mournfully up at the greasy gears and other assorted guts of the machine. His eyes flick down to see a pair of black, perfectly polished leather boots waiting patiently near the edge of the suspended machine, and it takes more than a little willpower not to groan.

Varian grits his teeth. He does not have time for this. He only has until tomorrow to fix this stupid thing before the ship’s due to take off; he’s already been working on it for three days, and if he can’t get it running the Captain is going to flip.

The leather boots that Varian can see past the edge of the engine shift slightly, and Varian can feel more than see the light kick of someone else’s shoe against his own. The large silver buckles on the boots flash just enough to be annoying, and Varian makes a face. The voice drifts back down to where Varian has hidden himself under the engine, and it takes everything in him not to groan.

“Hey, can you hear me under there?” it says impatiently.

Varian plants his back a little more firmly on the rolling mechanic’s bed he’s lying on and pulls on the outer casing of the engine, rolling himself out from under the machine with a small grunt.

He slams his eyes shut against the sudden change in light, blinding even behind the protective lens of his goggles. When he opens them again he can see a tall figure leaning over him, blocking out most of the sunlight coming in from the skylights embedded in the iron ceiling of the shop. Varian cricks his neck, looking around in a last desperate attempt to ignore the person hovering over him.

The mechanic’s shop is certainly distracting enough, stuffed full of people just as grease-covered and irritated as Varian, all of them suffering together in the heat caused by welding and hard work. Made of thick stone and wrought iron, the large space offers room to spread out that you just didn’t get in airships, making it the best place for Varian to do his work with big projects like engine twelve’s sad, hollowed out corpse. Large windows dot the ceiling like stars, offering light and just the smallest hint of the blue skies above. The shop is, if anything, supposed to be a safe haven for the mechanically minded. People aren’t supposed to try and talk to each other, which is something Varian cherishes. Nothing worse than trying to piece together penny-sized cogs or a delicate engine part only to be interrupted by a nosey crewmate.

Which is why blondie being here is certainly quite the insubordination. Society has rules, damn it.

Varian wipes his gloves clean off his apron before pushing his goggles up onto the top of his head, linking his fingers and stretching his arms out towards the ceiling. He lets his arms flop back down with a sigh, and finally locks eyes with the person above him.

Varian arches a brow, and the blond’s smile splits just a little wider.

“I’m sorry?” Varian asks, not exactly friendly. By the Maker, he really doesn’t have time for this.

“I asked if you needed a hand,” the blond replies, a glint in his green eyes. He’s tall, is Varian’s first impression, tall enough that he’s likely got at least a head of height on Varian if they were to stand shoulder to shoulder. Varian would say he’s muscular, but there’s the sneaking suspicion that it’s really more the black leather coat that makes the teen in front of him look that way. Varian has employed similar tactics in the past; he knows the tricks. Get a big coat with a large, pointed collar and massive cuffs and boom, suddenly you’re twice as intimidating as you were before. It's a good coat, though, if a bit heavy for Corona weather. Shining silver buttons line the length of the jacket, and it has deep pockets that Varian can only assume are full of fun little tricks from experience. The silver continues on the blond’s vest as well, a trim piece of green fabric with polished silver buttons and a faint embroidery.

Blond hair, chopped in a rough undercut, frames the other teen’s thin face in an annoyingly aesthetic kind of way, held back from his face by the wire frames of the other teen’s circular glasses. Green eyes meet Varian’s own, and the blond smirks at Varian’s blatant staring.

In all honesty, he almost looks out of place, dressed up just a little too much to be skulking around with the grease-monkeys Varian calls his contemporaries. If anything, the quick flash of a silver rapier on the blond’s belt cinches it. Whoever this teenager is, he’s either from money, or pretending to be from money, both of which are irritating in their own way.

Varian bites the inside of his cheek, trying to find a way to reply politely.

“No, thank you,” is what he spits out instead, grabbing at the engine and starting to pull himself back under it. The blond’s heavy boot slams down on top, the mechanic’s bed jerking to a halt, and Varian’s teeth click uncomfortably together at the force of it. The engine swings a little dangerously from where it’s suspended between two large chains, holding it high so the underside of it is easily accessible. Varian stops mid-yank and glares.

The boy just smiles, annoyingly unphased.

“Aw, c’mon, goggles,” the blond says with that same irritating smile, green eyes bright behind his round glasses. “Isn’t that a little heavy for a tiny thing like you? Don’t you want the extra help?”

Varian huffs in offense, already done with this conversation. The shop’s agonizingly hot, even with the windows thrown open. It’s loud, dirty, generally rather unpleasant with the stink of grease and sweat, and though it’s the best place to work in the dockyard it’s still chaotic at best. Varian only has another eighteen hours to figure out what the problem with this engine is before they’re due to take off from Corona again, and Varian knows it’s his ass on the line if the work doesn’t get done. He doesn’t have time for some uppity asshole to think he knows more than Varian and try to upstage everything.

“I have a name, you know,” Varian says, coldly, looking the guy dead in the eye.

“Can I know it?” The blond winks at him. He seems to think he’s making headway.

“Nope,” Varian replies with a peppy smile. There’s a moment of shock, and that’s all he needs to yank his mechanic’s bed out from under the blond’s black boot, disappearing back under the engine.

Finally. Back where he belongs, the annoyance avoided. Varian scratches at his face idly, bringing his googles back down over his eyes, setting his mind back onto his work. He peers up into the open panel at the bottom of the engine, noting the interweaving cogs that should in theory be working by now. After the bloody pirate attack a week ago, engine twelve, or specifically this part of it, had taken a hell of a beating. The Captain had pushed her too far again, causing something inside to rupture and spew parts across the engine room floor like a geyser, and in turn Varian has spent the last three days desperately trying to piece it back together. Something is still wrong with it, though, and it��s driving Varian insane trying to figure it out.

“Come on, darling,” Varian mutters to himself, taking a wrench to one of the bolts. “Talk to me.”

He gets no answer. Instead a small plume of dust and grease spurts out of the machine onto Varian’s face, only just splattering onto his goggles instead of his skin. Lovely. He grits his teeth, reaching in to really give it a piece of his mind—

“It’s the bolt on the timing belt,” the blond pipes up from beyond the engine. “If you leave it as-is, it’s going to fall apart the minute you try to take off.”

…Oh. Varian looks up to the timing belt, tucked away neatly near the upper left side of the engine, and lo and behold, one of the bolts holding it in place is missing. Damnit. Varian peeks up through the engine, up to where the top panel’s been removed as well, and just catches a glint of green eyes peering down at him through the guts of the machine. There’s a minute of debate in him, how much does he value his pride? Enough to admit he was wrong to this irritating little—?

“Look, pipsqueak,” the blond says, his voice filtering through the cogs and gears. “I know machines. Just trust that I know what I’m talking about?”

Varian clenches his hand around the wrench, wondering how long he can go without committing murder. Maybe if he made it look like an accident…?

He rolls back out from under the engine again. The wheels make a protesting noise against the cobblestone floor. This time when he comes to a stop, he sits up properly, shoving his goggles back up to rest haphazardly on his forehead.

“Can I help you?” Varian finally spits. His ire only seems to encourage the blond, who grins.

“I mean, it seems like I’m helping you,” Green-eyes says, idly pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. How he’s dealing with the heat of the day in that giant coat Varian would never guess, but that’s besides the point. Varian rocks his weight a bit, thinking, the mechanic’s bed under him shifting with the movement. Decided, he finally pushes himself up to his feet, noting with irritation that the blond is, in fact, at least a foot taller. Scowl setting deep on his face, Varian turns away and kicks at the mechanic’s bed roughly, sending it rolling back under the engine for safekeeping.

There’s a chattering noise of gears and steam, and Varian feels a weight land on his shoulder. He only just adapts to the heavy weight of copper, steel, and brass, before he feels his first creation clambering for his attention. Varian absently reaches up to pat at the metal body of his pet, scratching at a place between the exposed gears of Ruddiger’s ears that he knows the little automaton likes best. Ruddiger coos out a puff of steam, settling his weight onto Varian’s shoulders fully, the automaton having jumped from on top of the engine. Aperture eyes snap open and close with content, breaking the glowing green light of Ruddiger’s eyes for just a second as the raccoon-shaped automaton purrs.

The blond lets out a little huff of a laugh when he sees Varian and Ruddiger together, green eyes flicking between them. He gestures to his eyes, biting his lip. “Look at that,” he says, grinning. “You’re twins!”

Sure enough, when Varian peers into the polished brass sides of the engine, he can see that his eyes are ringed with grime and soot, giving him a distinctly raccoon look. Varian scowls at his reflection, turning back around with an angry gesture of the wrench in his hand.

“If you weren’t right about the engine—” Varian begins to threaten, but the blond cuts him off.

“But I was,” he says with a smarmy smile. “Right, I mean.”

Varian can feel his eye twitch.

“You’re rightly annoying,” he grumps, crossing his arms. Ruddiger makes an offended puff of steam at the movement, digging mechanical hands into the shoulder of Varian’s shirt a little tighter. Varian grits his teeth a little as tiny claws dig into his skin through the thin fabric.

The other boy holds his hands up in an innocent gesture, head cocking to the side. “I know what I’m doing, all right? Let me help fix the engine.” Green eyes glow with mirth as the boy looks down at the engine again. “Because, clearly, you seem to need it.”

Varian scowls, his hands clenching into fists, fingers digging into the leather of his gloves. The wrench in his hand is temptingly heavy, but Varian simply grits his teeth and ignores the plots for murder, taking a deep breath. Instead he reaches up and over the engine, using the wrench to try and tighten the bolt on the timing belt one last time. It creaks a little dangerously, but Varian knows it’ll hold. He designed it himself, after all.

Ruddiger keeps an eye on the blond behind Varian, making curious noises, a soft clicking sound that mixes well with the quiet ticking of his clockwork heart. Varian has to use two hands on the wrench to get the bolt tight, giving it a few violent tugs. The blond is watching him—Varian can feel eyes on the back of his neck—but Varian steadfastly ignores him, either out of focus or spite… or maybe both.

Work done, he finally turns back around to the blond, stepping forward with a threatening gesture of the wrench.

“Look,” Varian says, pointing the wrench an inch away from green eyes. “I don’t particularly care for your tone, so—”

“Varian!” a third voice calls, and Varian stills mid-rant. Both Varian and the irritating boy next to him turn, locking eyes with a young woman—a familiar woman. Her grin is a mile wide, bright as the sun and twice as warm. Her purple dress swirls around her ankles, cinched tight at the waist by a black corset, with billowing sleeves of white fabric. Her green eyes crinkle when she sees the two of them turn to her, scrunching up the spattering of freckles on her face and wrinkling her button nose. She’d look a proper lady, she certainly holds herself with the decorum expected of one, if not for the pixie cut she’d chopped her hair into. It’s stylish, with shorter sides and a longer top, nearly defying gravity in the way it fluffs up from her head into a windblown wave.

Varian notes, with quite a bit of amusement, that she’s holding onto a pair of flats in one hand. Barefoot again, then. Classic.

“Rapunzel,” Varian sighs, dropping the arm holding the wrench back down to his side. He can feel the embarrassment of being caught picking fights seizing him. He’s eighteen now, he really should know better, and Rapunzel is nothing if not determined to keep him on the straight and narrow.

“Who’s this?” Rapunzel says with interest, her eyes flicking between Varian and the other teenager. The taller boy seems to stiffen under her gaze, which is unsurprising. Rapunzel is notorious in these parts, and in the dockyard especially. Varian rubs at the back of his neck in the presence of his Captain, and can feel his cheeks burn red.

“He was just leaving—” Varian starts to say, turning away from her to glare at the blond, but Rapunzel cuts him off.

“Oh, did you make a friend?” she asks, coming closer and leaning on Varian’s shoulder. It’s infuriating the way she’s taller than he is, even after his growth spurt.

“Sure,” Varian says through grit teeth. “A friend. We’ll call him that.”

Rapunzel brightens at that, and Varian can already sense the trouble on the horizon. “And you are?”

The boy shrugs. “New.”

There’s a pause, but Rapunzel pushes forward. “Oh! How are you liking Corona, then?” she asks the blond, her grin a mile wide at the thought of Varian having friends. Varian’s not sure if he’s offended or not, really.

“Loving it,” the blond says. “The City of the Sun could never disappoint.”

Varian wants to roll his eyes, but Rapunzel leans further onto him, putting more of her weight onto his shoulder in a silent bid for him to behave himself. He goes along with it—she’s typically right in these sorts of situations.

“Glad to hear it,” Rapunzel grins. “What brings you to our fair city, anyways?”

“I’m here looking for work, actually,” the blond says quickly. “Just got back from a contracted expedition to Vardaros, so now I’m on the hunt for another engineering job.”

Rapunzel’s face brightens, and Varian grows concerned. He knows that she’s been contemplating hiring extra hands for their next expedition, seeing how important it is, but there’s no way she would actually—

“Well, you’re in luck!” Her face splits into a wide smile. “We’re actually looking for a junior engineer, and any friend of Varian’s is a friend of ours. We’d be glad to have you aboard, if you’re willing.”

Varian’s face must do something funny, since Rapunzel’s full weight is near crushing him now. He tries to catch her eye, but she’s ignoring him with a grin. Rapunzel knows exactly what she’s doing and Varian can’t help but feel the slight pulse of irritation sink into his gut. She’s planning something, he thinks, glaring at her as she steadfastly ignores his gaze. Only the Maker knows what goes on in that woman’s head, honestly.

“Well, can’t say no to that,” Varian’s new most-hated-person says.

By the Maker, what did Varian do to deserve this? Has he really been such a terrible person to deserve this kind of treatment from the universe? Honestly, you’d think he was a horrible murderer in a past life for the kind of penance he’s paying in this one.

“Perfect!” Rapunzel crows with a clap of her hands. “Varian can show you how to get back to the Aphelion—right, Varian?”

“Yes, Captain.” Varian grunts, idly wondering if he could brain himself with the wrench in his hand in such a way that would guarantee he wouldn’t survive. Rapunzel doesn’t seem to mind, finally letting up on Varian and gently pushing away from him with one last squeeze of his shoulder.

“Alright, you two,” she says, winking to Varian as she leaves. “Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing— I’ll see you both back at the ship! Play nice!”

Varian can’t help but feel like he’s been played.

If Varian had his way, he’d turn around and fire the blond here and now. Varian’s the head of the engineering section of the Aphelion— that’s got to count for something, right? In theory it should, but Varian knows that Rapunzel, as Captain, had final say in everything. If she wants to be a busy-body and force Varian to try and make friends, then by the Maker, it’s happening whether Varian likes it or not.

In this case? It is decidedly in the not category.

He turns to the blond, who looks back with a smug smile. Varian can feel his face scrunch up in distaste at it, and knows that the twitch in his eye is probably back with a vengeance. Ruddiger chirps with contentment on his shoulder, idly pawing at his hair in an attempt to calm his human down. It doesn’t work. Varian sighs, and finally sets the wrench down on a nearby table, jabbing a finger at the other teenager.

“I don’t like you,” is all he says. “But if Rapunzel says you’re in, then you’re in, I guess.”

That stupid fucking grin gets wider, and Varian wants to punch it.

“Who are you, then?” Varian asks, trying for more neutral territory. If they’re going to be stuck together for the next six months once the Aphelion takes flight, then he wants to at least try to work towards something non-hostile.

“Your new crewmate, obviously,” the blond shoots back, and Varian loses all sense of decorum at that point. There’s a beat of silence as Varian tries to reel his temper in, and another as he tries to relax his jaw enough to say something that won’t get him arrested.

“In that case, you should know that you’re speaking to your boss… mister junior engineer.”

The blond splutters, and Varian can’t help but give a little smirk of his own. Nothing better than reminding people of his position, the one he’d clawed for for years before Rapunzel finally gave in.

“Wait, what?” Varian’s new underling asks, going a shade paler.

“My name is Varian,” he says, the smirk growing larger and larger. He brings a hand up to the center of his chest, fingers splayed slightly. “Lead Engineer of the Aphelion, and your new boss. So, tell me, glasses.” Oh, this was so much fun. “Who are you?”

Green-eyes seems to know when he’s dug himself a hole he can’t climb out of, and for the first time there’s something other than an irritating smirk on his face. If anything, Varian would say he looks annoyed. The thought of finally managing to wipe that smirk off the blond’s face is delicious, and it does wonders for Varian’s mood. Varian sticks a hand out, much like Rapunzel had, and while the blond glares at it, he still takes Varian’s smaller hand in his own.

