#I’m always shy about a new work and terrified in one I haven’t posted before | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

curlynerd · 3 years ago

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Just Say It

Happy gift posting day for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! I had two assignees, so I'm posting two fics today! My 2nd gift recipient is @deanwinchesteradjacent! She requested canon-adjacent Destiel with fluff, action, and a happy ending. I hope you like it! <3

Word Count: 7.5K Rating: T Summary: A string of violent deaths at an otherwise charming B&B was all the excuse Dean needed to drag Cas down to Florida for some fun in the sun. Things had been awkward since Cas came back from the Empty and they could finally be together, but Dean was sure that a romantic getaway was the perfect thing to help Cas get out of the training wheels stage of Angel's-First-Romance and start acting like a real couple. Just as soon as they took care of a vengeful spirit. What could possibly go wrong? Notes: Post canon, fix-it fic, oneshot, love confessions, Dean is bad at feelings, case fic, beach fic.

Also read it on AO3!

“Alright, I’m heading out.”

“Did you pack deodorant?”

“Dean…”

“Toothpaste? Mouthwash?”

“...”

“Those fancy hair products? Cuz there’s just. So. Many--”

“Dean! I’ve lived my whole life on the road. I know how to pack a damn dufflebag!”

Dean smirked, unperturbed by Sam’s whining. “Yeah but Eileen is a classy lady. She’s not gonna put up with your usual road stank.”

Sam sighed in annoyance as he readjusted the bag on his shoulder. “I’m not the one who wears his underwear three days in a row, jerk.”

“Better leave that attitude at home, bitch,” Dean said cheerfully. “It’s your anniversary, after all.”

Sam’s mouth twitched into a shy grin despite his best efforts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be on my best behavior,” he said, letting Dean have one last bit of fun before he left. “You and Cas too. Don’t get into trouble.” He nodded in farewell before he climbed the stairs to the bunker door.

“Oh, and Sammy?”

Sam paused at the top of the stairs and turned around. Almost like he could sense what was coming, his eyebrow twitched in irritation. Dean hucked a box up to the landing, and Sam fumbled to catch it. Dean flashed a shit-eating grin as Sam read the Trojan label and fixed him with a scowl. “Make sure you wrap it before you tap it, Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he walked out the door.

Dean laughed to himself as he turned back to his laptop, scrolling through news articles looking for a hunt. He was still at it an hour later when Cas came shuffling into the room still in his pajamas, two cups of coffee in hand.

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” Dean crooned cheerfully. Cas’ hair was in wild disarray, and between that and his worn, brown sweatshirt and loose pajama bottoms, he looked more like a bear stumbling out of hibernation than a guy just waking up. “Sam already left.”

Cas set a mug down in front of Dean before slumping down into the chair beside him. “I hope he and Eileen have fun this week,” he mumbled as he hunched over his coffee.

Dean smiled at how adorable Cas looked, all grumpy and sleep-ruffled. He was still an angel...somewhat. He had Grace, if only a little. So close to mortality, Cas often needed mundane human things like sleep and food. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about it. In fact, he was so irritated about the whole thing that Dean hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to invite him to sleep in his room, instead of alone. Dean chewed on his lower lip. Maybe after this case, things would change.

“Are you looking up a case?” Cas asked, tilting toward Dean’s screen.

“Uh...yeah.” With forced casualness, Dean turned the laptop so Cas could read a headline from last year: “Gruesome Death at Bed and Breakfast Leaves Locals Worried.” “Over the past forty years, there’ve been six deaths at this B&B. All either heart attacks or a brain hemorrhage. All without a scratch on ‘em. Always a couple. Always on the same night: this Friday. That sure screams ‘ghost’ to me.”

“Key West?” Cas asked as he scanned the article. “Florida? That’s quite a drive.”

Dean shrugged. His fingers tapped against the tabletop. “It is, but hell, why not? Sam gets the week off with Eileen, why can’t we have a little vacation too?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. He was suspicious. Was a little time off really so bad? “You haven’t taken a vacation the entire time I’ve known you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dean struggled to come up with a good excuse. “That was, ya know. Before.”

“Before,” Cas repeated stiffly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Before everything.” He gestured around his head. Before Cas told him he loved him and immediately died. Before Dean rescued him from The Empty. Before they wound up in this awkward, stilted Angel’s-First-Romance training wheels relationship Dean found them in.

That seemed to placate Cas. He nodded and took another sip of coffee. “The beach would be nice…”

Dean broke into a grin. “Better than nice! Toes in the sand, drinks with little umbrellas… That’s better than paradise.” He gave Cas’ shoulder a friendly pat. Then--because he could, couldn’t he?--Dean let his hand run along the broad expanse of Cas’ shoulder and gently cup the back of his neck.

This was okay, right? He’d held back on any sort of real PDA because of how uncomfortable Cas would act. And that was okay. He understood. Angels and intimacy...Well, angels just worked differently than humans. And it was all new to Cas! It took him over a decade to say he loved Dean. It would probably take awhile before he was ready to hold hands.

But this wasn’t very much, right? Just a light hand on the back of his neck. This was about as innocent as things got!

Except Cas went stiff under Dean, and Dean took the hint and pulled his hand away as he bit back a sigh. So much for that.

His eyes trailed back to his laptop. Hopefully this getaway would change things, help Cas loosen up and finally see that they could act even a little like a couple now. A romantic beach, warm sunshine, half-naked romps in the water, a cozy and only slightly haunted bed and breakfast…

What could go wrong?

----

Three days and one slightly terrifying highway over the ocean later, Dean and Cas pulled into a parking space for a charming bed and breakfast painted in a lovely pale--

“Lavender?” Dean balked at the decidedly dainty color of the siding. “I know they like their pastels here, but geez…”

“It’s just a paint color,” Cas said as he crossed around to the trunk and started unloading their bags. The duffle full of salt, shotguns, and various iron weapons clanked ominously. He shouldered it carefully so it wouldn’t make so much noise.

“This whole street is like friggin’ Candy Land.” Dean eyeballed the canary yellow house across the street suspiciously as they made their way to the front door.

The inside was clearly the result of a scandalous love affair between a Jimmy Buffet concert and a Hallmark store--All tacky tropical themed furniture and a dizzying array of porcelain figurines.

Dean grinned from ear to ear and elbowed Cas. At Cas’ inquisitive eyebrow, Dean nodded his head to a shelf full of long-haired, sad-eyed blonde angels. Cas rolled his eyes while Dean laughed to himself.

“Hello! Can I help you?” An older woman sat behind a small reception desk, smiling warmly at them in the glow of her ancient computer.