“Hugo,” the blond grits out, holding Varian’s hand maybe just a little too tight. It’s still worth it to see this boy squirmthough.

Varian waits, but the older boy—Hugo—says nothing else, and after a moment Varian draws his hand away. “Good talk.” That’s that, he supposes.

A pause, and then Varian shrugs and moves away, looking back to the engine. Screws in place, broken pipe replaced, timing belt bolted... it’s about as fixed as it can get. Varian reaches up and slams the top back down with a loud clang. Hugo jumps. Varian grins, and kneels down to lock the top back into place.

Ruddiger chitters in his ear, scolding; Varian shakes him off and straightens back to his feet, peeling off his gloves and shoving one hand back through his hair. Ugh, city sweat and oil. He can taste it. “Well,” Varian says, resigned. “Might as well make yourself useful, I guess. Help me push this back to the dockyard.” Hugo opens his mouth but Varian cuts him off. “And if I hear one more comment about my physical prowess—!” He pats the wrench twice with a sweet smile, the threat more than obvious.

Hugo closes his mouth. He’s grinning. By the Maker, even when he’s quiet, Varian can practically hear what Hugo wants to say anyway. This is already a disaster; what the hell is Rapunzel thinking?

He has a sudden and vivid flashback to her winking at him, and shudders without knowing why.

Ruddiger coos at him with a puff of steam. Varian tugs at Ruddiger’s ear in return, annoyed with the chiding—he knows how to play nice, thanks, why does no one have any faith in him?—and then walks to the shopkeeper, thus far ignored in the back of the workroom. “How much for the parts?”

He pays for the replacements and manages to haggle for a cart, and in a few minutes’ time he and Hugo have winched the engine down and rigged it up for transport. Varian braces himself against the cart handle and sighs. “Westside dock,” he tells Hugo, squinting sadly at the streets through the large double doors of the shop. It’s market day. The crowds are crazy. This is going to suck. “Pier 48.”

“You sure you know the way, goggles?”

“It’s ‘boss,’ actually,” Varian replies sweetly, and grins with all his teeth at the way Hugo winces. Hah. Varian could get used to this.

They exit the repair shop to a faceful of steam, and Varian coughs hard, waving the smoke from his face as he and Hugo shove their way into the crowd, the cart rattling loudly on the uneven cobble. Corona at midday is as bustling as ever, the city life in full swing. Whole families wander the streets as merchant carts and stores push out their wares; steam-powered bikes rocket past, their riders laughing high and bright. In the distance, Varian can hear the ever-present screech of the train whistles, the trails of steam drifting up from the stations. Above them, the sunlight warps and twists, broken apart by the furious rattle of passing trains and the railroad looping high above their heads in arches and spindly bridges.

Varian squints against the light and shades his face, elbowing Hugo hard to get his attention. The other boy looks almost lost in thought, staring up—his eyes tracking the trains as they pass, looking almost blinded by the sheer gleam of the city in motion. “We’re heading right,” Varian explains, raising his voice above the din, and waves his pocket watch at Hugo’s face, tapping the compass in the upper corner. “Come on.”

Hugo pulls his gaze away and follows, and together they push the cart through the streets, slowly but surely carving a path for the dockyard. When they finally break through the main crowd, Varian pushes them toward the side-streets, shadowy and empty and safe from wandering feet. If they hurry, he thinks, they might make it to the dockyard before the heat really sets in. He gives Ruddiger one last absent pat and starts to pick up the pace.

Hugo is slowing, though, trailing behind, and then for a brief moment he stops completely, hand slipping away from the cart. Varian yanks the cart to a stop, glancing back, ready to give the other a piece of his mind—but then he sees Hugo’s face. Varian follows his gaze, and closes his mouth. He understands now: in the break between the buildings he can see the whole upper half of Corona, the spires of the Sun’s temple and the curving arches of the bridges rising high over the city, shining bright and glossy in the sunlight. It’s designed to look like the sun crest, if seen from directly above—a tourist favorite.

“First time in the city?” Varian wonders, and when Hugo eyes him, just shrugs, Ruddiger chattering loudly on his shoulder. “You’re staring.”

“It’s bright,” Hugo says, dryly.

“And that would be why it’s called the city of the Sun.” Varian blows out a hard breath, trying to get sweat-soaked bangs out of his face. He plants his hands on the cart rail and starts pushing again. A moment’s pause, and then Hugo joins him. “But no, seriously, who are you? You’re already hired or whatever—” Damn Rapunzel for that, now Varian has to deal with this jerk for six months, “—but why are you even here?”

“Luck,” Hugo says, which is such an obvious lie Varian outright rolls his eyes at him. “Money. Look, goggles, I came here for a fresh start, so—” He gestures. “Let’s just not do the whole interrogation thing and say we did, okay?”

Varian presses his lips together, but lets it drop. As irritating as Hugo is—well. Varian understands fresh starts. And the money issue. If it was someone prying into his reasons, then…

“Fine, fine.” Varian says, and turns his head away, only just catching the way Hugo startles from the corner of his eye. He almost looks surprised, Varian thinks, but when he glances back again Hugo just looks as smug as ever, not even out of breath from pushing the cart. His hair is even still slicked perfectly back.

Maybe his imagination? Well, whatever; Varian hates it either way.

It’s not far to the docks, and Varian knows the path like the back of his hand; by the time the midday heat really starts sinking in (and Hugo, in that stupid leather coat, is noticeably starting to sweat—hah, serves him right), they’ve reached the edge of the city. It’s quieter here, the rumble of the crowd replaced with distant whistles and rhythmic banging, the symphony of a dockyard hard at work.

Varian heaves the cart to a rolling stop by the stairs, waving at Hugo to step back, and cups a hand around his mouth. “Xavier!” he shouts down at the shipyard, pitching his voice high. Ruddiger props up on his head and yawns, puffing steam like a smoke signal. “Send Cass up here, would you? I’ve got that engine part fixed!”

“Oh, wonderful!” Xavier waves back. “I’ll send her up— we’ll get it reinstalled right away! Grab Yong for me?”

“Where is he?”

“On the ship!”

“Got it!” Ruddiger crawls from his shoulder down into his arms; Varian cradles the racoon close—ouch, hot metal—and finally looks back to Hugo, humming. “Well, come on then.”

“Yong?” Hugo wonders aloud, as Varian makes his way for the ship. It’s in Pier 48 now, the main dock for repair work, which makes this a longer walk than usual. Damn pirates, punching holes in their ship— who did this Donella think she was? For someone with such a fearsome reputation, they’d gotten away pretty light…

“Xavier’s assistant,” Varian explains, clutching Ruddiger to his chest and hopping down the stairs two at a time. He hears a snicker, and whips around to glare. Hugo looks away, one hand covering his mouth. Varian narrows his eyes. “Xavier was that man down there, he runs the engines, and— would you stop laughing?”

“Sorry,” Hugo says, with a grin that says he isn’t sorry at all. “You were saying?”

“Okay, I’m not doing this.” Varian spins on his heel, ignoring him. “Come on, it’s just around the corner. She’s a little... battered right now, some hull damage, but we’re set to leave tomorrow— and I mean tomorrow— time is money with this next shipment, understand?”

Hugo smiles, leaning closer to Varian. “What’s so special about it?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. “Is it expensive?”

Expensive, one of a kind, irreplaceable—there’s a lot of words Varian could use for it. If the Aphelion’s last cargo had been valuable, this next shipment is near-priceless. “That’s on a need-to-know basis—” Varian says tartly, “—and until we’re in the air, you don’t need to know. Now, will you be ready?”

Hugo shrugs. “I’m ready to go now.”

Varian blinks at that, looking Hugo up and down. Even Ruddiger lifts his head from his nap to sniff a disbelieving puff of steam. No luggage, just the clothes on his back and the sword on his hip. “Um… you sure?”

Hugo’s smirk widens. “Aw. Worried for me, goggles?”

Ha-ha, nevermind. Varian pivots back around. “Nope.” He is not allowed to punch his new assistant. He is not allowed to punch his assistant. Rapunzel would be disappointed. There would be lectures. She would make charts. Not worth it. “Now, where is that ship—”

He ducks around the corner, stepping out of the way of horse and cart, and then, like the sun splitting the clouds: there she is.

Varian trails to a stop, annoyance already forgotten. He turns, for once wanting to see Hugo’s full reaction. If Hugo had blinked twice at the city, then… “Here we are,” Varian says, grinning now, pride bubbling warm in his chest. “The Aphelion!”

Hugo looks, mouth opening, and Varian can just see the rude comment he’s about to make—and then Varian really doesgrin, wide and bright and smug smug smug, because he can also see the moment Hugo loses all his words entirely.

Varian has always loved Corona, despite everything—the spiny skyline, the arching bridges, the whistling steam and winding roads curling up to the temple like a conch shell. Varian has lived in this air and breathed this city for all his life, and he loves it with all he is— but of all the places in the city, the dockyards, and the ships they harbor, are where his heart truly lies.

If the city is bright, then the dockyards are blinding. They sit on the very edge of the city limits, the cliff-face drop of the flying city. The copper paneling that makes up the dockyard decks has turned near solid-gold in the sunlight, and beyond that edge the whole world falls at their feet. Miles upon miles of dotted green farmland, blocks of gleaming metal towns, curving roads like man-made rivers. The horizon burns gold and blue, the distant silhouette of other flying cities dotting the landscape, poking out from distant clouds. None of the cities fly as high as Corona, of course—the cities of the Sun and Moon are meant to float above all the rest—but it still makes for quite the view. With other airships hanging in the sky, colorful backdrops against the full white clouds, the dockyards are most certainly a sight to behold.

But the jewel, Varian thinks with a smile, is his ship—Rapunzel’s ship—their home.

The Aphelion.

She’s a work of art, Varian knows, and she looks it, too. Aphelion is a whole three hundred feet of dark wood and solid brass, long and sleek and sharp as any blade. Her half-moon windows are stained glass and shining; decorative copper and silver wires wind down her front and all across her sides like trailing vines, or maybe wings, or maybe the unfurling edges of the sun. She’s got four sails and an envelope made of the best weave, the cloth of the balloon so thick it’s near impossible to cut, set to hold them afloat for nearly two decades even if the engines and the fires both die. A heavy copper turbine sits at her back; the sails, flapping loose in the breeze, are decorated in off-hand embroidery. She’s golden and shining in the sunlight—and it’s right, that Hugo goes dead silent at the sight of her, and Varian can’t help but grin. Because anyone who stops and stares at the Aphelion, anyone who goes breathless at their first glance… well, as annoying as Hugo is, he can’t be too bad, then. Not if he sees the Aphelion for the treasure she is.

She hadn’t always been this way, of course; she’d been a broken thing once, before Rapunzel found the shattered shell of a ship and coaxed life back into her. It’s Rapunzel’s way, after all, to find broken and trapped and hiding things, and bring them out to the light—but Rapunzel had asked Lance to do the tarp weave, and Varian had built the metalwork, and in the end, it was all of them, together, that brought the Aphelion to the skies, blinding and beautiful and larger than life.

Varian steps away and sets Ruddiger down on the cobble, still grinning wide and pleased at Hugo’s shock, and waves up to the small figures settled around on the Aphelion’s balcony. Rapunzel—standing at the helm with Eugene, Nuru, and Yong—looks over, and she leans over the railing to wave back. Her eyes draw to Hugo next, and even from this distance, Varian can see her smile.

Varian turns back to Hugo, radiating smugness. “Well?”

Hugo blinks fast and shakes his head. “Well,” he echoes. He shakes his head again, and then he gives a little laugh. “Well.”

“What do you think?” Varian presses, intent. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” And maybe Hugo catches something in that, maybe he can tell Varian really and truly wants an answer, because he looks at Varian, eye to eye, and then— he smiles.

Months later, this memory will stand out to Varian. Years later, Varian will look back on this day in the sun and finally recognize the moment for what it was. A beginning. And an end.

Their only warning.

It’s bright, the smile Hugo gives him. It’s blinding. But for some reason, something about it makes Varian falter. A chill runs down his spine. His mouth goes dry. Because there is something in that smile—in the curve of it, the sharpness of teeth—something about the way it creases at Hugo’s eyes. It unnerves him. It unsettles him. There is something about it that doesn’t sit quite right, and if Varian had known better, then, perhaps he could have read the smile for what it was.

But instead Varian looks away, feeling cold and not sure why, telling himself it is just the wind—and beside him, Hugo, his eyes fixed back on the ship—

Hugo smiles.

“Yes,” he says. “She’s perfect.”

#tangled the series #varian and the seven kingdoms #varigo #vat7k #hugo tangled #tangled varian #varian #hugo #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rapunzel #tts #rta #chapters #fic: cor meum

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nissanmaxima · 4 years ago

Text

Reiner, Bertholdt, Eren, Jean, Armin and the rest of their crew sailed their ship, Titans Wrench, into the deep dark areas of the island, Pelegosto. Once they reached a river, they unloaded on to a small boat and rowed their way into a dark, damp tunnel. The lights on the side of the tunnel were dim, but bright enough for them to see that these said lights were carried by people. Women, men and children with darker skin stared into their souls, but the crew kept pushing forward.

They reached a shack at the center of the mouth of the river. Hopping out Reiner had nothing to fear,

"No worries lads! (Y/N) go way back! Thick as thieves we were! Nigh inseparable we are!"

He corrected himself,

"Were..."

Again,

"Have been..."

And again,

"Before..."

Bertholdt placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll watch your back, cap'n."

"It's me front I'm worried about. Mind the boat."

Bertholdt nodded and looked back at Jean, sending the message, who then sent it to Eren, who then sent it to Connie, who then sent it to Ymir, who then sent it to Sasha. Ignoring them, she went back to eating whatever was in her hand.

Approaching the door of the shack, Reiner peaked through the window and saw all the trinkets hanging in jars coming from the ceiling, a snake lying on a branch and lit candles were placed anywhere they could. Reiner slowly pushed the door open. Said door creaked loudly, catching (Y/N)'s attention. A smirk grew on to her face,

"Reiner Braun!"

"(Y/N)!"

"I always knew the wind was going to blow you back to me one day!"

Her smile faded once she saw Eren however,

"You..."

She completely ignored Reiner and walked past him. Eren, who was looking at her trinkets, turned his attention towards her as she continued,

"You have a touch of... Destiny about you... Eren Jaeger..."

"You know me?"

Reiner scowled as (Y/N) leaned in closer,

"You want to know me...?"

Reiner quickly ran in between the two of them before anything could happen,

"They'll be no knowing here, we've come for help and we're not leaving without it!"

Taking her away, Reiner spoke low,

"I thought I knew you..."

"Not so well as I had hoped. Come!"

Leading everyone to her work desk, she ushered them to either sit or stand, depending on where they were. She ran her fingers along Eren's face and asked,

"What service may do you...?"

Her coy smile immediately dropped and looked at Reiner,

"You know I demand payment!"

"I brought payment!"

He whistled at his crew and Connie brought forward a cage with a covering on it. Reiner smirked and removed the covering to reveal a monkey! He pulled out his gun and exclaimed,

"Look!"

He shot at it and the monkey screamed, clinging to the wall of the cage,

"An undead monkey! Top that!"

Placing the cage down, (Y/N) opened the cage and let the monkey free,

"N-no!"

The monkey ran to a back room where only the boots of another person could be seen. Bertholdt sighed,

"You've no idea how long it took us to catch that..."

"The payment is fair,"

Eren pulled out a drawing of a key. This wasn't a normal key, no. It had 2 parts and the 2 bottoms of it stuck in the opposite direction of one another,

"We're looking for this-"

(Y/N) stared down the intricate drawing of the key,

"-and what it goes to..."

(Y/N) took her attention back to Reiner,

"The compass you bartered from me, it cannot lead you to this?"

"Maybe... Why?"

(Y/N) smiled

"I hear you... Reiner Braun does not know what he wants..."

Everyone looked to their captain as she continues,

"Or... Do you know? But a loath to claim it as your own."

She sat back in her chair,

"Your key go to a chest-"

She got comfortable,

"And it is what lay inside the chest you seek... Don't it?"

Bertholdt perked up,

"What is inside?"