Dean put on his best people-pleasing smile. “Yes you can. Hi, I’m Dean, and this is my, uh…” Dean glanced over to Cas and his eyes crinkled in delight. “Cas. This is my boyfriend, Cas.” Just the word caused a giddy bubble of effervescence to float inside Dean’s chest. After all this time, they were really here. This was real.

Cas offered the receptionist a small, tight smile before turning his studious gaze to the figurines on the wall shelves. The woman furrowed her brow, so Dean charged forward with the conversation before Cas’ awkwardness put her off. If they were going to pry into the case here, they needed her to be friendly with them. “I booked a reservation for this weekend. It--Are you guys still open? It’s kinda quiet in here.” Dean glanced around the empty living space. There weren’t any other cars parked outside either.

The woman waved off his concerns. “Oh yes, it’s just the off season right now. Some weekends are like that.” She spoke a little too quickly as she clicked through her computer. Dean suspected all the news articles about bloody deaths had something to do with it. “Not hard to find your reservation. You’re our only guests tonight.” She grabbed two keys off a hook and held them out for Dean. “You’ll be in room 4, down at the end of the hallway upstairs. It’s the largest one. If you need extra towels or anything, let me know. I’m Susan.”

Sensing they were about to be dismissed, Dean swerved into a distraction. “You know, we’ve been on the road for ages. Do you have any coffee or anything like that? A little wakeup before we hit the beach?”

Susan pushed back from the desk. “Oh of course! I was about to get some for myself, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, Cas,” Dean muttered as Susan disappeared down a hallway. “Anything out of place or really old. You know, haunted stuff.” Cas nodded, and Dean covertly pulled his EMF reader out of his jacket pocket and flicked it on. It was silent. They both made a pass of the room, pretending to look around.

“Here we are!” Susan said brightly, expertly holding three coffee mugs in her hands. Dean jumped a little and hastily put his device away before turning around. “I hope cream and sugar is okay.”

“Any caffeine is fine,” he assured her as he and Cas took their mugs. “So Susan, what is there to do around here? You know, other than what Yelp says. The insider’s scoop.” Dean winked as he took a sip of his coffee.

Susan smiled. “Well, if nightlife is your thing, there are some great spots within walking distance.”

Dean chuckled. “C’mon, Susan. Does this guy look like much of a dancer?” He grinned fondly at Cas as he draped his arm over his shoulders. It was ridiculous how much his stomach fluttered from the small action, but dammit, after all they’d been through to get here, Dean had earned a few butterflies. He squeezed Cas’ shoulder even though Cas didn’t really react. Dean was definitely going to have to clarify that the personal space rule didn’t apply anymore.

“Well, the restaurant down the street also does an excellent brunch,” Susan offered instead.

“Now that’s more our speed.” Maybe if the hunt went well they could actually stay the night, instead of getting the hell out of Dodge before the cops chased them down. Keep their salt and burn quiet and enjoy a nice night in. Dean tried not to get his hopes up for sharing a bed with Cas.

And he did mean sharing a bed. Things were moving so slowly between him and Cas he’d be thrilled just to spoon, nevermind anything else. Dean bit back a sigh as he swept over all of the knick-knacks and decorations, hoping for some sort of clue as to the identity of their ghost. “I’ve gotta say, I love the decor. Is all of this your collection?” Maybe a haunted object? Or a cursed one?

“Most of it.” A faint twinge of wistfulness colored Susan’s words as she looked over the porcelain figurines. “My Marcy liked to collect the angels, but that was years and years ago.”

On a high shelf was a large urn next to an oil painting of a young woman that immediately pinged Dean’s hunter’s instincts. “That’s a lovely painting over there,” he said, catching Cas’ eye meaningfully. Cas turned around to look too.

Susan’s face melted into a quiet, sad smile. “Yes, that’s my Marcy right there. A self-portrait. She was such a talented artist.”

Cas tilted his head. “She was your...wife?” he guessed.

Susan’s face crumpled. “No. No we were never…” She took a deep breath and continued in a steadier tone. “She was my business partner, but I loved her. Very much. And I knew she loved me too. So I suppose you could say we were almost together. Should have been together.” Her lower lip trembled.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what stopped you?” Dean felt bad for pressing her for information that was clearly upsetting, but people’s lives were at stake. Possibly Susan’s own.

Susan curled her hands around her mug, staring into the steaming coffee with a far off look in her eyes. “I was afraid. Of my own feelings. Of opening myself to getting hurt. So I...When Marcy needed me to be honest about how I felt I...I let her down. She got mad...We fought...She ran off. There was an accident, and...Well...” Susan took another deep breath. Her eyes were glassy with tears and heavy with regret. “Today is the anniversary of the day she died.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dean said, injecting even more sincerity into his words even though he expected as much. Marcy was the best lead so far. Was she attacking people on the anniversary of her death? She was obviously cremated, but perhaps there was something keeping her tied here?

“Not your fault,” she said with the heaviness of one who had heard those words hundreds of times. She shook her head. “You’re not the reason she--” Susan cut herself off and swallowed down her tears. Despite her best efforts, a single tear trailed down her cheek.

“It sounds like you loved her very much,” Cas said, his voice infused with genuine sympathy.

“She was my world. I loved her more than she’ll ever know...” Again Susan fell silent, this time lost in thought.

Then, with a deep, resettling breath, she wiped at her eyes with the edge of her finger and forced a cheerful expression. “But enough of that. You’re my guests. You don’t need to hear all of that! Do you need anything while you get settled in? More towels? Recommendations for restaurants?”

Dean shook his head, “Appreciate it ma’am, but we’ll probably just grab whatever’s convenient around here.”

“Well, would you like to eat here? Usually I don’t serve dinner for guests, but since it’s only the two of you, I can cook up something if you’d like. I honestly wouldn’t mind the company.”

Sensing another opportunity to interview Susan, Dean smiled his very best ‘comforting the bereaved’ smile. “We’d like that very much, Susan. Thank you for offering.” Then, carefully timed almost like an afterthought, he added, “Oh, and what’s the wifi password?”

Upstairs their room was somewhat small but airy. The walls were a crisp, breezy blue, the linens bright white. There was even a gauzy white canopy draped around the four-poster bed. Dean grinned. One bed. Surely that was cause for some optimism about tonight.

“I dunno about you, but I’m gonna sleep like a log tonight,” he said with the most casual tone he could muster as he grabbed the weapons bag off Cas’ shoulder and deposited it on the duvet. “What about you? Think you’ll need a couple z’s?” ‘Please say yes.’

Cas eyed the bed. Something strange flickered across his face. Something heavy, even sad. Dean immediately felt like a jackass for reminding Cas about his weak Grace. “I mean, who knows how you’ll feel tonight,” Dean added hastily. He started digging through his bag for his laptop. “Get some sea air in your lungs, and you might wake right up.”

Cas pursed his lips. “I suppose so,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. He turned away from Dean and started roaming the room, looking over the artwork on the walls and the little beachy decorations on the furniture. He came to a stop.

“This looks like Susan and Marcy,” he said, letting his fingers trail along the frame of a painting over the dresser.

“Yeah?” Dean looked up from his booting laptop. It was an oil painting like the one downstairs, with a young couple in bright dresses making each other laugh in front of a backdrop of a stormy gray ocean. One was undeniably a much younger Susan. Marcy looked the same as she did in the painting downstairs.

Cas frowned a little and pulled his hand back from the frame. He glanced around the ceiling and only relaxed when he saw an air-conditioning vent gently humming nearby. Dean shrugged it off and turned back to his laptop. He set right to work searching through the local newspaper archives and breaking into the coroner’s office servers. Finding their ghost was only a matter of time.

“Got it. Marcy Daniels. Died forty-three years ago tonight.” Dean flipped his laptop around so Cas could read the news article. “Hit by a car. Right outside this house. Died before she even got to the hospital.”

Cas squinted at the screen. The photo attached to the article looked just like the woman in the paintings. “And you think she’s the ghost?”

Dean shrugged. “Seems as good a guess as any. Violent death. Susan said they were fighting right before. Probably something happened between them that left Marcy pissed off enough to stay in the veil.”

Cas nodded. “We should ask her about it.”

“Nah, she’s not gonna let us grill her about her dead partner like that. We’ll strike up a conversation at dinner. That should give us enough time to figure out what’s keeping Marcy here before she attacks tonight.”

Cas deferred to Dean’s hunting experience. “Well then what should we do until then?”

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “What do you think we should do? To the beach!”

---

Dean shut the trunk of the Impala and straightened his back, lifting his face to the breeze blowing in from the sea. He breathed in deeply. “God, smell that salt air…” he said with a wistful smile. When he turned to Cas, the angel was looking at him with fondness, warmth making his blue eyes brighter. Dean’s smile grew, and he lifted up his sunglasses to flash Cas a playful wink. Cas quickly ducked his head and started walking.

Dean bit back a groan as he followed behind him with their beach bag. What was he doing wrong? He was trying to be gentle, to give Cas enough space to adjust to the idea that they were together now on his own. After all of the crap they’d been through together, after so many things keeping them apart, he understood why Cas was struggling. Hell, he’d been squashing down his feelings for so long, Cas probably didn’t know how to let himself have this happiness.

At least, that was what Dean kept telling himself. Deep down, though, he was afraid that Cas’ feelings were changing.

“There’s a good spot,” Dean said, jogging up behind Cas and forcing down his depressing thoughts before they could meet up with his self-loathing and really cause problems. He grabbed Cas’ arm and tugged him toward an unoccupied part of the sand. The weather was a little too temperamental this time of year to attract huge crowds, but there were still plenty of people out enjoying the sunshine.

Cas let himself be led, his flip-flops flapping awkwardly over the sand. Dean laughed a little, even though his footing wasn’t much better. When they’d walked far enough away from the boardwalk, Dean unceremoniously dropped their bag and dug out a large blanket to lay out.

“Perfect,” he declared as he tipped up his sunglasses to survey his work. He plopped down on the blanket and shucked off his shirt. A quick glance up let him catch the way Cas’ eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression smoothed over. Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Cas, but he didn’t see because he turned around like a friggin’ Victorian lady in order to pull off his own shirt before he sat down in front of Dean, facing the ocean. Dean’s gaze swept down the broad, muscular expanse of Cas’ back, and he could barely contain the heat in his eyes and in his grin.

Only then did Cas glance over his shoulder and catch Dean’s eye. Dean bit his lip suggestively, his grin widening, but Cas’ cheeks turned lightly pink and turned his head away. He rubbed at the back of his neck. Nervous, huh? Well that was alright. Dean could lighten the mood.

He held up the bottle of sunscreen. “Alright, let’s spackle your back.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dean,” Cas said, not turning around. His voice sounded even more gruff than usual, which was certainly saying something.

“Nonsense!” Dean was already squirting a healthy dollop of sunscreen in his palm. “You can get sunburned, same as the rest of us.”

Cas sighed heavily. His shoulders twitched, tense, but he didn’t protest when Dean slapped his hand at the middle of his back.

Dean set to work rubbing the cream into Cas’ warm skin. “See? This is nice. It’s like a mini-massage.” He made sure to move slowly, almost caressing him. His stomach fluttered with the faintest whisper of excitement. This was the closest thing he’d gotten to action in months, after all. And Cas’ back was nice. Broad and firm and far more muscular than Dean would have guessed. His heart did a little tapdance at knowing that he was allowed to freely ogle now.

“I like seeing you out of the trenchcoat,” Dean said, now using both hands to stroke up and down Cas’ skin. Cas tensed again. “I mean, you look good under all those layers,” Dean said hastily, afraid that the reminder of his waning Grace was too painful. “When did you get so beefy?” Dean slid his hands up to Cas’ shoulders and then down his thick arms. He squeezed them playfully as he shifted closer, letting his knees bump against him.

He leaned in close so he could almost whisper, “Wish I could see it somewhere other than the beach.”

Cas’ back became hard as marble. He lowered his head. “That’s enough, Dean,” he said softly. His voice trembled with some barely contained emotion Dean didn’t understand.

Disappointment rose up Dean’s throat like bile. “Seriously? I’m almost done!”

Cas twisted around, his face pulled into a scowl. His cheeks were flushed. “Dean! I’m an angel! I don’t need this!”

Dean pulled back. “What? I can’t even put sunscreen on you now?” he demanded.

Cas didn’t have an answer to that. He only glared, his eyes flickering with something Dean couldn’t quite figure out. Pain? Longing? Regret?

Knowing Dean’s penchant for screwing things up all the time, it was almost certainly the latter.

Cas breathed out a long, frustrated breath and rose to his feet. “I’m...going for a walk,” he said. He folded his arms over his bare chest.

“Cas,” Dean pleaded. What had he done wrong? Why was Cas so mad?

Cas shook his head. “Please, Dean.” With one last glance filled with that strange, heartache-inducing emotion, Cas turned and started walking down the beach alone.