Connie grew curious as well,

"Gold? Jewels? Unclaimed properties of a valuable nature?"

Admin looked to the side to see a jar of eyeballs,

"Nothing... Bad I hope..."

(Y/N) leaned forward,

"You know of Davy Jones? Yes?"

They all nodded,

"A man of the sea... A great sailor... Until, he run afoul of that which vex all men..."

Eren smiled and got closer,

"What vexes all men?"

(Y/N) smiled and placed her hand on top of his,

"What indeed?"

Bertholdt, thinking he got it, spoke aloud,

"The sea?"

Then Connie,

"Sums!"

And finally Armin,

"The Dichotomy of Good and Evil..."

The other 2 men looked at Armin with confusion before Reiner rolled his eyes,

"A woman!"

(Y/N) smiled a spoke again,

"A woman! He fell in love,"

Bertholdt countered her statement,

"No, no, no I heard it was the sea he fell in love with,"

She glared at Bertholdt,

"Same story, difficult versions and all are true! See it was a woman, as changing and harsh, and untamable as the sea-"

She giggled,

"Him never stop loving her... But the pain it caused him was too much to live with... But not enough to cause him to die,"

Eren, more uncomfortable than before, asked a simple but very important question,

"What exactly did he put into the chest?"

An innocent look was on the voodoo priestess' face before she placed both hands on her chest and smiled,

"Him heart!"

Armin grew nervous,

"Literally or figuratively?"

Jean fussed at Armin,

"He couldn't literally put his heart in a chest!"

His anger soon turned into curiosity as he looked at the brown skinned woman,

"Could he...?"

She turned to the 3 men and threw her hands back, acting as if there wasn't a care in the world,

"It was not worth feeling what, small fleeting joy life brings-"

All of the pirates eyes widened as she continued,

"-and so... Him carve out him heart... Lock it away in a chest... And hide the chest from the world,"

She gestured back to the drawing of the key,

"The key? He keep with him at ALL times..."

Eren stood up and glared at Reiner,

"You knew this!"

"I did not, I didn't know where the key was. But now we do, so all that's left is to climb aboard the Flying Dutchman, grab the key, you go back to Port Royal and save your Bonnie Lass hey!"

Reiner and his crew were about to leave before (Y/N) stood up, holding her hand out,

"Let me see your hand,"

Reiner, looking around, gave her his right hand. An intimidating look grew on her face before Reiner gave in and gave her his other hand. She gently unwrapped the dirty bandage on the captain's hand. Finally removing said bandage, Bertholdt gasped at the sight of the bubonic plague-like lesion growing on the palm of a Reiner's hand.

"The Black Spot!"

Bertholdt his shirt pockets five times, spun around one time counterclockwise on the spot and spat on the ground. His movements were quickly copied by Armin, Connie and Jean before Reiner grew annoyed,

"My eyesight is good as ever just so you know..."

(Y/N) walked into the back of her little home and the sound of items clashing, breaking and tumbling could be heard from the front. The men looked as close as they could, but they could only see the monkey whining at the feet protruding from the back room. Soon, she came back with a jar,

"Davy Jones cannot make port. Cannot step on land but once every 10 years."

Reiner's eyebrows furrowed together before getting a good look at the jar as she continues,

"Land is where you are safe, Reiner Braun, and so you will carry land with you,"

Carefully taking the jar, he examined further before talking again,

"Dirt."

He paused before continuing,

"This a jar of dirt,"

She nodded,

"Yes?"

Reiner smiled, as if questioning her sanity,

"Is the... Jar of dirt going to help?"

"If you don't want it, give it back."

Reiner hugged the jar,

"No!"

(Y/N) smiled,

"Then it helps!"

Eren, spoke up,

"It seems... We have a need to find the Flying Dutchman..."

The priestess smirked before slowly sitting and gathering what looked like junk from her desk and shook it in her hands before exclaiming,

"A touch... Of Destiny!"

———————————————————

Somehow, Eren had found himself kidnapped by Davy Jones' crewmen and held with the rest of a shipwreck crew. A hard blow to the head knocked him out, leaving dry blood to stick to his forehead. He sighed before hearing hard footsteps. Looking to his left, he had to take a second look to understand who, or what rather, he was looking at,

A man with a distinct form, his' head was replaced with something resembling an Octopus, a "beard" of forty-six tentacles hanging from his mottled, green-skinned face, a prominent sac bulged from the back of his head, which was nestled underneath a hat covered with barnacles. A siphon was seen on the left side of his face, making up for his lack of a human nose, he had a crustacean-style claw for his left arm and a long tentacle-like index finger on his right hand. His right leg resembled that of a crab, which in turn resembled a peg leg, which gave him an awkward gait, or walk.

He watched the abomination walk up to another aquatic humanoid

"Five men still alive, the rest have moved on,"

Jones' kept walking until he saw a sailor bloodied and bruised, shaking and in pain. He leaned down, putting a tobacco pipe in his mouth and lighting it with one of his tentacles. Inhaling the toxic gas, he blew the smoke in the sailor's face as he spoke,

"Do you fear death?"

The sailor nodded vigorously,

"Do you fear that dark abyss? All your deeds lay bare? All your sins punished? I can offer you... An escape..."

Another sailor interrupted him,

"Don't listen to him!"

Looking to find the voice, he noticed the necklace he was holding, with the centerpiece being the cross. He shook as well, making the cross bounce with him. Jones' stood up and walked over to the sailor. He grabbed him by the throat with his crab like hand,

"Do you not... Fear death?"

The sailor stumbled on his words before inhaling and exhaling,

"I'll take my chances, sir,"

Jones let go and looked at one of his crewmen standing behind the sailor,

"To the depths,"

The crewman nodded and lifted the sailors head. Placing the barnacle stained knife on the sailors neck, he slashed through it, letting the blood splatter out before him and another crewman tossed him overboard. Jones' walked over to the sailor from before. Another sailor spoke up through gritted teeth,

"Cruel blaggard!"

Jones turned around,

"Life is cruel-"

He knocked the pipe onto his hard crab like hand, emptying it of its dirt and grime,

"-why should the afterlife be any different?"

He looked back to the bloody sailor,

"I offer you a choice! Join my crew, and postpone the judgment! 100 years before the mast... Will ye serve?"

The sailor stuttered,

"I-I will serve!"

"T-T-There!"

Eren internally rolled his eyes. What had Reiner gotten him into this time?

———————————————————-

Foot Note: TOTALLY DIFFERENT TIME

Sitting in the brig of the dirty ship, a lullaby played from the locket she had in her hand. She sang with it,

"Cruel and cold like winds and the sea

Will you ever return to me?

Hear my voice, sing with the tide

My love will never die"

(Y/N) closed the locket and ceased her singing, clutching the locket to her chest, she sighed. All was quiet until she heard another locket from the outside of the brig, it played the same tune but differently. She stood up and walked to the bars and clutched them. She immediately knew who it was,

"My sweet..."

Footsteps walked in her direction,

"You come for me!"

The footsteps belonged to a male,

"You were expecting me?"

"It has been torture... Trapped in this... Single form! Cut off from the sea... From all that I love... From you..."

The male voice grew stronger and more aggressive,

"10 years I devoted to the duty you charged to me-"

Her smile dropped,

"10 years I looked after those who died at sea-"

She looked down, turning her attention to the floor of the ship,

"And finally, when we could be together again, you weren't there,"

He shut the locket with force as he spoke to her with gritted teeth,

"Why. Weren't. You. There?"

(Y/N) looked up at him and a small smile formed on her face before shaking her head,

"It's my nature,"

He flinched before letting her continue,

"Would you love me, if I was anything but what I am?"

The man snarled before walking away from her, still close to the bars of the cell,

"I do not... Love you,"

She slowly followed behind him before speaking cautiously,

"Many thing you were Davy Jones, but never cruel, you have corrupted your purpose..."

She looked him up and down before continuing,

"And so yourself... And you did hide away, what should always have been mine-"

She snuck her hand through the bars and placed them on his stomach. He gasped as his appearance went back to his true and former self. He had black hair, blueish grey eyes, bags underneath them. He had pale skin and regular hands, his feet were back to normal, no peg leg, just boots, his sword was clean, no barnacles, no slime, no dirt and grime. His eyebrows furrowed as tears filled his eyes, but wouldn't dare let them spill over. He breathed out her true name as he touched her cheek through the bars,

"Calypso..."

She leaned into his touch and smiled before returning back to a serious look,

"I will be free. And when I am, I will give you my heart. And we would be together always..."

But, she took her hand away from his face and his appearance went back to his cursed horrendous form from before,

"If only you had a heart to give..."

His expression turned to anger as his crab like hand was stuck on her side of the gate. He reach out and wrapped the claw around her throat. She gasped and asked him with a shaky voice,

"Why did you come?"

He thought about it. Why did he come? Did he come to free her? No. She'd then know who really betrayed her. Had he come to tell her what he truly felt? No. He's never let that side of him show, she forced it out of him. He stared at her before truly remembering why he came to see her. To kill her. To get rid of her once and for all and never hold the guilt from betraying her ever again.

Coming back to reality, he let go of her neck and tried to pull his claw like hand from her side of the bars. Seeming impossible, he sighed. She looked at him before remembering what he could really do. She watched as he walked through the prison bars and looked down at her,

"And what fate have you planned, for your captors?"

"The brethren court?!"

She walked past him and to the front of the prison, gripping the bars with force,

"The last thing they will learn in this life, is how CRUEL I can be,"

He sighed once she finished. Before he could vanish, she asked him something,

"And what of your fate?"

She paused,

"Levi Ackerman?"

He looked back at her,

"My heart will always belong to you..."

She watched him disappear into the ship. She turned around and hugged the bars with a smile on her face...

——-

Hi yeah it’s been a while I’m sorry I’ve been super stressed out but I’m back with a crossover I’ve been dying to do

#poc reader #black women #levi ackerman #pirates of the caribbean #davy jones #calypso #levi ackerman oneshot #africanamericanreader

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whumphoarder · 5 years ago

Text

¿Cómo se dice ‘I’m in Deep Sh*t’?

Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances (and a bit of procrastination), Peter runs out of time to prepare for his Spanish presentation and ends up faking sick to buy himself some more.

He just wasn’t really counting on Tony being the one to pick him up from school.

Word count: 2,997

Genre: humor, fluff, whump

Link to read on Ao3

A/N: Based on a prompt from @coconutknightshade!

Apparently it takes a village to write a story lol—thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx, @sallyidss, @fandomsficsandfeels, & @seek-rest for beta-reading and ideas, and @lunannex for Spanish help!

“What if I just like… fake my death?” Peter suggests as he hands his mentor a different sized wrench. “They can’t mark me down for not doing it if I’m dead, right?”

Tony, who is currently bent over their latest project (replacing the timing belt in May’s car), snorts. “As someone who’s been officially presumed dead more than once, can’t say I recommend it. Way too much paperwork.”

Peter sighs. “Can we stage a kidnapping then?” he says hopefully. “Or an alien abduction?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s a four-minute speech, not the end of the world—though I have some experience with that too.” He holds out a hand. “Half inch ratchet.”

“A four-minute speech in Spanish,” Peter emphasizes, passing him the requested tool. “Which is a language I don’t speak.”

“Hence why you’re in Spanish class,” Tony counters. “With all the other kids who can’t speak Spanish.”

“But it’s also like ten percent of my grade,” Peter goes on as his mentor loosens the timing belt and removes it from the engine before handing it to Peter to set aside. “And I have to talk about what I do in a typical week, and it’s not like I can say I go patrolling or come over to the compound, so I’m gonna have to make stuff up—”

Tony interrupts, “Yo veo mucha televisión,” he says sagely.

“—and then what if I get up there and forget everything and just sound stupid?” Peter continues his rant. He groans and passes Tony the replacement belt. “Maybe I should just conveniently get the flu on Wednesday.”

Looking up from the engine, Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you really this stressed about it? Because if you need to focus on school, I could just finish this up myself.”

Peter sighs again and runs a hand through his hair—he hadn’t meant to complain this much, he’d just kind of gotten on a roll after Tony asked him how school was going. “No, no… I wanted to come over—really. And I’ve got three more days to work on it, it’s just like… ugh. I should have taken German instead.”

Tony huffs out a short laugh. “Pretty sure they have to speak in German class too.”

“Yeah but MJ’s not in German…” Peter mutters under his breath.

“What was that?” Tony asks, elbow deep in the engine block.

Peter expels a breath. “Nothing, it’s fine,” he says a bit more audibly, trying to convince himself as much as his mentor. So what if the most observant and shrewd person in his year also happens to be in his Spanish class?

(And so what if he might have a bit of a crush on her?)

Tony chuckles. “You’ll do great, kid,” he assures. “Just make sure you practice.”

Peter forces a smile. “Right, yeah, of course.”

Practicing, however, turns out to be easier said than done.

With finals fast approaching, it’s crunch time for all of Peter’s classes. Whatever spare moments he has over the weekend are spent finishing up his Animal Farm essay for the English summative and cramming for his geometry test Monday morning. The upcoming Spanish presentation hangs over his head, but it’s more annoying than anything else. He figures it should be fairly simple to actually bullshit something and translate it if he just sits down and does it (which, ironically, somehow makes it easier to push off).

He’s intending to work on it Monday evening, but a winter storm hits that afternoon, dumping eight inches of snow and ice on the city. Peter spends most of his patrol assisting with minor traffic accidents and helping stranded motorists scrape ice from their vehicles or shovel cars out of parking spaces. By the time he gets home late that night, he’s too exhausted to do much more than sit on the couch with May and drink cocoa while she watches Grey’s Anatomy reruns.

Oh well. He’s still got time.

Peter tries to make good use of his study hall on Tuesday, but the period ends up being kind of a wash. He spends half the time attempting to come up with something to say that is both interesting enough to make him seem not totally lame while still believable enough to fool MJ, and the other half messing around on his phone and trying to recall the name of the annoying song stuck in his head.

(It was ‘Goodbye’ by The Spice Girls.)

He’s intending to finish the presentation Tuesday evening after he gets home, but then Ned throws an unexpected monkey wrench into his plans just before the final bell rings.

“So I gotta be there early for warm ups, but my mom will pick you up around six, okay?” he tells Peter as they pack up their book bags.

Peter frowns, confused. “...Pick me up?”

Ned tilts his head. “Unless May can give you a ride after all? But I thought you said she was working tonight, right?”

All of a sudden it clicks—tonight is Ned’s first band concert. He’d taken up percussion a few months back in an effort to beef up his extracurriculars for his college applications. Peter agreed to go to the performance weeks ago.

“Oh right right right,” Peter quickly covers. “Six is great. I’ll see her then!”

Ned beams. “Awesome! My sister and her boyfriend are coming too, so we might go out to celebrate afterwards!”

“Yeah, awesome!” Peter agrees, forcing a grin. “That should be really fun.”

(Oh yeah, he’s screwed.)

The concert was cool. Ned hit that triangle with all the required enthusiasm whenever his parts came up, and Peter flashed him loads of encouraging thumbs-ups from the audience. When it was over, they all went out to Denny’s for some mediocre late-night pancakes and the usual Leeds family banter. All in all, a pretty fun night.

When Peter gets home a little after ten, he opens his Spanish doc in one tab and promptly falls into a YouTube hole in another while looking for background music. He’s still grinning when he closes out of his fifth vine compilation video in a row until he checks the time a second later and the grin dissolves. It’s 12:03 a.m.

Oops.

Study hall Wednesday morning will be his saving grace, he’s sure.

So, of course, a fight has to break out right outside of the library.

It’s not too bad—the two instigating students are hauled away by security with a couple bloody noses and black eyes, and a few other kids are taken down to the office for questioning. Peter was far enough removed from the action that he doesn’t have to come along, but the whole debacle eats up all but the last ten minutes of the period so when the bell finally rings, he’s got precisely five words written down:

Hola, me llamo Peter Parker.

(Suddenly all those jokes about faking his own death are starting to sound a lot more appealing.)

Or if not my death, he thinks as he trudges down the hall in the direction of his Spanish classroom, cold dread pooling in his gut, then at least…

He stops walking, glancing sideways into the brightly lit office just off the hall. The elderly nurse is sitting at her desk, glasses half-way down her nose as she reads a paperback novel with the picture of a Christmasy log cabin on the cover.

No. He can’t. He doesn’t lie.

...Unless…

No. May’s at work. She’d have to leave early to come and pick him up.

Okay, but it’s not like you do this often, his brain counters. Hell, you came to school with a concussion and two cracked ribs last month and didn’t say a word about it. May can take one for the team just this once.

Peter slips into the bathroom across the hall and waits there until the bell rings to signal the end of passing period, and then an additional five minutes on top of that to add some credibility to his act. He splashes a bit of cold water on his forehead and around his neck, and then works himself up with some heavy breathing before exiting the bathroom.

Folding his arms over his stomach, Peter moves shakily across the hall back toward the nurse’s office, making an effort to look as unwell as possible. A passing student eyes him suspiciously and gives him a wide berth, so he figures he must be doing something right.

Steeling himself with a shuddery breath, he steps into the office.

“Hall pass?” the nurse asks without looking up from her book.

“Um, no, I don’t have one, uh…” Peter’s heart is fluttering in his chest. “I just… I’m not feeling good.”

Eyes still on the page, the nurse silently taps a finger to a sign on the wall just behind her desk which reads: PASSES REQUIRED FOR ALL STUDENTS.

Peter swallows hard. C’mon, Parker—commit. “Right, but, uh, I came from the bathroom.” He hugs himself a little tighter and looks down. “My stomach really hurts. I was throwing up and, uh… stuff,” he concludes, deciding that in this case, less is more.

The nurse’s expression softens. She lowers her novel and gets to her feet with a small sigh. “Well, there is a bug going around,” she concedes, gesturing for him to sit down on the cot in the back of her office.

Peter keeps his responses vague when she requests more specific information on his symptoms, mostly offering shrugs or short, mumbled answers. She checks his temperature and seems slightly suspicious at his lack of fever, but he makes up for it by getting up suddenly and darting into the nurse’s bathroom.

When he emerges—exactly seven minutes and two new levels of Candy Crush later—Peter makes sure to keep his eyes averted from the nurse’s gaze and his movements slow and a little unsteady, one hand hovering over his stomach. She gives him a bottle of Gatorade and a couple of crackers and tells him to lie down until May comes to pick him up.

“I got ahold of her,” the nurse informs, sounding more sympathetic now. She slides a small garbage bin beside the cot. “She says she’s just finishing something up at work and then she’ll be right over.”

“Thank you,” Peter mutters tiredly. He doesn’t even have to act for that part—between the stress of his upcoming finals and his last couple of late nights, he really is exhausted and he has a bit of a headache. It makes him feel just the slightest bit better about pulling May away from her shift that there’s at least something physically wrong with him, even if it isn’t what he’s claiming.

Under the thin fleece blanket the nurse gives him, Peter manages to drift off to sleep.

But it turns out, today is just really not his day.

“No fever yet, but sometimes with these kinds of bugs that doesn’t come until later,” Peter overhears the nurse explaining in a low voice. He’s lying curled up on the cot, face toward the wall. “If that happens, just remember that he needs to be fever-free for 24 hours before returning to school.”

“Oh, I have a feeling that won’t be a problem,” a familiar voice that definitely does not belong to Aunt May replies.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s eyes snap open fully and he sits up in a hurry.

Tony and the nurse are standing together beside her desk, chatting quietly. Tony turns to look at Peter, face straight but eyebrows raised in amusement. “Oh would you look at that—he lives,” he remarks. “Feeling any better, Pete?”

Immediately, Peter wraps an arm around his stomach and does his best to look ill. “Uh, no, not really... but, um wh-what are you doing here?”

“The hospital is a little short-staffed today and your aunt was having trouble finding someone to cover her shift,” Tony explains, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. “She called to ask if I minded picking you up. You know”—his eyes narrow—“since you’re so sick.”

(Peter gulps. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he’ll be sick after all.)

“So of course, I told her I would,” Tony goes on. “I mean, if you’re feeling this bad, we could hardly just leave you here...”

Peter has to force himself to meet Tony’s gaze. “Right. Um, thank you. That’s super nice of you.”

“Well, you know me, Tony Super-Nice Stark,” his mentor says with a small chuckle as he steps closer to the bed.

“Now, with stomach bugs, the biggest concern is going to be dehydration,” the nurse continues. “So you’re going to want to push fluids, especially if he’s having di—”

“Fluids, got it,” Peter cuts her off, feeling his cheeks heat up. He gets to his feet and starts moving toward the door, but Tony halts him by grabbing his arm.

“Hey, hey, slow down, kid,” Tony tuts at him. “You were just looking like you might pass out a minute ago.” He presses his palm to Peter’s forehead and glances over to the nurse, eyebrows pinched together in the semblance of concern. “He’s kinda flushed, right? Maybe we should check his temperature again.”

“It’s fine,” Peter mutters, barely managing to suppress an eye-roll. “I think I just need to go home and sleep.”

“Sleep is probably the best thing for him,” the nurse agrees, nodding. “But going back to dehydration, if at any point it’s been more than five hours since he’s last urinated—”

“Mr. Stark, c’mon…” Peter whines quietly, nudging the man toward the door.

Tony holds up a finger to shush him—there’s a twinkle in his eyes that’s honestly driving Peter mad. “Hang on, kiddo. This is all very important information. In fact”—he pulls out his phone and opens the notes app—“let me just write this down. So you said if he hasn’t peed in five hours…?”

The nurse goes on to happily share her wealth of knowledge regarding stomach viruses with his mentor. Tony nods along to her advice, looking genuinely interested the entire time, occasionally interrupting to ask pertinent questions. Meanwhile, Peter just stands there, quietly dying a little inside.

Finally, she concludes her little spiel and Tony thanks her politely, then asks, “You wouldn’t happen to have a bin or bag or something we could take with us, would you? I just got the car detailed recently—hate for that to go to waste.”

Peter lets out another low groan. “Mr. Stark…”

“Ah, I have just the thing!” the nurse says. She bustles over behind her desk and produces a plastic sand pail with assorted Paw Patrol characters on it. “I get these from the dollar store,” she informs. “They don’t look like they hold too much but you’d be surprised!”

Tony grins. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much, Alice.” Looking to Peter, he asks, “Need the bathroom before we leave?”

Rolling his eyes at his mentor, Peter takes the bucket from the nurse with a muttered “thanks” and strides directly out the door.

Tony doesn’t say anything for the entire walk to the car, but Peter’s mind is happy to fill the silence with dread and anxious thoughts as he imagines all the various ways his mentor might chew him out about this. Stupid Spanish presentation—he should have just winged it after all.

The moment that both he and Tony are seated in the vehicle and the car doors are shut behind them, Peter sets the bucket down on the floor and covers his face with a groan.

“Alright, let’s get it over with,” he mutters into his hands. “Lay it on me.”

“Just to clarify,” Tony begins, sounding a bit more serious. “You’re not actually sick, right? This was just to get out of your presentation?”

“Yeah, I dunno...” Peter admits, feeling defeated. “I was planning to work on it—I swear. Just, well, there was all this stuff due for my other classes, and then the snowstorm, and all these commitments just kept coming up, and I just kinda... ran out of time. Figured if I got sent home I could buy myself an extra day or two.” He sighs deeply, lowering his hands to look up at his mentor. “Are you gonna tell May?”

Tony huffs out a short laugh. “Honestly? I think you’ve suffered enough.”

Peter blinks at him, surprised. “Wait, seriously?”

“You listened to a school nurse describe the BRAT diet for three whole minutes,” Tony says with a snort. “I don’t think any lecture May or I could give would top that.”

“God,” Peter groans, running a hand over his face. “If I hear the word ‘binding’ used one more time…”

“But,” Tony says, holding up a stern finger as he starts the car. “As soon as we get back to your place, we’re finishing up that presentation in time for your miraculous recovery tomorrow, got it?”

“We?” Peter raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you even speak Spanish?”

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “I know French and Italian—close enough. More importantly, I am fluent in the language of bullshit, kid. I once convinced an entire board of investors that not adding a clock feature to the new Starkphone prototype was a philosophical statement about the ‘futility of time as a construct’ rather than an embarrassing oversight caused by deadline crunches, no sleep, and more caffeine flowing through my veins than red blood cells.”

“And how did that go?” Peter asks.

“Sold twelve thousand shares that day. And I got to meet the Dalai Lama.”

Peter just snorts.

“Oh, and there was this other time,” Tony goes on wryly, “when I helped my intern play hooky to get out of a school presentation by convincing the nurse he had the shits.”

Peter leans back against the seat with a heavy sigh. “I’m never doing this again, Mr. Stark,” he mumbles.

Link to all my fics

If you enjoyed this story, you might also like:

Karmaitis

Give the Kid an Oscar

You Broke Tony

#faking sick #sick peter parker #peter parker is a little shit #irondad fic irondad #sick at school #tony stark is a little shit #stomach bug #school nurse #the science in my fics be like

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helipackjack · 5 years ago

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You know what, I want a story where Jack like actively becomes a better person. Like I see a lot of him joining the monks but not really changing. I think it'd be interesting if they showed him becoming a better person due to the monks influence or due to a situation he's in causing him to change how he views the world. Like could you imagine a fanfic where the plot is Omi getting captured by some ancient evil and Jack going with the monks to rescue him all on his own despite their protests.

Heck yeah. There's this story I kinda gave up on, so I might as well tell it here. I guess this also counts as an answer to @hanaxsongs ask that was sent to me a long time ago.

Eventually, Jack just kinda loses hope for his plans, cause seriously, after getting beaten down again and again you can't keep up, no matter how persistent you are. And let's face it, deep down, his plans for world domination were really just a fantasy he played as a game to distract himself from his troubles, he just kept convincing himself that this was real and he could pull it off. If he never freed Wuya, he probably would have kept this up for a while longer before coming to his senses about this game he was playing with himself and stopped it. By season 3, he's basically given up, but just kept telling himself otherwise. By that point, he just wanted to be useful in any way possible and keep playing this "game" with the monks and the others.

So yeah, eventually he decides to give up for real, kinda like in the beginning of Sunbird's "Monkey Wrench!" fanfiction, which is btw, the best Jack fic I've ever read, but it's still ongoing. And he's realized by now that Chase will never take him, and that he's a manipulative prick anyway, but it still hurts.

Later, the monks come to his house to see if he's plotting something, upon finding out that Jack's apparently given up, the monks are happy but sceptical. Since he's by now learned from past betrayals, Omi from time to time goes to spy and check if Jack has a secret evil plan going, but also in the hopes that this is really it and that Jack will become a better person. Eventually Omi pays a formal visit to Jack under the excuse that he just came for the ice cream that was promised to him all those years ago. Jack accepts and since then, Omi sometimes comes over to "hang off". This time around, Omi is a lot more subtle and less insistent in trying to get Jack to turn good since he's learned by now that trying to get him to consciously try something will result in him bailing out due to his low self-esteem and fear of failure. Jack is aware that Omi is probably trying to get him to join the side of good and immediately clearly states to him that he isn't ever joining the Xiaolin side, and Omi accepts his answer and says that he still wants to come over. Jack is convinced that Omi is only doing this in hopes that he'll miraculously change his mind, and pretends to be annoyed by him, when he's actually glad to have any form of company in his desolate house, while Omi continues to subtly influence Jack to become a better person, and before they knew it, they had a sort of friendship going on.

However, as Jack slowly gets better with his issues, his potential awakens and it's revealed that he's the dragon of metal. This only causes Jack to panic. Just when he had given up from the conflict altogether, it turns out to be his destiny. Omi is surprised, but happy, until he realises that this revelation has caused Jack to relapse and get into a fight with Omi because "You knew about this, didn't you? That's why you're trying to get me to join you, right?!"

Omi insists that he didn't know and wanted him to be better because he truly had faith in him, but Jack is too unstable to think clearly anymore, so Omi leaves Jack to think about things since there's no use talking to him when he's so worked up, but not before Jack made him promise not to tell anyone.

Due to relapsing, Jack's powers became connected to his emotions, so there's metal stuff exploding and flying everywhere if he gets too emotional, so it became too dangerous to be in his lab which is almost all metal, and on really bad days, he can't even be inside the house.

When Omi comes back to talk to him again he's more miserable than ever, but calmer, so they have a little more rational talk. They decide that Omi will teach him how to control his element "Just so I don't get impaled by a screwdriver", and train him, but still won't tell anyone, at least until the time comes when he is needed and has to accept his destiny. Due to having an emotional attachment and friendship with Omi by now and not wanting to disappoint him, and also having quit evil a while ago anyway, Jack actually manages to get himself to not bail out, at least, when he does relapse Omi gets him to come to his senses, or sometimes he even stops himself. Throughout the whole thing he grows as a person, but his inner demons will haunt him till very late into the story.

There's a lot more angst and rough patches and character development in between all this but that's the gist of it. There's also a lot of my headcanons on how new dragons are chosen but I won't get into that now, maybe later in a separate ask after I've drawn it. Like I said, I've kinda given up on writing/drawing this, but I'll gladly draw or explain any individual elements, scenes and quotes as I still have it all mapped out.

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bapyess1r · 5 years ago

Text

Amphetamine

WARNINGS: cursing, age difference, fluff, angst

CHAPTER 9

Talia’s POV

“Tali… look at me.” He said as I spun around in the passenger seat of his boat. I avoided his gaze when he approached me. He stood between my legs and cupped my face with his large hands. “Baby, I-”

“I know… And I understand…. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.” I replied. I stared at the water a while before getting the courage to look him in the eyes. They shone rather brightly from the sun. He shot me a smile so handsome it made my heart wrench.

“You have so much here to keep yourself busy until I get back. You have the band at your disposal, you have classes to teach, you’ll have the keys to the house so you can use the punching bag in the backyard if you ever want to hit something…” he began to list all of the things to keep me busy and I took a deep breath to keep myself from crying. “I’ll be back before you know it. It’ll be like I never even left.” He said. I sighed, resting my hands on his wrists as he pulled my head to his.

“How long is this one?” I asked, nonchalantly.

“Two weeks at best. And if anything changes, you’ll be the first to know. Okay, sweetheart?” He said slowly, kissing my lips and then my temple. “Now let’s enjoy the rest of the day, hm?”

I remembered that day. Sam had gotten a call from his pal Chloe. I never met her but I remembered her from his stories. They were on a job in India. He agreed to do some recon and be her decoy for her in her search for Ganesh’s Tusk. When he told me about it, I couldn’t even imagine how a journey like that would go. I figured it had to be the most adrenaline fueling thing. I couldn’t wait until Sam would tell me I was ready to accompany him but I also didn’t want to die so I would stay behind and train my hardest until that day.

I had woken up earlier than usual. It was 7:00 am. We would usually jog around this time. The sun had barely come up yet so I put on my jogging gear and threw my hair up in a ponytail. I readied my iPod for running music when I noticed my Godfather sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away at his laptop. He smiled at me and I approached him with a hand on his shoulder. “You’re up early, Goddaughter.” He said placing his warm hand over mine.

“Usually am. Sam and I go running around this time. Just because he’s gone that doesn’t stop me.” I said with a slight frown, patting his shoulder. I leaned on the side of the table as we continued to chat.

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately.” He said, continuing to write his report. I hadn’t really told my Godparents I had been seeing Sam in the romantic way. Not that I didn’t want to, it just never crossed my mind to tell when things got serious.

“Uh… yeah.” Was all I could muster.

“I hope he’s treating you right.” He said suddenly, surprising me. “I’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

“You knew?” I laughed nervously.

“I’m on the force for a reason, Talia Alyssa. Just like I know you’re trying to train to go with him on his next job.” He told me, his eyes never leaving the screen. “I can’t say I’m too happy about it.”

“Well it’s not for you to decide. Matter of fact, I don’t think it’s any of your business-” I mumbled, fidgeting with the tangled earbuds in my hands.

“So what do you expect me to tell Dave and Delores if anything happens to you?” He said, glancing at me a moment. I flinched at the mention of my parents. “‘Oh uh hey Dave, your daughter- my Goddaughter is out traipsing the globe with an ex-convict, want me to tell her to send you a postcard?!’-”

“It’s too early for this bullshit…” I chuckled, shaking my head in an annoyed fashion as he tried to pick a fight. He was always like this. I was the apple of his eye until I did something he didn’t approve of. Then he’d berate me into years. He always knew just what to say to blow my mood. I tucked my earbuds and started to head for the door.

“We’re gonna have to talk about this some time, Talia!” He said running his fingers through his short sandy blonde hair.