Dean stared after him as he left. “What the hell?” he said under his breath. The sting of rejection quietly throbbed in his chest as he turned his gaze to the ocean. What had he done to piss Cas off? Had he really crossed a boundary, or was something else wrong? Cas had been so weird since he’d been back. Shouldn’t he be happy? Hell, telling Dean he loved him was the happiest Cas had ever been, right? That was part of his deal with The Empty!

Did he regret it? Did he change his mind? Maybe Cas really didn’t want to have Dean. Not for real. Maybe that was why Cas never told him how he felt before. He had to have known Dean loved him long before his deal with The Empty came along. Maybe there was a reason Cas hadn’t said anything about it before.

Maybe Cas knew that Dean would screw things up if they got together. Maybe he was trying to pull away from Dean, make it easier to break things off when it all came crashing down.

Dean stewed in his thoughts, his expression dark as he watched the waves. He lost track of time until a pair of children came racing past him, screaming in delight and startling him out of his thoughts. He pulled at his phone to glance at the time. Cas had been gone over half an hour. Way too long. Dean looked down the beach, almost expecting to see Cas trudging back up the beach back to him, but he didn’t see any sign of him. But Cas couldn’t have left left. Dean had the car keys! Quietly cursing, Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Cas’ number.

...And heard a familiar ringtone coming out of their bag.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean growled as he hung up. He stood up, but he still couldn’t see Cas. Had something happened? What if he’d gone in the water? What if he’d gotten pulled out to sea by a riptide? Despite knowing Cas didn’t even know how to swim, worry dripped ice cold down Dean’s spine, and before he knew it he was walking down the beach along the path Cas had taken.

“Cas!” he called out, but he didn’t see him. Dean started walking faster. He scanned the beach for a familiar dark head of hair and the bright orange swim trunks Dean had picked out for him. “CAS!” He was beginning to fear the worst.

“You lookin’ for someone?” a concerned voice called out. Dean whipped his head around to a small family sitting underneath an umbrella.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, my buddy Cas.” Dean jogged over to them. “You see him walk by? Kinda beefy, kinda dorky. Dark hair, orange trunks, about yea high.” He held his palm flat about eye level.

The woman who spoke nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I saw him walking back toward town, though.” She pointed over her shoulder.

Dean furrowed his brow. Did Cas walk back on his own? Irritation flared in his chest as he forced a cordial smile and thanked the woman before jogging back the way he came. He didn’t see any sign of Cas back at their blanket either.

Dean scowled. Maybe he had walked back. Running off without a word was infuriatingly in-character for him. Dean cursed under his breath as he hastily packed up their things and started stomping up the beach toward the car.

What was even such a big deal? If Cas supposedly loved him so much, was rubbing his back that bad? Dean was trying to give him space, he really was, but the way Cas was acting, it was like he didn’t even like Dean, nevermind love him!

The thought clenched tight around Dean’s heart as he drove back to the bed and breakfast. Maybe he didn’t anymore. Maybe Cas was getting sick of him. Twelve years in each other’s lives, it was bound to happen eventually.

Maybe what angels considered love and what humans considered love was just different.

Dark thoughts still swirled in Dean’s head as he returned to the bed and breakfast and marched up the stairs.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean charged into their room, anger burning hot as his glare zeroed in on the angel sitting in a chair. “You can’t just go running off like that! You left your phone behind!”

Cas carefully closed the book he was reading. He was fully clothed again. “It’s not a long walk back here. I assumed you’d know where I’d gone.”

“I was worried sick about you! What if you went in the ocean and something happened?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that. You know I can’t swim.”

“You can’t just go stomping off whenever you get mad!”

Cas closed his eyes. “I’m not mad,” he said, though the growl in his voice suggested otherwise.

“Like hell you’re not!” Dean shot back. “So what is it? I can’t touch you now? It’s freakin’ sunscreen, Cas. Is it really that big of a deal?”

Cas’ eyes flew open. “Yes!” he said, deeply pained. “Dean, does it really matter so little to you that you’re okay with just ignoring it?”

Dean was brought up short. “Does what matter?”

“Me!” Cas plastered his hand over his chest. He almost looked like he could cry. “I told you how I felt and you insist on acting like nothing happened!”

Dean blinked. “What? That’s...that’s not true, Cas!”

“Dean! You didn’t say anything! Not once since you brought me back, have you said anything about the fact that I love you! And you may think that by ignoring it and trying to force things back the way they were before that you can lock up that Pandora’s Box again, but you can’t! I can’t. I can’t…”

Dean took a step forward, his expression darkening with confusion. “Cas, what’re you talking about?” He didn’t understand. Why did Cas look so hurt? So heartbroken? Cas loved him. Dean loved Cas. So why wasn’t he happy? What had Dean done wrong? “Cas, I--”

Cold mist curled up from Dean’s mouth.

They both went tense and still as they noticed just how cold the room had gotten. The lamp on the bedside table flickered.

“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath. His eyes darted to the open dufflebag on their bed with all of their weapons.

He made a move for it, but a figure flickered into being in front of him. She was wearing a torn, bloody sundress. Her long, straw-colored hair was plastered to the half of her gaunt face where it was smashed in, blood staining it crimson. The ghost took a step toward Dean. Thick, dark blood dripped from her head but never reached the floor.

“Marcy,” Dean breathed. Guess she didn’t need to wait for nightfall after all.

“Coward,” the ghost menaced as she took another step closer. Dean carefully backed up. “Can’t even say it. Even when you’re hurting him. Coward!”

Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas, who was edging toward their weapons bag. He tried to make the movement quick, but the ghost noticed. With a vicious growl she flung out her hand and Cas went flying into the far wall.

“Don’t worry,” the ghost said to Cas, and the venom in her voice dropped into twisted sympathy. “I’ll take your pain away soon.”

Cas struggled to his feet as the ghost rounded on Dean again. Her outstretched hand aimed directly at Dean’s head, fingers curled into a wicked claw. But before she could touch him, Cas made another attempt at the duffle. She shrieked in fury and sent it spinning through the air toward the window. A single iron poker tumbled out of the open zipper as it flipped over and smashed against the glass, shattering it. The bag tumbled to the ground below.

Cas lurched for the poker. “Dean!” he called as he tossed it through the air, directly through the ghost. She howled and dissipated into smoke while Dean barely managed to close his fingers around the weapon. Cas and Dean stood back to back as they circled the room, Dean holding the iron poker at the ready.

“Salt,” Dean barked. “We need salt!” Except all of theirs was now two stories below. Dean silently cursed. “The kitchen! Go! I’m right behind you!”