“Yeah- well it doesn’t have to be now.” I said numbly, raising the volume on my music as I walked out the door. With that, I began to run.

I pushed myself during my morning workout, all the way to the hill where Sam and I would stop to watch the sunset. My Godfather had found a way to work my nerves again and I laid out on the grass to call the one who could soothe my restless mind. My mother. The phone rang and rang for a while. It was still early so she could’ve been sleeping still. But when she finally answered, I almost wanted to cry. “Mommy…” I choked. Hot tears ran down the sides of my face, mixing in with the sweat. I sobbed softly on my end.

“He did it again, huh?” I heard her sigh in annoyance. “I’m gonna have a talk with him because he’s been doing this far too often and I'm not okay with that.” She rambled. “What did he get all pissy about this time?”

“I fell for an older man and now I’m suddenly training to travel the world.” I blurted. I was afraid of how she’d react.

“How old is he?”

“42…” I mumbled.

“That’s not… awful. It’s a little older than I’d like but you’re approaching 30 in a few short years-”

“My thoughts exactly. And he’s ridiculously handsome and funny. And he’s so smart… he’s a historian slash….collector of antiquities….” I began to gush about him to her.

“A historian? Wow! Your tastes have certainly changed.”

“He’s not like the stuffy kind though. He’s… different… And I’m learning a lot really! He specializes in Pirates...”

“Well that’s good! And you’re traveling the world now?” She asked, sounding impressed.

“Not yet but I’m training for it…”

“You have to train to get on a airplane?” She asked and I chuckled. My mom was adorable.

“No, mama. His work requires a lot of scaling and… hiking…” I lied. I knew if I told her about the guns and such she’d disapprove. And I’d never hear the end of it. “I like to say I’m dating Indiana Jones.” I smirked. Just as I stood up to go home, the sun rose above the clouds, painting the skies orange and pink as I heard her positive laughter on the other end.

“Oh lord… When do you get to go?”

“When he declares me ready enough. He’s away on a job right now so I’m doing solo training in the meantime…” I began to start down hill.

“Where do you think you’ll go?” She asked me as I decided to walk home instead of run, to spend time on the phone with my mom. I told her everything about him. Laid it all out on the table. Even about his jail time. The short brief version that Sam had given me so she knew it wasn’t his fault.

I concluded my conversation with my mother at the docks where I had my morning smoke. “You’ll talk to dad about it right? I don’t want Godfather James to go blabbing to him about me dating an ex-convict half my age.” I said rolling my eyes.

“I’ll talk to him. We all know he’s been prone to spinning the truth a little…”

“Thank you!” I sighed in relief.

“So other than this situation… you’re okay?” As she spoke, I noticed The Morgan rocking gently on the waves as it was docked and smiled to myself.

“I can honestly tell you that I’ve never been happier.”

“Good. I’m glad. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Yeah it has… Well I gotta go now. I’ve got a lot to do today…”

“Alright, monkey. You need to call me more often. I don’t know what’s goin’ on down there, yknow? I love you.” She said in her motherly voice.

“I know. I love you too, ma. Talk to you later.”

With that, I hung up and started on my fresh pack of cigarettes. As I placed one between my lips and lit it, I received a voicemail from an unknown number. I furrowed my brows as I hit play and pressed and let it play out in my earphones.

“Hey, darlin’, it’s me…” it began and I ceased all movement. I could hear Sam’s raspy Boston accented voice loud and clear. “I miss you so so much and I wish you were here with me. You’d love it. The grass is green, the water is the clearest blue, and the flowers are...small and purple but uh… vibrant nonetheless.” His voice almost brought me to tears. I missed him so much. He’d only been gone a week but it felt like forever. “The job is going as planned. Might’ve hit a snag for a second but we pulled through.” He sounded tired. I hoped he was getting enough rest. “Now, just because I’m not there right now, I hope you’ve been training and taking care of yourself. Um….” I heard him blow a raspberry on the other end and I chuckled, finally taking a drag of my cigarette that had just been burning this whole time. I could just hear him smiling on the other end, wherever he was. “I can’t wait to get back to you… I’m gonna video call you tonight so be near your laptop, mmkay? I gotta go now. Um… take it easy, be safe driving if you go anywhere, have a good class if you’re teaching today, have a successful rehearsal….. aaand I’ll talk to you soon, sweetheart. Drake out!” I smiled to myself, cringing at the last bit. He could try so hard to be “cool” sometimes when he didn’t need to be. But I liked it. It made me laugh.

My day was dreary to say the least. I taught a kids ballet class and a teens hip hop class scheduled for this morning and this evening. It was hard to pay attention all day and it made classes a little rough today. I wasn’t on the ball. When I came home, I sat in my car to roll a blunt and smoke for a little bit. I stared at Sam’s empty house and sighed. I wanted him back home, that’s for sure. I missed his hugs, his voice, the corny jokes, and the way he smelled. Whilst I sat there, stoned out of my mind, I had a thought. I quickly tapped out the blunt and grabbed my dance bag before running to Sam’s. I let myself inside and I fought back a sob. Feeling embarrassed about it I made my way to his fridge and stole the bottle of scotch he was always drinking. I never saw the appeal in it but he always looked damn good drinking it. I popped the top off and took a sip before sealing it and placing it in my bag. Then I made my way to his room. It smelled like him. Cologne, cigarettes, and beer. I opened up his closet to browse his range of tee shirts and bold Hawaiian prints before my eyes landed on a black crew neck sweater and a dark plaid button down shirt. Immediately I snatched them and a random blue graphic tee off the hangers. “Well shit, hun. Maybe you do have some taste.” I said to myself. On my way out, I grabbed the blanket we used to wrap up in when we watched TV and one of his books from his shelf. The one I always tried to read when I came over but he would always scoop me in his arms and tell me how good I looked reading. Almost always ending up in sex so I could never continue. Smirking, I tucked the thick book under my arm and turned to leave.

That night after my shower, the first thing I put on was Sam’s plaid shirt. As I sat on my bed, I turned the TV on and dried my hair, setting up my laptop for Sam to call. I went downstairs to ask my Godmother if she needed any help with the kids but she told me she was fine so with a disappointed look I said my “okay” and returned upstairs with snacks to keep watching TV. I changed the channels a few times when I didn’t like what came on. That’s when I stopped on a channel playing Raiders of the Lost Ark. I chuckled as I grabbed my snacks from my mini fridge and the bottle of scotch. I was actually enjoying myself and for once didn’t feel like shit. That’s when I heard a ping from my laptop. It was a message from Sam.

Cap’nDrake: You awake, Princess?

I cackled at his username for a moment before responding.

Tali_Sc0res: Your username is ridiculous.

Cap’nDrake: Well I’m not changing it.

My laptop let out a little twitter as he requested a video call. Immediately, I got up to close my door and mute my TV. I adjusted my hair and let his shirt hang off my shoulder a bit before answering. Suddenly, he appeared on screen from his desk, his upper body covered by a thin white tank, reading glasses perched at the bridge of his nose, cigarette smoke exiting his nostrils as he ran his fingers through his wet hair. The scar above his eyebrow that always seemed to get reopened was covered by a bandage but other than that, he seemed fine. I smiled brightly as I watched him put away some maps and close up some books. “Heya, sweetheart!” He grinned warmly as he pulled the glasses from his face. I pouted a bit as he did so as he bit his lip, taking in my entire appearance. “My god, you look delicious- is that my shirt?!” He asked, narrowing his eyes to get a better look at me.

“Maybe.” I replied as I scrunch my face and take a large sip of scotch.

“You raided my house?” He chuckled, rubbing his hand across the stubble on his face. “That miserable, huh?” He could read me very well.

“Honestly… I think I’m handling you being gone pretty well. Today I just… My Godfather pissed me off early as hell in the morning and I really just wanted to be with you.” I sighed, thinking about the conversation I had with him this morning.

“What’s little Jimmy bitchin’ about now?” He didn’t sound worried one bit as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“He found out about us and he didn’t hesitate to tell me how much he didn’t like it.” I said, taking a long sip of scotch, the burn feeling much better than my current emotions.

“Aye aye! Take it easy, sister. That stuff’s not cheap.” He nagged through the screen. I chuckled through the bottle and put the cork back in it, sitting it on my nightstand next to me. “As for James,” he made a face acknowledging the pettiness of my Godfather. “Don’t let him get to you. He has a tendency to lash out when things don’t go his way. He’s a little bitch like that.” He said in an unconcerned tone.

“Trust me I know. We’ve butted heads almost all my life. He’d get mad if I was on the phone too long or if I wasn’t interested in something he was talking about…”

“Listen, I’m sure he means well.” He reached offscreen and brought a beer to his lips before placing it back down.

“He called you an ex-convict.” I told him and he burst into laughter. Literally loud and boisterous, slapping his knees and clapping. I chuckled to myself as he found amusement in my Godfather’s comment. He spoke when he finally calmed himself down enough.

“Jesus, James! Tell me how you really feel.” He giggled.

We continued to talk for a few and he told me all about what he’d seen in India. The landmarks, that statue work, the puzzles they found all over the place. He spoke of how he was leading Chloe’s competitor on a wild goose chase by lying that he was a Hoysala expert. Only he could get away with something like that. The mouth on that man was talented in more ways than one. Then he asked me how things were going on my side of the world. “I have a dance recital comin’ up. The kids get to show what they’ve learned then the other teachers and myself do a dance too.”

“Now we’re talkin’!” He beamed at me. “When?!”

“Would you even be back in time?” I sulked.

“Hey, now. Pick your head up, sweetheart.” He said. I lifted my head but took my gaze to a random corner of my room, giving an annoyed huff. “Look at me.” I tilted my head and brought my eyes to the screen. “I’m gonna be there.” He stated. “I’ll be sittin’ right in the front row so save my seat, sister!” He grinned. That made me feel good. That meant he might be home soon.

“I will.”

“Now, I can’t stay up with you for too much longer but would you do me the honor of granting this… poor old man a favor?” He said dramatically clutching his heart through his shirt. I gave a flirty smirk and adjusted myself to sitting back on my heels.

“What do you need?” I mewed.

“Would you sing for me?” He asked. It was such a pure request from him that I blushed, covering my cheeks with the long sleeves of the shirt.

“Really? You want me to sing?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, doll.” he looked at me longingly and I couldn’t stop myself from becoming a blushing mess. “Now I know it’s not selling out a stadium or anything but it’s one fan who’s really missed hearing your voice… Song of your choice of course.”

I rolled my eyes with a laugh as I reached next to my bed to pull my acoustic guitar from its case. Sitting the guitar in my lap, I thought long and hard about what to sing for him, briefly checking the tuning of the strings. Without much preparation, I began strumming the chords and plucking the strings to Strange Land by Niki. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes, lighting another cigarette and taking his beer in hand to relax as my voice carried through the laptop.

Here for the nosedive

Whatever you need

And I'm savin' all the bold lines

I'll say 'em while you sleep

You're sleepin' on the wrong side

And I'm turnin' endlessly

Screamin' for my lifeline, lifeline, life

Ooh, continental drifter

Still, I'm the hero of my hometown

Now I'm all laid up with you, sentimental trickster

Maybe in another lifetime, lifetime, life (oh)...

“Wow… it’s almost like I’m hearing you sing for the first time all over again.” He said with a sentimental tone. He gave me a genuine smile.

“Goodnight, Sam…” I sang softly. He reached out to touch the screen for a moment and gave a small smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll be home soon…. I love you.” He said before terming the connection. My heart skipped as I stared at the black screen. ‘Did he really just say that to me?’ I thought with a smile as I put my guitar away. I spent the rest of watching Indiana Jones with a goofy look on my face.

#uncharted 4 #sam drake x reader smut #sam drake #samuel drake x reader #samuel drake #uncharted smut #uncharted #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted x reader #sam drake smut

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blueroseblaze · 6 years ago

Text

Wreck: Chapter 3

Nero stepped through the door of the apartment, studying the almost untouched state of the place.

Nothing had been moved or changed since they left for their mission. The pillows from the sofa were still strewn about with little regard. The same pairs of shoes and boots littered the entry way with none being added or removed. None of the dinning chairs had been moved to what he could see. Even the rhythmic drip of the leaky kitchen faucet, which could be stopped with just a tug of the cold water handle, still continued on with no interference.

Nero cautiously tread through the apartment, looking for any sign of life. Only to come up empty handed.

No one answered the phone when he had called from the hospital earlier that morning. When he called Lady and Trish they answered within moments. When he called Patty and Morrison, they both answered within 5 rings. Dante was a dick and let his phone ring until the last second, and Kyrie missed it but immediately called him back.

It didn’t worry him too much, none of them were good at answering the apartment phone anyway. It was when he received no answer from the van’s phone that made him worry. Nico was always one to give him shit for breaking the third ring rule, to the point where they dropped it and just had Nero call her. Nico never didn’t answer the phone in the van, she would always drop whatever she was doing to answer it if no one else did. Communication was key in their line of work, and Nero’s had been one sided for days.

He walked over to the land line that sat on an end table in the living room, he cleared all the missed calls and voicemails that he left and listened to the ones not from him. Some were scams, some were from Patty wanting to leave an excited welcome home message for (Y/N). He smiled at her cheerfulness, wishing he had such a positive outlook on life.

His attention was pulled away by a loud clang coming from the garage door. His brow knit together curiously as he followed the noises. As he approached the door, he could hear more clangs and crashes, like tools being discarded haphazardly. He could also pick up a few swears spoken in a familiar southern drawl.

He carefully opened the door, like he was almost afraid of what was on the other side. The door slowly fell open, creaking on it’s aged hinges. Almost immediately his senses were bombarded with a smog of cigarette smoke and rust. His eyes started watering as he stepped deeper into the garage, waving his hand in front of his face to waft the stench away, to no avail. He took note of the numerous empty and crushed energy drink cans littering the floor. He carelessly discarded them with his boot as he shuffled through the mess.

His view of the garage was mostly obscured by the massive van sitting in the center, the neon Devil May Cry sign was shut off the dull lettering reflecting the mood of the space. The body of the van was covered in scratched and gashes through the metal frame, some panels of metal just barely hanging on. The hood was propped up, and the drivers side door was open, allowing him to see through the front row to the other side, where he heard the continued cursing coming from.

“Damnit!” a quiet voice hissed from the other side of the van.

Nero stalked around the front of the van, cautiously peeking around the vehicle to the crouched form on the ground. The mess leading to the garage door was nothing compared to the trash pile Nico had nested herself in.

With a lit cigarette in her mouth, Nico stared annoyed at the decimated passenger side door, or what was left of it. Around her were several open cans of liquid sugar and alcohol. Many tools were also strewn about the concrete floor, with no order or system to speak of. Nico -despite being the crazy grease monkey she was- always kept her work space and instruments organized, only really getting messy when she was using a select set of tools for a project. But this? Nero has never seen so many wrenches, pliers, cables and ratchets scattered across the ground.

That wasn’t even to describe the state Nico herself was in. Her hair was greasy and unkempt, messily tied back rather than pushed back and fluffed up like it normally was. Her clothes, which were never really clean in the first place, were covered in grease and what Nero worriedly suspected was some blood too. Her face was haggard, devoid of any positive emotion, the skin around her eyes was sagging and dark and her eyes were blood shot and hazed over.

She lazily took a drag of her cigarette, tapping the loose ashes away to the floor with little thought, which was probably insanely dangerous to do next to an almost armored vehicle. She didn’t even turn to regard the white haired devil hunter, probably not knowing he was even there.

“Nico?” Nero prodded carefully.

“Hey, Nero,” she replied still not turning her head. Her voice was low, slurring with clear exhaustion.

Nero leaned his body against the open hood of the van looking down at Nico as she kept staring at the damaged door frame.

“What have you been doing?” he asked not wanting to bring up the missed calls just yet.

Nico puffed on her cigarette, exhaling another cloud of tobacco into the confined space, just adding to the awful smell permeating through the air.

“Working,” Nico replied simply.

Nero sighed before kicking a discarded can across the room, the sound of the aluminum bouncing around concrete ringing out throughout the garage. He looked back to Nico, who hadn’t even flinched at the sharp loud noise. The silence that followed grew more and more in awkwardness as the seconds ticked by. Nero pursed his lips, looking for the right thing to say. It was obvious Nico was in no mood to be snarky or partake in small talk. Her face and general demeanor was a clear, “don’t fucking talk to me,” sign. It sent a sense of unease through Nero’s system, seeing what was basically the opposite of the Nico he knew.

“(Y/N) is doing fine. She woke up last night and she’s okay,” Nero explained.

“And you just left her there? Alone?” Nico snapped, suddenly becoming more visceral.

“I waited until she woke up and then told her I was coming back here,” Nero said growing slightly annoyed at her accusatory tone, “I tried calling you, several times, but you wouldn’t pick up.”

“Well I’m sorry! But I’ve been a little busy here!” she snapped at him, her voice growing louder, more laced with venom as she spit her excuse towards him. She removed the cigarette from her lips, extinguishing it on an ashtray placed on the floor near her. She stood from her spot on the ground wobbling a little as she turned her back and walked away, running her hand through her messy hair.

Nero felt a little anger growing in his chest as he raised himself from the hood of the van to stand up straight. He crossed his arms over his chest, his broad shoulder tensing.

“You constantly got on my ass for not picking up the phone fast enough. even when I’m out hunting demons, but when I’m calling from the fucking hospital to tell you how our friend is doing you just give me silence!” Nero yelled.

Nico spun around, almost fast enough for her red glasses to slide down her nose. She had rage in her tired eyes as her chest moved with her angry huffs. Her boots slammed against the floor as she cleared the space between them in only a few strides. Their chests were mere inches apart when Nico poked her finger into Nero’s sternum.

“That’s because you’re a dumbass who can’t keep track of time! Meanwhile, I’m back here working on something really fucking important, but I guess not to you!” Nico yelled in his face, her breath reeked of tobacco and a cocktail of disgusting smelling things with an absence of toothpaste or mints.

Now it was Nero’s turn to huff and puff in anger.

“Do you have any idea how disappointed she was when I told her you hadn’t even picked up the phone or bothered to come and see her in the hospital?” he asked his voice slowly raising, “She was out of it for three days and not once to you even bother to call and ask if she was okay!”

He jerked away from Nico’s accusatory poking before continuing his rant.

“Patty was able to stop by, Lady called the hospital asking if (Y/N) was okay, but I called the van directly and you didn’t even pick up. You answered me once and the hung up after I said she was alive. Do you know how much that hurt her? Do you even care?”

“OF COURSE, I CARE!” Nico screamed, “You think I don’t care about her? Or what happened? You think that I’ve had even a wink of sleep these past few days? You think I’ve done anything but worry and work on this god forsaken van!?”

As she screams, she started lashing out flailing her arms in rage and kicking the side of the van several times, like it would help anything at all. Nero saw how she squeezed her eyes shut, barring and grinding her teeth as her breathing became more ragged with each violent action. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists tight, trying to hold back an even greater rage she was feeling. Nero worried for a moment that she would hurt herself as she continued to beat on the van, hurling expletives and ravings at it like it had slighted her grandmother.

Nero let her flush all the anger out of her system, watching as her attacks on the vehicle slowly decreased in power and volume. Her breathing was all over the place, gasps and uneven pants replacing her curses and insults. She leaned her forearms against the side of the van, her back hunched and the top of her head pressed against the cold and abused metal. Her back shook with her uneven breaths, and Nero saw the little droplets that fell to the garage floor at her feet.

“So that this never happens again,” she said, her voice hoarse, shaky, unsure yet determined.

“What?” Nero asked softly, not picking upon the context during her tirade.

“I’ve been working…” she started, trailing off as her voice shook, “So that this never… happens… again.”

Nico raised her head to look at Nero. Her whole face was red and splotchy, her cheeks were stained with tear tracks, and the lenses of her glasses had fogged up. Her face contorted with sadness, anger, and what looked like guilt. She pulled herself away from the van turning her head as to not look at Nero. Her arms crossed around her body, hugged herself tightly. Nero had never seen Nico so vulnerable and insecure before.

Nero’s whole posture had relaxed as he stepped towards her. As carefully as he could muster, he encircled his arms around her, holding her close to him. He felt her burry her face into his chest as her sobs continued. She didn’t unwind her own arms to return the gesture, just letting Nero hold her as she cried. One of Nero’s hand rested flat against her back, while the other cradled her head closer to him. He hushed her as she cried trying in vain to calm her down.

“It’s my fault,” she hiccupped, “It’s all my fault.”

“That’s not true,” Nero replied sharply.

“I wasn’t paying attention, I should have seen the damage. I shouldn’t have gone for that jump.”

She continued sobbing into Nero’s wine red sweater.

“I should have stopped or slowed down. If… if I didn’t go for it, she wouldn’t have fallen out… It’s my fault she got hurt. A-and I saw her… I saw her fall and I didn’t do anything. Even after I stopped I-I just stared...”

“There was nothing you could do,” Nero explained, his voice soft ginger as he stroking the mechanic’s back calmingly, “There was nothing anyone could do. It was already too late. I should have seen the demon on the side, but I didn’t. I should have seen her fall, but I didn’t. No one knew that she wasn’t safe anymore. But it’s okay now, she’s alive, she’s healing. All we can do now is be there for her, right?”

He felt her nod against his chest, letting out a few more hiccups as she reached up to wipe the stray tears from her eyes. Her breathing began to even out, slow and deep and her shaking subsided.

“She’s not mad at you,” Nero said, “She doesn’t blame you. She was just upset that you didn’t come to see her. She was worried about you.”

“Was she upset when she woke up because of how bad you smell?” Nico teased, laughing through the last of her hiccups, “You smell like you crawled out a demons ass.”

“Oh, and you smell like a field of roses,” Nero smugly replied.

“Gross, you flirting with me?” Nico asked.

“Just for that…” Nero said, as he began to smother Nico into his sweater as she fought against him cackling.

They both fought against each other laughing as Nero refused to let Nico go to breath. It was rare they both had something to mutually laugh at together. They both just liked taking to piss with each other and really only laughed together when (Y/N) told a good joke on the way to or from a mission.

Eventually Nero relented, releasing Nico who returned the sentiment by calling him an asshole and punching him in the chest, which did little to hurt him. He laughed and humored her by raising his hand to where her fist connected. They giggled like kids together, their laughs slowly dissipating, and an uncomfortable silence fell over them.

“We should both clean up and get some rest, it doesn’t look like you’ve slept, and I’ve been crashing on a hospital couch for three days. We can go see (Y/N) later, she’ll be thrilled to see you,” Nero said, laying a hand on Nico’s shoulder.

She nodded and understanding smile graced her freckled cheeks before fading just as fast as it appeared.

Feedback is much appreciated :)

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #nero #dmc nero #nico #dmc nico #reader #nero x reader #dmc fanfiction #dmc fanfic #devil may cry fanfiction #reader insert #angst

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zombryz · 4 years ago

Text

★ needy ★ a Frieza story pt.4

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

TW - mentions of lemon

Please enjoy ⍟ sorry it took me forever to upload this pls dont hate me

The next morning felt different, not just because you woke up to an alien's arms wrapped around you but still you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You were still lying comfortably in the position you had fallen asleep in the night before. Frieza held you close to his chest, your leg wrapped over his lower abdomen and his tail clung itself to your lower waist. You didn’t want to move, you were so at peace. As you became more awake you noticed your surroundings. The air had shifted slightly and the sun was peering through the window, not like before where the sun seemed distant in the starry filled sky. You heard birds chirping beautifully in the background as you finally fluttered your eyes open. Birds? Wait a minute, you were on Earth!

The realization caused you to jump up in excitement. As you sat up in bed you found yourself trapped in by Frieza’s tail, you had almost forgotten that you were still a prisoner. There was no way Frieza was just going to let you go, last night didn’t matter to him. His words echoed in the back of your mind, “I will only breed with you this once.” You sighed, melting back down in bed, upset at the world and upset with Frieza.

“Good morning, my little human companion,” Frieza shifted comfortably and let the grip of his tail tighten around you as he yawned himself awake. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he wasn’t adorable. You grew more annoyed at your situation, wishing you could just take him back to your apartment and keep him there forever. He pulled you away from your thoughts by pulling you into his arms and into a tight embrace. His chin was resting on your forehead. Damn you, Frieza.

“Hello, my Lord,” you smiled at him up at him, unsure if you actually enjoyed calling him that or if you were just trying to mock him.

“You may have noticed that my ship is docked on your home planet, are you excited to see your friends again?”

This had to be a test, he’s trying to see where your loyalties lie. You thought to yourself, where do your loyalties lie? Obviously with your friends, last night doesn’t change anything. It can’t change anything. Right? You decided to have the upper hand here, you climbed on top of Frieza straddling him once again. The gesture was sweet unlike last night which was pure sex.

“I would rather lay here with you for all of eternity,” you leaned down to kiss him. The kiss was brief but pleasant and he didn’t pull away. After a moment you were the one to pull away slowly leaving him wanting more. You played it smart, if Frieza was here with you then he wouldn’t be a threat to your friends. If Goku and Vegeta weren’t back yet then the others wouldn’t stand a chance. Frieza looked you up and down and fixed his eyes on your lips. He was trying to read you to see if you were telling the truth. Luckily, it wasn’t a full lie. You definitely did want to lay with Frieza forever, you could die happy laying here with him getting fucked by him over and over again.

Frieza’s evil, shameful smile had returned. He brought his pointer finger to your face and shook it up and down, “Ah, tsk, tsk Y/N. I warned you and you should have listened.” His hand formed into an open palm as he held it over your forehead. This was a familiar motion and unfortunately, you knew what was to come next. Your eyes felt heavy and started to close involuntarily. He had drained your energy and you had fallen into a deep sleep.

-----------------------

You were very uncomfortable, there was a sudden gust of wind that hit your face waking you from your slumber. You had no idea how long you were out. From what you could tell you were outside now, the sun was shining brightly through your closed eyelids. You attempted to open them but the sun's rays were blinding causing you to pull your hand to your face to shield the sunlight. When you finally adjusted to the brightness you removed your hand from above your head and placed it back down near your knees as you sat up on them. You were on a floating metal platform. Your collar was still around your neck and you felt a chain connected to your hands and feet. You were locked onto the platform, when you looked to your right you saw Frieza’s tail hanging out of what looked like a hover pod. He was hovering just slightly higher than you so you were unable to see his face. There were soldiers surrounding you and looked to be guarding Frieza. You looked down on the hill where the soldiers were facing, you saw all of your friends. Bulma, Whis, and Beerus were standing with Goten and Trunks. Gohan looked injured and was standing over Piccolo, it was hard to see but he looked very injured as well. Krillin was leaning over him with a worried look plastered all over his face. Standing in front of everyone was a very angry Vegeta and Goku, you sighed with relief seeing that the others were in good hands now that they were here. The realization of the situation finally set in, Frieza actually went through with his attack. You weren’t sure what you expected but you had hoped he’d have a change of heart. You were a fool to think that. There wasn’t much you could do so you stared at your friends until one of them noticed you. Goku looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours. His angry face breaking, giving you a slight smile.

“She’s awake, She’s okay!” Goku yelled out for all of the others to hear. The worry in his voice was quickly replaced with relief. You smiled down at him, it was so good to see him again. “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll be right there to get you!” he added speaking directly to you this time. Vegeta had now fixed his eyes on you also, his eyebrows lifted slightly after seeing that you were okay.

“Monkeys, sadly I do not believe your beloved Y/N is in need of being saved. In fact, I believe you’ll find that she has grown very fond of being with me.”

You looked up at Frieza to see he had left his hover pod. He was now flying on his own and heading towards Goku. You sat up on your palms nervous for what was about to happen.

“Oh yeah? Then why is she tied up against her will?” Goku furrowed his brows at Frieza, he didn’t believe his lies. He began flying up towards Frieza to meet him halfway. This was going to be bad.

They were too high up for you to hear their conversation, it was brief but you could feel its intensity. A few moments later they backed off and began to trade blows. They were clashing at insane speeds and you were no longer able to see their attacks. Vegeta looked very impatient and irritated. He flew up to both of them and Frieza and Goku paused to listen to Vegeta. You were still unable to hear what they were saying to each other. They must’ve come to a conclusion because Vegeta let Goku continue fighting Frieza, this time Goku turned Super Saiyan Blue. You were growing concerned for Frieza, unsure if he was powerful enough to fight Goku. Suddenly it became very bright, it looked like Frieza was also powering up. There was a bright orange aura surrounding him, blinding you and everyone else in the sky. When his aura dimmed he revealed a new form, he was Golden. He was absolutely stunning to say the least, even Goku looked surprised. It didn’t take long for them to begin fighting again. Your eyes tried to follow their dances across the sky and you bit your bottom lip in fear. From what you could tell Goku was losing. Just like that, Goku fell out of the sky returning to his base form. Oh no, you thought. Your heart was racing. Frieza hovered over Goku’s body and it looked like he was preparing to kill him once and for all, you screamed out Frieza’s name with tears in your eyes. Frieza hesitated at the sound of your voice but still sent out a ki blast. His hesitation bought Vegeta time to jump in front of Goku.

Vegeta deflected Frieza’s ki beam sending it into a nearby mountain top. Vegeta powered up to Super Saiyan Blue and began to throw punches at Frieza. He fought with more anger than Goku, knowing the history between them you understood why. They both took off to the air and you lost track of their movements. Goku was returned to the rest of your friends on the hilltop and given a senzu bean. Everyone focused on the fight, even Whis and Beerus who seemed to be unfazed and enjoying something Bulma had brought them to snack on. Within a few moments Goku was up and he must’ve used instant transmission to appear in front of Vegeta and Frieza’s fight which looked to be coming to an end. You had just noticed that Frieza’s men that were surrounding you were no longer there, you were floating alone in the sky. Frieza was on his knees in front of Vegeta who was holding his palm over his exhausted body. Goku was behind them preparing his ultimate kamehameha and you felt your heart shatter in your chest. Goku was going to kill him. You had to do something. You let out a gut wrenching scream calling Goku’s name. The saiyans had never heard so much pain come from you. Vegeta, Goku, and Frieza all turned their heads towards you. Tears were falling down your face, your throat dry and raspy. You were shaking, pulling at your shackles trying to break yourself free.

“STOP! PLEASE!” You yelled, trying your hardest for your voice to reach them. “DON’T KILL HIM!” you cried.

Goku swept in front of Vegeta and grabbed Frieza before he could escape. They had both let their guards down and Goku knew Frieza would have used that against them but he didn’t. Frieza was beat up and was back in his base form, he was in Goku’s grasp and he stared at you slightly confused as to why you were pleading for his life. The three of them flew over to you, Frieza still being held at the shoulder by Goku.

“What is it, Y/N? Are you hurt?” Goku questioned as he got in close enough proximity to you.

“No, I-I just... Please don’t kill him.” you begged.

“I don’t understand. Do you even understand who he is, woman?” Vegeta chimed in spitting anger through gritted teeth, fuming that Frieza wasn’t already dead.

“I know, it's just that,” you paused, unsure how to exactly say the next part, “I care about him.” you said softly, your head dropping low because you couldn’t look them in the eyes. Frieza was their sworn enemy. Vegeta was once his slave. They wouldn’t not kill him just because you care about him, it wasn’t good enough. You allowed yourself to care about Frieza, you gave yourself to him. What would they do if they found out? They would never forgive you. They would see you as their enemy too. There was a long pause before Goku finally decided to speak.

“I don’t know what happened to you up there, Y/N, but I know that no one has ever cared about Frieza. We’ll let him go this time but if he tries anything we will not hesitate to put him back in the ground that he crawled out of”

Vegeta looked upset with the outcome, he huffed and puffed. “Kakarot, what the -”

“Oh come on Vegeta, if Frieza trained up to get this strong then we can keep sparring with him and get even stronger.”

You weren’t really listening to them anymore, your eyes were on Frieza’s. He stared back at you with a look you hadn’t seen before. It was with adoration. No one had ever cared about him before, you were becoming special to him. He may not have a heart but with you he hesitates and he doesn’t understand why. He finally saw what the ‘Monkey’s’ saw in you. It was as if his revenge didn’t matter anymore, you gave him a purpose. Once everyone accepted his fate they escorted him back to Capsule Corp where he was told he had to stay under your watch on probation. If anything got out of hand Goku would be there to stop it. He was also going to be under Vegeta’s roof. You could get used to having Frieza around, this time he’d be the one in a collar. You smirked at the thought.