Cas nodded and made for the door. The lights were flickering again. He and Dean narrowly made it into the hallway when their bedroom door slammed shut behind them. They raced for the stairs and nearly collided with Susan.

“Cas, Dean, what’s going on?” Her eyes were panicked, taking in the cut on Cas’ temple and the iron poker in Dean’s grip. Mist followed her words out of her mouth.

“Look out!” Dean reached for Susan, but he was flung backward by an invisible force. Marcy flickered into existence over him again. “Salt, Susan! We need salt!” he cried out before the ghost clamped its cold hand around his throat. Dean scrambled from his poker, but it had fallen just out of reach. His other hand grappled with Marcy’s, trying to pull it away.

He couldn’t see with the ghost pinning him down, but he was pretty sure he heard Susan’s footsteps racing away. Good. Even if she didn’t come back, at least she was somewhere safer. Black dots started to swim in Dean’s vision.

“Hey! Marcy!” A ceramic angel went flying through the air and smashed into a framed photo on the wall next to them, shattering the glass. Marcy snarled and whipped her head around. Her grip on Dean’s neck loosened a little, and Dean sucked in as many painful gasps as he could get.

“This is what you’re about, huh?” Cas goaded. He stood next to an accent table full of figurines, another ceramic angel in his hand, fat load of good that would do against a ghost. “Exacting revenge against shitty lovers?” Dean stretched his arm until his muscles strained. He could barely feel the length of the iron rod brush against his fingertips. If Cas could keep stalling for just a little longer... “I think anger has clouded your judgement.” Cas’ lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “You have no reason to attack Dean. Can’t you tell? He doesn’t love me.”

The statement caught Dean completely off-guard. His hand stilled as he gaped at Cas. “What?” he rasped around the ghostly hand on his throat. Didn’t love him!?

The ghost growled at Cas. She raised her arm as if to psychically toss him toward the stairway, but right at that moment, Susan barreled up the stairs, a blue canister of salt in her hand.

“I have the salt!” she said, and with panic and desperation in her eyes she blindly flung the open canister at Dean and the ghost. Salt flung in a wide arc and rained down on Marcy, who screamed and disappeared instantly.

Dean rolled onto his side, coughing weakly as he grabbed onto the iron poker and clutched it against his chest. Cas ran to him, only stopping to grab the canister of salt. He hastily drew a circle around them, draining the last of the salt on their protection ring. “Susan, get in the circle!” he commanded as he knelt beside Dean.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean choked out between gasps for air. His head was spinning. Cas’ hand on his shoulder helped a lot, but when Dean asked his question Cas quickly yanked it away. “How could you think that?” he said, genuinely confused.

“What’s going on? Why did that...that thing look like my Marcy?!” Susan nearly flung herself into the circle with them. She clutched at her chest, casting her terrified gaze around the room.

“Her ghost,” Cas said, though he didn’t take his eyes off Dean. His brow furrowed. “Dean, you haven’t--”

“Ghost?!” Susan screeched. “Then what the hell are we doing standing here?!”

“Salt repels ghosts,” Cas replied with way more patience than Dean would have had. “She can’t come into the circle.”

“What’s going on?” Susan’s eyes went huge, her face going pale. “She...She killed those people last year, didn’t she? How do we stop her?”

“Usually burn her remains, if anything is left,” Cas said, “but she was cremated, wasn’t she? So something else is tethering her here. Perhaps a locket? Something she cherishes.”

Susan frowned, panicked eyes darting around in front of her as she mulled it over. “Her painting,” she said with a gasp. “The one in your room. She finished it right before our argument! Right before she ran out into the street and was hit by the car. It was precious to her. She put her everything into it, tried to use it to confess her love for me, and I...I was too much of a coward to say it back. That’s why we fought.”

Cas and Dean’s eyes met, and they both nodded. Dean grunted as he pushed himself to his feet, poker still clutched to his chest. “Susan, stay here. Whatever happens, don’t leave the circle. Cas, I’ll keep her busy. You burn the painting.”

As one unit Cas and Dean left the salt circle.

Immediately the hallway burst into chaos. Doors slammed shut everywhere. The knick-knacks and travel guides on the accent table went flying through the air. The lights flickered until their bulbs burst, leaving only the light of the window at the far end to help them see.

They ran.

“You don’t think I love you?” Dean demanded, because a deadly ghost hunt seemed as good a time as any to have this conversation. Some things were too damn important to wait for downtime.

“Because you don’t!” Cas snapped. He threw himself at the shut door of their room, but it was supernaturally sealed. He grunted and tried again. Marcy appeared at his side, a ghostly hand reaching for his chest, a snarl on her lips.

“Cas, of course I love you, you idiot!” Dean swung at Marcy, forcing her to disappear again. Cas slammed himself against the unmoving door. “How could you think I don’t?”

“Dean, I died--” Cas slammed into the door again. His eyes glowed faintly with his weakened Grace. “Telling you how I felt. And you said--” Another crash; the door cracked ominously. “Nothing about it since I’ve been back!”

Marcy flickered into being next to them again. Dean knocked her away with the poker.

“I thought you knew! I thought you didn’t love me and that’s why you never said anything!”

“I told you!” With one final crash, Cas burst through the door and into the room, Dean hot on his heels. They ran for the dresser. “I told you the one thing I wanted, I couldn’t have! That thing was you, Dean!” Cas yanked the painting off the wall and threw it on the ground, shattering its glass and exposing the paper.

Marcy screamed in fury and appeared in front of him. She flung him at the dresser just as Dean dispersed her with a forceful swing. He flipped the poker in his hand, readying himself to strike again while Cas scrambled to his feet, lighter freed from his pocket and held at the ready.

“Because of the Empty!” Dean insisted. Marcy’s form materialized again, and Dean raised his weapon as she approached. “You couldn’t have me because of the deal with the Empty!”

Cas fumbled with the lighter. “I can’t have you because. You. Don’t. Love me!” It finally lit. Cas threw it onto the painting, sending it up in flames.

Marcy howled in agony as her body sparked and burned. She raised her head skyward as if to escape from the rising flames, but in a flash of heat and bright orange light, she was gone, and Cas and Dean were left standing alone in the room.

They stared at each other in the sudden, violent silence. Cas’ face was a mask of frustration and pain.

“Dean, I’ve been back for months. Months. And you have said nothing about how you feel. Do not lie to me now because you feel sorry for me.” With one last heartbroken glare, Cas stomped out of the room, leaving Dean behind to stamp out the flaming remains of the painting.

Once Dean didn’t need to worry about burning the house down, he went looking for Cas. He found him outside, loading up their scattered weapons into the trunk of the Impala.