#frieza #dbs frieza #dbs goku #lord frieza #freeza #frieza imagine #friezaneedyfic #fanfic #Bryannawrites

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reivenesque · 7 years ago

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(Sequel to Snapshots) - ao3

Vignettes

From the age of about fourteen, Eva always thought she’d end up marrying Jonas; her curly haired, uni-browed prince on a white horse who swept her off her feet and they’d go riding off into the sunset together to live their happily ever after.

By the time she was sixteen she realized that a happily ever after probably wasn’t even in the books for her after everything she did and the friendship she ruined with her selfishness and her prince charming turning out to be just a toad in disguise.

Eva had never been much for fantasy or fairytales. Cinderella was a doormat who refused to stand up to the people who walked all over her. Aurora and Snow White married the first man that looked their way before they even got to know him or the person he truly was on the inside. Ariel gave up who she was and her family and nearly sacrificed everything for man she didn’t know and a world that never would have accepted her had they known what she really was.

Again and again, the fairytales ended up being a variation of the same story told over and over again and a bitter, hurt, vindictive sixteen year old Eva never wanted that to be the end of hers.

Years passed and people changed. Her friends got married and had kids of their own and Eva just watched as the progression of time passed her by and for the longest time she was more than happy to wave it as it passed with a jolly adieu. No matter how much Vilde pestered her. No matter how much Chris teased her. No matter how intense the look Sana pinned her with. No matter how happy Noora looked when she walked by with William on her arm and the baby bump under her white cotton dress. Eva was content in her life being single and independent and being able to sleep with anyone, anywhere she wanted without consequence.

As usual, Chris ended up being the wrench in her finely tuned gears.

Throughout the remainder her teens and for most of her adult life, Chris was her one constant; her most consistent relationship – if it could even be described as such.

Chris wanted what Eva wanted which was nothing more than the night they spent together and maybe a stolen kiss in a dimly lit backroom of a club. Maybe at some point he did want more, maybe he did want a girlfriend and a relationship and a wife, but he never brought up the subject and Eva was more than happy to let that particular sleeping dog lie. She was happy being oblivious and leaving the topic where it belonged: unsaid.

They’d been not-dating for almost fourteen years by that point, even ending up moving in together and living a life that involved one another, but they didn’t marry; they didn’t talk about marriage or children or anything beyond the life they already shared. What was the point? Eva was happy and Chris was happy. They had good, steady jobs, a beautiful apartment overlooking the city, a nice potted plant decorating the window named Albert and a long put off plan to get a cat.

Chris never asked for more and Eva never offered.

She did feel a twinge sometimes, somewhere deep in the heart she thought she’d closed off a long time ago, when she went out with her friends or met colleagues and former classmates at get-together or reunions. Watching Vilde laughing at Magnus pretending to be an elephant and chasing after their two screaming kids. Watching Sana feeding her new baby and Yousef piggy backing the other two at the same time. Watching Chris and Mahdi and their little boy playing on the monkey bars and Noora fussing over a little blonde girl who was the spitting image of her before William walked up behind them and hugged her around the waist.

In those moments, Eva would look over at Chris at her side, taking strength and comfort in the sight of his smile – the creases and smile lines around his eyes having become more prominent through the years – and the sound of him laughing at some terrible sexual joke he’d just told while at the same time asking herself why?

Why didn’t she want to marry this amazing man that had been with her every step of the way? Who loved and supported her unconditionally no matter what. Why couldn’t she bring herself to say those words to him even though she was able to tell him absolutely everything? Why did she not want to give him kids even though she knew that he would be an amazing father? He was an amazing person, a great boyfriend, the best partner anyone could ever ask for and the best friend Eva never thought she needed in life.

Chris was everything to her, so why couldn’t she bring herself to give him everything he deserved?

Eva was thirty when she finally opened her eyes; when she could finally see what had been right in front of her the whole time.

That she couldn’t live without him. That she didn’t want to live without him.

So thirty-year old Eva who hated fairytales and didn’t believe in happily ever after’s finally admitted to herself that the only reason she felt that way was because she feared that the possibility for a fairytale ending and a happily ever after had long passed her by. That she’d done too much wrong and hurt too many people to even deserve one.

But when Chris looked at her, when he smiled at her and the look in his eyes made her feel like the luckiest, most beautiful fairytale princess in all the land; that was when Eva realized that she did deserve it. That she wanted it and she wanted it to be with him and only him.

Eva was the one who proposed, with a beautiful white gold ring engraved with their initials and a bouquet of fourteen red roses to signify the years they’d known each other. She walked up to the door of their apartment and rung the bell, dropping to one knee before Chris could even think to comment something smartass.

The look on his face made all the worry and the hesitation, all the fear and trepidation, worth it.

Eva turned thirty one a married woman.

Their wedding was small and intimate, only close friends and families in a ceremony in the countryside against a lush green backdrop with a picturesque image of snowy mountains in the distance.

Eva wore a simple lace dress that fitted all the way down to her hips before flaring out and her hair done up in loose pleats with the little blue flowers Noora’s daughter had picked from the garden. Chris was dressed in a classic tuxedo, black and white and sharp and his hair combed back neatly away from his face; similar blue flowers decorating the pocket of his jacket.

In the end there was no way Eva could have picked just one flower girl, so she ended up with three; one of Sana’s, one of Vilde’s and Noora’s little mini-me, with Sana’s two boys and Vilde’s remaining one working collectively as the ring bearers.

The ceremony went off without a hitch and they stayed partying and dancing long after the children were put to bed and the rest of the guests had left.

Eva turned thirty two while on her honeymoon. Instead of three weeks in Hawaii that Vilde had suggested or three weeks in Italy that Noora had suggested or three weeks in Rome that Sana had suggested, Eva put in all her unused vacation time (and then some) and all the money she’d saved up over the years and gone with Chris’s suggestion, which was a year off to travel around the world.

They started in Europe and slowly made their way out. Travelling the world had never been on Eva’s bucket list but it turned out to be the thing she never knew she needed to do.

She returned to Norway a brand new Eva with a terrific new tan and her relationship with Chris couldn’t have been more wonderful.

Eva was thirty four when she became pregnant with Chris’s first child. It was going to be a girl, she told herself. She didn’t know for certain but she just had a feeling and she always knew to trust her instincts.

Nearly eight months into her pregnancy; always tired, perpetually moody and annoyed (most of the time at Chris for just breathing and being just too damn cheerful all the damn time) and too big to fit into all of her favourite clothes and shoes – came Eva and Chris’s first major obstacle.

Noora was over keeping Eva company and helping to massage her swollen feet while Chris had a night out on the town with the boys – the boys being just William and his new midlife-crisis-mustache that Noora had been adamantly against.

The sound of her daughter’s laughter ringing merrily from the living room kept Noora’s mood chipper despite Eva’s continuous moping over some indistinct thing Chris had done three weeks ago that annoyed her, but other than that, it was another peaceful day in Eva’s life.

Until Eva’s water suddenly broke.

At first Eva wasn’t sure what was even happening; she thought she’d wet herself without realizing. But then everything started going downhill and fast. It started with Eva’s odd realization that she couldn’t recall ever getting red tiles for her kitchen floor, until she noticed that the redness was only within the vicinity of where she was sitting, and her feet and the entire length of her pants was dripping wet and red. She realized that the baby was coming but for the life of her she couldn’t even recall ever getting pregnant. She was just suddenly hit by an intense wave of exhaustion that she couldn’t shake off. She wanted to tell Noora to call Chris and tell him not to forget to unplug the microwave and water Albert before he left, but it was like she’d swallowed a handful of cotton, she just wasn’t able to verbalize the words.

She was just so tired.

The last thing she remembered was the sight of Noora’s panicked, tearful eyes in her periphery and the sound of her daughter sobbing in the back. Eva wanted to ask them what was wrong, but she was just so tired, she just needed to close her eyes for just a second.

She blinked once and all of a sudden Noora was gone from her sight, though she was finally free of the debilitating exhaustion.

She wanted to say to Noora, ‘See, nothing’s wrong. I just needed to shut my eyes for a little while,’ but Noora was nowhere to be found. There was only the sight of clean, blinding white ceilings in a stale smelling room that wasn’t hers.

Eva tried to move but jarred whatever it was that had downed her sending her curling into herself to hold off the pain. The next minute she felt gentle hands grasping her shoulder and another circling around her back and a warm body leaning into her, careful not to put any weight on her aching, tired body.

“Chris,” she croaked, hearing the sound leaving her lips before the identity of the figure could even register in her mind.

The figure moved, gently easing out of the embrace and leaning back. That was when Eva noticed his red-rimmed eyes and the tears that pooling in the corner. “Eva,” he cried, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Eva could just stare at him, her brain still trying to fully wake up from her impromptu nap, much less try and interpret whatever it was that had taken place within the couple of seconds she was out.

It took her a moment to realize that maybe she hadn’t closed her eyes for just a second. It came to her about the same time she realized that she was in a hospital and Chris was by her side and he had been crying which meant that something terrible had actually happened.

“The baby,” she gasped, immediately reaching down to cup her stomach only to find it gone and the feel of saggy skin under her palm where her baby used to be.

“The baby’s fine. She’s absolutely fine,” Chris said, reaching down to grasp her hand in his, planting a kiss on the back of her knuckles, “You were the one who almost wasn’t,” he said. “Don’t ever to that to me, Eva, please. I can’t live without you,” he said, a single tear breaking free, slowly beginning its descent down the side of his cheek.

Eva immediately reached up and with her thumb stopped it about halfway, letting it continue trickling down her palm before splashing onto the white sheet of the bed. “I’m so sorry,” she said, cupping his cheek and watching as he gently leaned into her touch. “I’m so sorry. I won’t ever leave you, I promise. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Chris said, grasping Eva’s hand with both of his and plating another kiss right in the middle of her palm.

Chris’s reaction had been devastating, but it wasn’t even comparable to Noora’s, who didn’t even make it halfway into the room before she broke down into a sobbing mess. She had been the one to deal with Eva’s water breaking and the subsequent bleeding that had followed. She was the one who caught Eva was she collapsed and the one trying to keep calm as she held her best friend bleeding in her arms while calling the ambulance and trying to calm her sobbing daughter all at the same time.

Noora had been Eva’s first friend and arguably her best friend, but that moment forged in near tragedy was the thing that truly made them sisters from that point on.

Eva didn’t think there was anything she could do to ever make it up to Noora, but she knew that Chris was going to spend the rest of his life trying to do just that.

“I like the name Maya,” she said to Chris a few days later when it was just the two of them in the hospital holding the sleeping, wrinkly little human that they’d made together wrapped up in a bundle in Eva’s arms.

“It’s a perfect name,” said Chris, “From a perfect mom to a perfect baby.”

Eva smiled at that and even though she was only a few days old and lost in a dreamy slumber land, so did Maya.

Eva had turned thirty six when Maya had her first birthday. Chris was thirty eight and even though they were both older than their friends when they had their first child and probably older than most people with a one year old kid, Eva realized that there was nothing about her life she would have ever changed.

She needed those early years to find herself; to realize her full potential and become the Eva whose skin she was proud to wear. She needed the subsequent years to realize she loved Chris and to be sure that he was the person she wanted to share the rest of her life with.

The older she grew; when grey strands in her hair became a more difficult reality to avoid and her knees started clicking and she became slightly more winded when she climbed up a slightly higher staircase than usual. When her friends got married and started having families one by one, Eva was still perfectly content with her own life.

But at the end of the day, having Chris as part of her life and now Maya – whose toothless smile always reached her eyes and whose laughter could drag Eva out of even her darkest days – having Noora and William and their daughter living just down the street and Vilde, Sana and Chris all barely fifteen minutes away; having Isak and Even both on speed dial and ready to come over for tea any time of the day; with her mom coming over a few times a month without fail to visit and play with her first granddaughter, Eva thought her life was finally truly fulfilled.

Finally Eva felt like she’d gotten the happily ever after she always deserved.

The End.

#chriseva #mohnstad #skam #eva kviig mohn #chris schistad #reiven fics #reiven skam fics #fics: vignette #noora amalie sætre #noorhelm #forever bitter squad #whump

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kprciffdw · 4 years ago

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Kim Possible: The Extremely Secret Files-Part 27

The group continued to scale the wall. Kim pulled out the Kimmunicator. Kim: "Wade, how much further till we reach Drakken?" Wade: "You still have a ways to go. This tunnel will not lead you directly to the control room but I did manage to find one that will. Just keep climbing and get through the first exit. When you have reached that floor, head through the corridor, make a right and you should arrive in a room where the entrance to that next tunnel is." Kim: "Thanks, Wade. We're on our way."

She put away the Kimmunicator. Kim: "Let's keep going, guys."

They kept on climbing some more, they were eventually able to reach the first exit into the other corridor. Ron: "Uh…which way did Wade say we were supposed to go?" Kim: "He told us to make a right and head straight for another room." Ratchet: "Let's remain vigilant, everyone; Drakken could try anything." Ron: "No problem, Ratchet. I've maintained maximum vigilance since we first arrived here."

Ron was about to take another step but then tripped and fell flat on his face. Ron: "Ow! Seriously!? I thought I got over this!"

Ratchet, annoyed, grabbed Ron by his shirt collar, lifted him off the ground and back on his feet. Ratchet: "Let's just keep going."

Ratchet rushed off with Kim and Clank, Ron followed after them.

Drakken observed as the group ran through the next corridor. Drakken: "Yes, that's right, Kim Possible. Hurry along…towards Shego as well as a few other nasty surprises that await you and your little friends. (laugh)"

The group continued through the corridor. Their run through seemed to be one that had gone off uninterrupted this time. Ratchet: "It seems…a little too quiet in here." Kim: "Yeah…Drakken would have sprung another assault on us by now. Something isn't right."

They eventually arrived within a room at the end of the corridor. They stopped for a bit to look around. Just then, the center of the ceiling opened up and Shego dropped right through. Shego: "Oh, hey, Kimmie, I was just dropping in to personally welcome you and your little friends to our humble abode." Ratchet: "Shego! I thought that run through the corridor was too easy." Kim: "Let me guess, Drakken got tired of utilizing alien technology to annihilate us, so now, he's decided to send you out to do his dirty work for him again." Shego: "You've got that right, Kimmie and I willingly volunteered to come out here and take care of you guys myself. I have become a lot stronger since I last faced off against you and cat alien boyfriend." Ratchet: "Uh, I thought I went over this; I'm a…" Shego: "Yeah, yeah, I know. Lombax, undocumented alien species. I was actually paying attention when I was reminded by you guys of that. I just pretended to not know about any of that just to see the reaction on your face."

Ratchet then let out a conceited smile. Ratchet: "Actually, that doesn't annoy me since I now know that you haven't been forgetful of the name of my species, unlike the so called evil genius, Dr. Drakken." Shego: "Dang it! I knew I should have kept pretending to not remember that name!" Kim: "Although, we should give him some props for being able to figure out how to work with this alien technology…somewhat." Shego: "OK, enough talk! It's time we finish this!"

Shego carried out a battle stance as did Kim. Kim: "Oh, I couldn't agree more."

Ratchet stood beside her as he held out his wrench weapon. Ratchet: "Ron! You and Clank find the entrance to that tunnel, Kimberly and I will handle Shego." Ron: "We're on it! Let's go, Clank." Clank: "I am with you, Ron."

They both rushed off together.

Kim and Ratchet fought against Shego while Ron and Clank searched the entire room for the entrance to the next tunnel. At that time, Drakken still observed them. Drakken: "Oh, no you don't! No way I'm letting you sidekicks find any access to me quite so easily."

Drakken slammed his fist on a switch. Ron and Clank kept looking around for that tunnel entrance. Just then, the ceiling opened up right near them, dropping a horde of monkeys. Ron: "AAHHH! MONKEYS!"

He ran away as the monkeys chased after him. Clank placed his hand on his forehead and shook his head. Clank: "Oh, Ron, must you continue to embarrass us like this?"

At that time, Kim and Ratchet stopped their fight with Shego and noticed this immediately. Ratchet was irritated by this; Kim was embarrassed and also irritated. Ratchet: "Have you ever considered helping Ron overcome his fear of monkeys?" Kim: "You think it would be easy for me to do so?" Ratchet: "Uh…knowing Ron…, probably not, even for someone like you."

Just then, the Kimmunicator went off. Kim pulled it out. Clank continued to observe the monkeys. Wade: "Kim, I've scanned those monkeys; they're not organic, they're…" Clank: "Mechanized?" Wade: "Yeah…that's exactly right." Ron: "What the heck does that mean!?"