He looked shattered. His face was crumpled with pain, his eyes dull, deep furrows in his brow. It brought Dean up short. Guilt welled up so intense that Dean almost couldn’t say anything at all. Except, well, that had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

“I thought you knew,” Dean called across the distance between them. Cas stopped and turned to look at him. The bitterness in his eyes made Dean’s stomach churn. “I thought you knew,” he said again. He took a step toward Cas. “For years I thought you knew. But, you know, you’re an angel. I thought you didn’t...I thought you couldn’t…” He trailed off. Cas’ forehead was furrowed in confusion, but he was at least listening, so Dean swallowed down his discomfort and barreled forward. “I thought angels couldn’t fall in love. Except...then you died telling me you did. Telling me that the reason you couldn’t even tell me how you felt was because being happy would trigger your deal and…” He shrugged.

“You thought I was deliberately keeping us apart?”

“Because if you told me you felt the same, then we’d be together and you’d be happy and you’d die.”

The bitterness had faded from Cas’ eyes, replaced with something that Dean was loath to acknowledge looked a little bit like pity mixed with profound frustration. “So when I came back, you thought there wasn’t anything left to talk about?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck and took another step forward. “Yeah well…What else was there to say? You said you, you know, loved me. And I thought you knew that I, you know…” He trailed off.

“Dean.” Dean had never heard Cas sound so pained just saying his name. “You.” Cas scrubbed at his face. His mouth twitched as he struggled to find words for all the ways Dean had screwed up. Was continuing to screw up.

“The hoops that you jump through to avoid talking about your feelings astound me,” Cas finally said. He dropped his hand with a sigh of defeat, and Dean’s heart sank. This was it. The death rattles of a relationship that hadn’t even really started. Dean never had what he truly wanted, and he never would.

Dean ducked his head, unable to look Cas in the eye. “Right. Yeah. That’s me, alright.” He swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. The long drive back to Kansas was going to be awful.

“Say it,” Cas said softly. His words were a command, but when Dean looked up in surprise, his eyes were pleading. “Please,” he breathed, almost like he didn’t deserve to even ask, and something inside Dean cracked.

“I love you, Cas.” One step, two steps, he crossed the distance between them and threw his arms around Cas’ shoulders, clinging to him the way he wished he could have before the Empty took Cas away. “It’s you, Cas. It can only be you. It’s only been you for years. I promise.”

Cas’ next breath stuttered in his lungs. His arms wound tightly around Dean, desperate. “Dean,” he sighed, this time like a prayer.

“I’m right here, buddy.” Dean held him tightly, the way he should have when he first got Cas back from the Empty. The way Dean wanted to all these months when he thought...Well, when he was an idiot. “You can have me, you know. You already have me.”

Cas pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye. His eyes were glassy. Dean’s didn’t exactly feel dry either. ‘I wonder if I can kiss him,’ Dean thought, milliseconds before Cas did just that.

Cas’ lips were warm against his own, and Dean gasped softly as his hand wound through Cas’ thick hair to cradle the back of his head. His kiss was eager, if not clumsy, and Dean smiled a little as he let Cas take the lead anyway. When they finally pulled apart, Cas’ normally pale lips were flushed pink, and Dean’s soft smile morphed into a huge, affectionate grin.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice surprisingly husky after a largely innocent kiss.

Cas smiled back. “Hello, Dean,” he said, and Dean couldn’t help it. He laughed. God, how he loved this angel.

“So whadya say, Cas?” Dean said when his laughter quieted. “Ready to get the hell outta Dodge?”

Cas’ hands slid down Dean’s back until they were resting on his hips. “Actually…” His gaze turned wistfully in the direction of the distant beach. “I had a different idea.”

---

“You sure this is okay, Cas?”

“Dean��”

“Cuz I mean, I want to respect your boundaries.”

“Dean!”

“And I totally understand if I’m crossing a line here.”

Cas twisted around and gave Dean and his closed bottle of sunscreen a baleful look. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “If I get sunburned, you can get your own room tonight.”

“You’re probably not even going to sleep anyway,” Dean shot back.

“I’ll sleep just to spite you.” Cas scowled, but Dean could see the corners of his lips twitching playfully. With a rush of affection, Dean shifted so that Cas’ bare back was pressed against his chest and Dean could rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder. Cas went stiff against his body, but it only lasted a second before he practically melted into Dean’s hold. Dean wrapped his arms around him as he watched the waves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dean said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Cas breathed, but he wasn’t looking at the sea.

Heat rushed to Dean’s cheeks. He cleared his throat and kept his gaze solidly on the ocean. “You’re such a sap,” he grumbled weakly.

“You’ll get used to it.” Dean could see Cas’ smirk in the corner of his eye. Dean tightened his embrace.

“I dunno if I ever will,” he said quietly, a soft smile on his lips as he finally got to hold his angel.

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #userstarry #deanwinchesteradjacent #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #castiel #katie writes things #long post

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lightupmyass · 4 years ago

Text

All Mine

Pairing: Soft-ish Villain! Deku x Reader

Word count: 3852

A/N: Hello everyone! So, this is actually my first time writing in a while, this is an Adult Deku fic, way after they graduated. I've been really lacking motivation lately and this is my first mha fic posted on here, so I hope it doesn't suck 😅. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Also, this isn't edited so please ignore any mistakes. Its a lot tamer than what I anticipated for Villain Deku but its just a little something to get back intonthe groove of writing.

The longer you sat in the chair, the faster your heart raced, the fear and excitement of what’s to come, the overwhelming feeling of being like prey, uncertainty of how exactly you’re supposed to feel in this situation. Of course, you should be scared, terrified even. You got yourself into quite the dangerous situation, but the excitement of what might happen was too much to ignore. You may have gotten into this position on accident, but you’re here in this room for a reason. This is all your fault, and you’re willing to pay the price for your foolish actions.

You jumped when you heard the door open, your arms instinctively tugging at the rope tied around your wrists as you tried to turn around, but couldn’t. “Oh Doll, don’t be too scared now, just relax.” The soft voice of the man you used to know echoed through the room, taking a different tone as the mood in the room completely changed. You felt calmer, yet even more anxious all at once. This was not the boy you went to school with. This was not the boy who gave you pep talks when you were down, who you admired. This boy, no, this man, was a completely different person. Your body trembled as his hand landed on your shoulder, fingers moving to grab your chin, tilting your head back to look up at him, his green eyes looking into your own with a look you never thought you’d see from him, the look of a predator, a snake, who just caught a little baby bunny.

“You got yourself into quite a pickle, haven’t you Y/N? It wasn’t very smart of you to come after me alone. Did you think you’d be able to talk me out of this? Turn the big bad villain back into the hero he once was? Hm?” He asked, his voice smooth, the stutter he used to have was completely gone. He was, way more confident than he used to be. The power he held over you was intense, and not just his physical strength no, he already knew what you felt for him, and the new and improved Izuku definitely used that to his advantage. You couldn’t even respond properly, only whimpering when his hand trailed back to your neck, his thumb brushing over the sensitive spot directly under your jaw. “No, I don’t think that’s why you’re here. If it was, you would’ve put up more of a fight. Then, what is it? What brought you here?” He leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear. “Tell me, Doll. I’d love to hear your voice. Speak up now, or I might get mad.” He whispers, sending a chill down your spine. “You. I-I wanted t-to see you. I heard about what happened, but I’m not here to try and change your mind." You spit out. He hums curiously, circling around to stand in front of you, kneeling down and resting his hands on your thighs. You have to admit, he’s scarier than any villain you’ve ever stood up against. The calmness he exudes, plus the raw power you know he has, that and the nice dark green suit he’s wearing just makes you feel so small, so powerless against him, you’re definitely trapped.

“Then why did you come here, if not to change my mind?” He asks, staring into your eyes, making you even more anxious. You turn your head away, completely intimidated by the direct eye contact. “I-I wanted to see you. To be honest, I wanted to maybe,” You gulp, hoping that he believes your next words, “help you.” It took a lot of time and effort to make the decision. For years, you were looked down upon by your fellow heroes. You weren’t exactly the toughest fighter, and your quirk, the ability to paralyze people by touching them, was only good if you could get close to someone. You’ve been working hard to train your body to move faster, to catch people off guard and sneak attack them, but no matter how hard you tried it was always by sheer luck that you managed to actually do it. Although you passed the hero course, you felt like you didn’t deserve it. The only way you did was because he was always there, always rooting for you and giving you the strength to work harder. You couldn’t have done it without him, so you feel like you owe him. “You know how hard things have been for me. I’m not very strong, but you’ve always been there for me, and I want to help you too, no matter what side you’re on. I want to help you, be loyal to you in any way I can. Please, let me help you. I promise I’ll do the best I can. “ You tell him, your eyes watering a bit.

He takes a minute to soak it all in before smiling, reaching to cup your cheek. “Oh Doll, I'd love to have you work with me. Your quirk could be a real advantage to me. You’ll be very useful. There’s just one thing you need to do before I let you be my partner.” He says, standing up and walking behind you. “What is it? I’ll do anything. I-I love you, I’ll do anything you want me to, to prove that and my loyalty to you.” You admit, surprising yourself with the sudden confession. “You love me, huh? That’s a bit surprising. Alright then, if you truly love me, then just relax, Doll, and let me make you mine.” He whispers in your ear before leaning down, his hot breathe fanning over your neck before his teeth sink into the soft skin, making you wince and whimper in pain and pleasure before his tongue swipes over it, soothing it. “Please, Izuku. Do whatever you want. I want you to make me yours, please. I’ll be good for you.” You whisper, your pride completely diminished at this point. All you wanted, all you needed, was to be consumed by him, to be taken over by him, to be completely under his control. “That’s what I like to hear, Doll. Just relax now, and tilt your head back, and close your eyes.” He orders softly, you instantly complying. A moment later you can feel silk across your face, his tie most likely, being tied around your head, covering your eyes. “Good girl. This might actually work. As long as you keep listening to me, we shouldn’t have a problem.” He whispers in your ear, his arm wrapping around your chest as his other hand reaches down on your body, fingers teasing the hem of your skirt as your thighs tremble in anticipation.

“I wonder, how long have you wanted this? Everyone always told me you had a crush on me back in high school. Did you dream of this situation?” He asks, placing kisses on your neck as he moves your skirt up, your damp panties exposed to the cold air. “Y-Yes. I did.” You admit sheepishly, never thinking you’d be admitting that to him. “Mm, naughty naughty Doll. I wonder, should I give you what you want, or should I make you earn it? It seems this cute little hole of yours,” He traces his finger over your slit, a small breathy moan escaping your lips as the fabric starts to stick to your folds, your sensitivity heightened from the loss of sight, “is just begging for attention.”

You’re not entirely sure what to do. You feel if you ask him to touch you more, he might see how bad you want it and deny you of it, but if you stay quiet it then he might give you what you want. Its best to just let him do whatever he wants and show how obedient you can be for him. “What did you imagine me doing to you, Doll? I want you to tell me exactly what you wished for all these years. Don’t be shy now.” He says, you can hear the smile in his voice. He’s loving this. You take a deep breath, not taking much effort to remember the things you used to fantasize about. “I-I always thought about you touching me, about how, you would feel going, i-inside of me. Just being a big, messy ball of love and lust with you, getting lost in the feeling of being one with you and being yours.” It felt weird to say it like that, but to you, there was no other way to put it. Its not that you just wanted something physical, you didn’t just want him to completely wreck your shit. You wanted him to love you back, to make you feel like you mattered, like you were worth everything you wanted from him.

“So that’s how it is, huh? Well, today might just be your lucky day. You see, I've been wanting you for a long time too. When we were younger, I wanted to be with you, to support you and make you see your potential. But now, I want more. So much more. I want you, to be mine. I want to break you, mold you and shape you into the perfect partner for me. I will train you, and help you get stronger, maybe even train you to use weapons instead of just relying on your quirk. But, I also want to mess with your mind, play around with you until the second I lay a single finger on you, you’re putty in my hands. Thought something tells me that won’t be too difficult from how much you’re squirming under my touch.” His fingers push your panties to the side, the direct contact of his skin on you overwhelming. No one has ever touched you like this before, and the fact that it was him made it all the more intense as his finger traced up and down your bare slit. “You’re soaked already, Doll. Or, should I call you Puppy, since you’re as loyal as one. You can be my cute little Puppy, my loyal guard dog that won’t let anyone harm me, and I’ll protect you just as much. No one else will ever lay a finger on you. You wanna know why, Puppy?” He asks, you humming questionably in response. “Because from this moment forward, you’re mine, and no one is allow to lay a finger on you, or touch a single hair on you. If they do, I'll beat them to a pulp, and if they survive, they’ll know to never make that mistake again.” He warns, the possessiveness making you happier than it probably should.