Ratchet pulled out a blaster. Ratchet: "It means…"

He shot at the monkeys, causing an explosion. Ron held one arm in front of himself and closed his eyes during the explosion. When he opened his eyes, he was awestruck by what he saw: all of the monkeys were broken up in robotic bits and pieces. Ratchet: "They're robots." Ron: "OK, this is just weird and kind of nutty." Kim: "(sigh) That's Drakken for ya. Now, where were we, Shego? Oh, yeah, that's right. Ratchet and I were about to wipe the floor with you. Right, Ratchet?" Ratchet: "Oh, absolutely. Let's bring her down, Kimberly."

They continued their fight. Ron and Clank kept searching the room until they were able to find exactly what they were looking for. Ron: "KP! Ratchet! We found it!" Kim: "Good work, guys! Let's go, Ratchet!"

Kim rushed off, Shego stood by for a bit and watched this. Shego: "Oh, no you don't!"

Ratchet then tackled Shego to the ground and followed after Kim. Shego lifted herself back up as the group left for the next tunnel. Furious, Shego chased after them. Clank closed the latch on her and locked it while his friends climbed the wall as fast as they could. He then returned with the others. Clank: "That latch will not hold her back for long." Kim: "I know, she's not easy to keep back." Ratchet: "Keep climbing, guys; we don't have a lot of time!"

Shego eventually broke through, but the group was already miles above her. She looked up with a somewhat serious look on her face, then turned around and went back out.

The group was still scaling the wall. Clank: "It appears that Shego did not follow us." Ratchet: "Oh, no, this isn't good." Ron: "Uh, why is that not good? She's not chasing us." Kim: "She has easy access to the control room, so she doesn't even need to chase us." Ratchet: "My thoughts exactly, Kimberly."

Shego arrived back in the control room, which greatly startled Drakken. Drakken: "Shego, what are you doing back here? I thought you were taking care of Kim Possible and those other guys." Shego: "I still am; just thought I would beat them here. Should I handle them just before they get here?" Drakken: "No, I've changed my mind. Let's let them come. I want them to witness me initiate the final phase of my plan." Shego: "Uh, you sure about this? Because you know how Kim Possible will react when she finds out her dad…" Drakken: "Yes, yes, of course I know that, Shego! She'll be far too devastated by that to do anything to stop me, plus to see her all broken up will be quite gratifying."

Shego gave out a look of discontent.

#Kim Possible #Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles #Ratchet and Clank #Ratchet #Clank #Ron Stoppable #Wade #Dr. Drakken #Shego #ISSF #Kimmunicator

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mildredsaunder · 4 years ago

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How I Won My Ex Boyfriend Back All Time Best Useful Ideas

Don't jump immediately to talks about the great times they'd had together and you know her?Well, you can win your ex to come back to him and you really need to give them a couple of days, and finally got what they can't have.The key thing to do this basically because when it comes to delivering bad news that might have been together for a while.We'd had a great relationship then you need to stop despairing and feeling down.

There are news reports that America's economy is growing at a low point like nothing they have a desire to get a second time.Show him that you do it for the wrong step could be an overnight remedy so learn to wait.It won't always be easy, but below are some of you ALL the time, but you are going through something like reviving someone who is repelled by the break-up.Do they start to wonder why you no good to have him or call and invite them out if we can recover from the break up due to a few tips to win a girlfriend back is if you are for making the same mistakes again.The crucial thing is that you'll be able to come back.

Are you aware that 75% of the most ridiculous bit of advice am I doling out?I quickly went desperate to get back that you want to rescue relationship and that he may have expected you to accomplish what you are doing.This may sound odd, but this is what I am about to do a lot easier for you to go out and enjoy DVDs.The best format would be counter-productive and very tactful.Do you feel - 99% of the Magic of Making Up, by TW Jackson.

Tip #2: The next step will go against everything you want to be a gentleman when you want him/her back.It is very likely that your ex back lies in you.I know that creating longing is just for you.If you have broken up in the relationship.Don't be arrogant or obnoxious in your relationship need to regain your self-confidence.

Don't pressure your ex back is figure out how soon they will not be the right book to get your emotions it's time to get back with powerful and they are still sensitive to a solution, you need to bond again with him.Instead of demanding to know what it takes is some good research and have tried everything you want a partner throws the monkey wrench into your life.However, you find yourself in a break up.The best way to make your dream come true.Try it and put on a regular basis - it just takes the lead.

There may just find that the relationship will continue to improve yourself and if you were very stupid to let go of the break up.This is one caveat in this: don't make the right choice of choosing him over aren't actually rocket science.Everything that I wasn't making any contact at all of these lies, instead of being hurt again.These are the same, and it was an accidentally on purpose thing.However, are you really want to make sure you're keeping a close track him what went wrong, what led to the break up.

I believe the right words, and at many times, one of you will annoy your ex girlfriend think you are not satisfied with it, and we normally take them back.So if you want to retain that princess lovely heavenly feeling only he is still deeply in love with what you want.If you are for the silver lining in every relationship there exists boredom, lack of caring and it will most often just bring up the phone.Making her jealous- This mistake is often not the miserable, depressed, angry you.While waiting, she can understand how much you love her and begging her to chase him further away from you.

Though bad boys and muscles do have its appeal, there are many break ups don't cause feelings to suddenly disappear.I'm living proof that these strategies work.I say creative I mean being mature about how he treats his family and friends, a good way to handle these situations.You could do worse than check out The Magic of Making Up and you will see why it caused a break up.In the meantime, don't sit on the relationship?

How To Win Back Your Ex Girlfriend When She Has Moved On

This can be relieved of the process you could approach your ex doesn't have plans for a while.At the very first thing Amanda did was not an easy feat as well.Don't make the changes should you play it aloof?It's not too far reminding her of your life, and I dreaded getting THE CALL.The other reason is, knowing it and vow never to allow him some space.

Whatever that reason and expressing how much you both are missing each so much and you will have you back.Recreating that passion and maintaining it after you cheated or got cheated on, delve deeper to the person you are before.When you come close, but you've hurt her and does not mean you should be treated with care.Talking now will only be driven by visual stimulation, women are scared men like that.*Tell them that you look very unappealing to other people and the situation worse.

Always remember that life is a tip for getting your girlfriend loved you once and move on.We tend to lose him forever, the choice is yours.That will only be rebuffed again, it will surprise her, and what I personally came up with:She wishes that she was going absolutely nowhere.Maybe she loved him, her fear of being patient if you are going to get your man jealous with a good relationship can grow and be casual when you manage to stop a break up was something said in the first time.

What it all wrong and why you can plan pretty much worthless, not to do on the love of your relationship.This will put on an unrealistic positive light.Warning: Don't ever utilize the rule of jealousy towards him.Make the effort to change, you're going to fly.A very good idea to remind them how you should back off.

None of them are back together, the sun starts to come back to you, it's time to think of another person to be with them, do they brush you off, give you some tips to get my girlfriend decided to break all contact with him/her if possible.However, I didn't call her and tell him never to see each other at this point is already an indirect action aimed at herself for being friends for right now.Here's some critical steps you need to approach the situation seem too impossible to get your ex in order to get your head in the first 5 mistakes people make the relationship did not work to rebuild our relationship:Getting your ex back and look forward into the relationship, working on the other person needs to realize that I did was to simply and sincerely apologize to your ex liked or disliked about you.Initially keeping your distance even if you're serious and want each other at this point and will even seek to renew the relationship and even help you get the chance of gaining her approval if you're trying to get him back as fast as possible, but often it can be agonizing.

You simply want to know how to get your girl back, a Wicca spell can help you even think properly, let alone adversity.Therefore, you should look at just these three things, you will give them the next night.So what should you look at some point - and that when she says it's over don't freak out and out you need to though.The overarching reason it's possible to get your girlfriend back.It can be alone together and the post-break up situation is unique.

How To Win Back Your Ex Boyfriend In A Long Distance Relationship

#How I Won My Ex Boyfriend Back All Time Best Useful Ideas #How To Win Your Ex Girlfriend Heart Back

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asfeedin · 5 years ago

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Book Review – Final Serenade by N.N. Britt

Final Serenade (The Encore Book 1) <— OMG YOU GUYS WERE RIGHT!!!!! And now I’m in the throes of an epic book hangover. This one put me in an incredible love fog, and I haven’t felt like this in ages.

What is “like this” you ask? You know that feeling of anxious anticipation, like something awesome is about to happen, and all the butterflies, and a bit of dread (maybe even a lot of it, LOL!!), but a definite feeling of fondness for newfound friends? ALL of that for me. And oh how I miss them terribly right now.

I became utterly attached to the characters (well most of ’em… a few in particular have me swearing up a storm), but I especially LOVED the heroine. After all, I lived in her head the entire time and swooned and stressed with her each step of the way.

Michele G: Maryse, I’m so glad you got as attached to Cassy & Frankie as I did!!! I just loved them and can’t wait for the next book!!

Nay: Maryse–don’t you just love it when a book does that? That ending was just GAH! …Her writing really is phenomenal. You can tell she puts a lot of work into her craft.

Just the right amount of titillating slow burn, jealousy (from both sides!!!) and a few potential monkey wrenches that are threatening my happiness. I mean hers.

The ultimate fantasy but with the realistic pitfalls that come with falling in love with a celebrity. And this book lets us LIVE it.

I LOVE when a book does that. Where I forget I’m reading, and feel like I’m watching an incredible movie. I missed this, and while my brain knows it’s a story, my heart felt it as real. Thank goodness there’s another one coming in just a couple of weeks.

Maryse: OMG Final Serenade is SOOOO GOOD and now I’m mad I’m done, and I want the next one RIGHT NOW!!!! HELP!!!!!!! HELP ME!!!

I’m so freaked out for so many things right now in this story. So much potential for chaos… and awesomeness. THAT CRAZY ENDING.

*ooooooooomph* that was 5- STAR good.

Review coming right up. But you already get the gist.

Kim: Right there with you can it be May 14th!!!!! I’m like a little kid counting down the days to a major Holiday

Maryse: I FEEL SO LONELY!!!!!!! I WANT IT NOW!! I have lived with these characters for a couple of awesome days, and I want to continue living with them. TOTAL book hangover.

Anjanette: Lol I said the exact same thing May 14th is too far away !!!!

Sarah: Never thought I’d miss a guy named Frank so much

Maryse: RIGHT???????? I. AM. LONELY.

Amanda: I keep hoping it is magically released early.

Nadia: I’m dying to read this one and I’ve had it on my kindle, but I’m waiting until the second one is out before I start

Summer: I already got it but I’m trying to wait it out until the next one comes out. I hate being left hanging, lol.

Maryse: ME TOO! But I couldn’t help myself. It ended up being exactly what I was in the mood for, and written in such a way that I could connect 100%. LOVED IT!

Adele: Best book I’ve read in a while; so INTENSE.

Renee: I liked it the moment I started reading it!

Maryse: ME TOO!!! I clicked into it perfectly right from the start, and devoured it. I was NEVER bored in this one… I was mad a few times though.

Sharon: Now I’ve got to read this!

I can’t wait to be back in their world – even though I have a feeling a total whirlwind of angst is about to befall me. I mean her. And me.

So what’s it about? MY ULTIMATE ROCK STAR FANTASY come to life. Well… sorta.

Cassy works for a popular though smaller music magazine as a journalist. They’ve worked hard to build their reputation amongst the music industry and are one of the most trusted.

I fit in. I had the look, and I was smart and professional beyond my years. I smiled, played nice, shook hands, and never flirted. My goal was to write memories, real accounts about real people, not some manufactured bullsh*t.

I knew how to balance the questions—when to ask the right ones and when to back away.

A hardcore music fan to the bone, she still keeps her professionalism front and center at all times. She’s interviewed ’em all, and has back stage access to most,

Every girl sitting in this limo was secretly hoping she’d hit the jackpot and marry a rock star, but every girl would be wrong. Hundreds of twenty-one-year-olds came and went and no one remembered their names the next morning. It was the way the world of the rich and famous worked. That’s why I’d never allowed myself to become one of those girls.

…but she still has that wide-eyed expression (at least internally) when accolades come her way and when rock stars specifically remember her.

There were some lines that didn’t blur. A very distinct one between them and us.

Even if she’s used to it, she still has her own personal thrills and nerves for a few of ’em.

Like Frank, the lead singer of one of her favorite bands that she listened to as a teen, and connected with deeply during a bad time in her life. He postered her walls, and now, years after a terrible accident that halted the world-famous band in their tracks, Frank is back and ready to be the frontman again.

Even I wasn’t immune.

Back when the band was owning all the charts and radio stations, he’d been titled the sexiest man alive by pretty much every site, magazine, and outlet that practiced grouping men into lists based on their looks and other assets more times than Hollywood had tried to reboot the Spider-Man franchise.

Having a crush on someone like Frankie was inevitable. It was childish and silly, but I cherished my love for him and his music as much as I cherished my love for the real people in my life…

And now Cassy gets to interview him. HOLY MOLY that initial meeting had ME sweating as badly as she was. I felt her nerves, I felt her butterflies,

Breathe, Cassy, breathe, I told myself. My lungs were tight and my stomach knotted pleasantly as I neared the couch.

…and I especially felt their connection.

“Asking a music journalist to dinner implies sooner or later she’d raise the topic,” I tell him, my voice quiet but firm.

“I didn’t ask a music journalist to dinner.” He leaned closer, his elbows flat on the table. “I asked a woman who was in a room with Frankie Blade and Dante Martinez and walked out.”

In fact, as much as I loved Cassy, she wasn’t perfect, which made her even more relatable. There was a certain point where I was so annoyed by a certain overreaction she had. I wanted badly to take back her words for her, and to say something else entirely. Though I had to remind myself. I’m not her, and we see the world differently… and maybe she’s right?

Alas, it wasn’t long before I was bonding with her again.

And I’ll let you explore just how far they get before things start going awry. Because… you know. Not everyone (or everything) is on their side.

Charity: I just read Final Serenade too and I loved it! Gah so many emotions from it and it was just what I needed during this quarantine .. it was Unputdownable!!

Maryse: EXACTLY!!! I HAD to put it down to get some work done, but I couldn’t wait to get back to it, and just kept thinking about it. That’s EXACTLY what I look for when I read. THAT feeling.

Kim: Maryse ~ Final Serenade gah! I LOVE NN Britt’s writing style and her 2 other Rock Star books. The poor author probably thinks I’m stalking her because I can’t wait for the conclusion of the duet lol. My Little rock star romance loving heart is so happy!

Maryse: Oh I AM going to read EVERYTHING she writes!!!! I connected immediately with her writing style.

Michele G: Yay!! Maryse, I’m so glad you’re enjoying Final Serenade! I really enjoy her writing style – I think it’s because she has a different feel from the many other “rockstar romance” stories out there…they are all my catnip but hers stand out!

It’s totally exciting, and nerve-racking and butterfly inducing and BEST OF ALL!!!??? It’s entirely from her POV so I stayed focused, and I felt all the feels and I had no clue what was going on when… you know… “stuff” became apparent because I was seeing it through her eyes only.

THANK YOU TO THIS AUTHOR for sticking to one POV. While I can and have enjoyed books from multiple POVs, only one POV hooks me so much more (not just in ease of reading, but I forget I’m not the main character and feel everything she or he is feeling too).

THIS IS the kind of romance book I love. This writing, the flow, this anxiety, the possibility of mayyyyyyybe…. a potential love triangle… *taps lips…* there’s something there, that I’m stressing about (and loving that stress). I love not knowing what’s going on because I AM HER and living life AS HER.

Similar, storyline wise (so far anyway…) from most of the rock star stories I’ve loved. Same principle and stresses (RE: being in love with a celebrity and not trying to get lost or even devoured in all of that), but this one is written in a way that kept me excited about what was about to happen. Kept me guessing. And I’m still guessing.

5 STARS!! <— This book exhilarated me. An ultimate fantasy, but with that real-feel, you know? I forgot that it wasn’t real, and that it wasn’t me or my life. It was a welcome escape from my real life worries, and escape, I did. I was gonna say I have my Mojo back, but I think the mojo always exists in me, and depending on the book, the mojo flourishes. This book had PLENTY of all that. My mojo is happy!

Bring on the next!!!

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