“I want you to stand up for me, little Puppy. I’ll untie your hands for just a moment, but they will be tied again, understand?” He says, his fingers already working on the rope that he tied an hour ago. “Yes, Sir.” You say, not thinking about it until you heard him growl behind you, making your entire body tremble. “I like hearing that. I like hearing that a lot. I want you to say that more.” He commands. “Yes sir.” You smile, loving the fact that you made him react like that, that you did something he really liked. It made you really happy that you could make him feel the way he made you feel. As soon as you feel the rope fall away from your bruised flesh, you stood up just as he said, standing there and waiting for his next move. You felt his presence as he moved to stand in front of you, tying the rope back around your wrists, but this time in front of you. Once they were all tied up again, you felt him move, his hands on your hips as he moved you to stand straight, his hands reaching up your skirt to slide your slick panties down your leg, the cool air hitting your core as you step out of them, earning an approving hum from him. “Good girl. Now, sit in my lap and lean back against me. Just relax and let me do what I want.” He says, grabbing your hips to guide you as you sit down, the warmth of his body comforting as you rest against his broad chest, his hands roaming your body before he buries his hand between your thighs, nothing in the way of him getting to your sweet sex. You hold your tied hands close to your chest as he uses two fingers to tease you, circling your aching hole as your head falls back onto his shoulder, your thighs parting to give him better access.

“You’re so wet down here, Puppy. I cant wait to fill you up with my cock. But I need to get you ready first, there’s no way you’d be able to handle it. Gotta stretch you out nice and good.” He says into your ear, slipping the two fingers as deep as they can go inside of you, making you moan out his name as you arch your back, your ass grinding against the hard bulge in his pants. “Fuck.” He groans, wrapping his arm around your stomach to hold you closer to him. “Careful now, Doll, you don’t want me to get too rough now, do you?” He asks, his teeth grazing your neck again as he pumps his fingers into you, his palm brushing against your sensitive bud with each thrust. You don’t respond, because frankly, you’d love for him to lose control, to be rough with you and make you lose your mind. He spreads his fingers inside of you, stretching you out a bit more before slipping a third in there, your body moving again, making him sink his teeth into your neck to hold back a groan. “That’s it. Get up, Puppy, and get on your knees.” He orders, pulling his fingers out of you. You pout as this loss of warmth inside of you, but you di as he says, eager to please him and do whatever he says.

“Now, you’re going to stay nice and still, and keep your mouth open, and let me face fuck you, alright?” He says, standing in front of you. “Yes sir.” You nod, your jaw falling open, obediently waiting to please him. You hear his zipper, the clothes shifting, and before you know it, the hot feeling of his cock brushing against your lips, resting heavy on your awaiting tongue as he hisses at the contact, slowly inching deeper into your mouth. “Ah, fuck Puppy, such a good girl. Take it all in.” He moans, your mouth filling up quickly. You never got to see what it looked like, but his cock is a lot bigger than you expected, your mouth can barely open wide enough to take it. Breathing becomes difficult, but you try your best to breathe through your nose, wishing desperately to see what he looks like from this angle. You’ve waited years for this moment, and now that you’re finally here, you can’t even get to fully enjoy it. But, as long as you’re here, doing what he wants, being useful to him, its more than you ever imagined you’d get, so its best to take what you can.

His hand moves to the back of your head, pushing you down further onto him until you gag around him, a guttural moan rumbling in his throat. “Fuck, that was so good. You look so cute choking on my cock, Puppy. Now, let’s take this pesky thing off. I want you to look at me while I use that slutty little mouth of yours.” He says, untying the tie and letting it fall as your eyes adjust. You whimper as you look up, the image before you better than you could’ve ever imagined. Izuku standing above you, holding your head as he stuffs your mouth with his cock, his cheeks flushed as he bites his lip, the top buttons of his shirt undone to reveal the tones muscle underneath, littered with scars from previous battles. “There we go. You look so beautiful like this, so perfect. Makes me want to ruin you even more.” He smirks, shoving his member back into your mouth, making you gag on it again as tears stain your eyes. “That’s it. Feels so good, Doll. Just relax. You can take it, take it like a fucking champion.” He moans, continuing to thrust into your mouth, your tongue moving around him every now and then, lips tightening around him, anything to make it even better for him. The entire time you keep looking up at him, admiring him, watching as he loses himself, lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. You feel proud, proud that you can do this, make him feel like this, its all because of you. “Ah, Puppy, Puppy you feel so good. I want more, I want so much more.” He groans, pulling out, leaving you a slobbering mess. “Stand up, and face the wall over there. Now.” He says, holding his cock in his hand. You nod, standing up, your legs slightly shaking and your jaw sore, but you still do what you’re told, putting your hands on the wall in front of you and spreading your legs, sticking your ass out without him even telling you. “Well aren’t you doing such a good job? You really are my cute little Puppy, aren’t you? And I'm your Master. Now, stand still.” He says, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your folds making tremble. “Get ready, Doll. Gonna make you mine right here, right now.” He whispers in your ear before pushing inside of you, the feeling overwhelming as you moan loudly, your forehead hitting the cold stone wall as he pushes all the way into you, filling you up completely in just one thrust. “Shit! Ah, so fucking tight! Fuck it feels so good, you feel so good.” He groans, his fingers digging into your hips as his forehead rests against your shoulder.

“Master, please, move. Please fuck me already. Fuck me hard and make me yours.” You beg, wiggling your hips to get some sort of friction. “Mmm, love hearing you beg for it. Careful what you wish for though, Doll. You’re so fragile, it’ll be so easy to break you. But, since you want it so bad, who am I to deny you?” He smiles, placing a kiss on your neck before pulling back, just to slam back in all the way. Out of no where he starts a brutal pace, your body bouncing to meet each one of his thrusts as you get lost in the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you. Your moans mix with his almost animalistic grunts as he reaches up, grabbing you by the hair and pulling your head back, the mixture of pain and pleasure almost unbearable. “So good, Puppy, its like your pussy was made for me, to be stuffed full of my fat cock. You love it don’t you? Don’t you? I know I do. Love how you’re squeezing me so tight. Fuck, its perfect.” He moans, your bound hands falling down and hanging limp, the only thing keeping your face from hitting the wall being his hand in your hair.

He pulls out for a moment, only to turn you around and pick you up by the back of your thighs, quicker than you can even process before he’s shoving his member back inside of you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he holds you tight against the wall, bouncing your whole body on his cock as he fucks you hard and deep, just like you always wanted. “That’s it, that’s the perfect angle. Look at it, Puppy. Look down and watch me fuck that pretty little hole of yours. Its beautiful, we’re making such a mess.” He says, his forehead resting against yours as you look down to see what he’s talking about. Just seeing it, watching as he disappears inside of you, his shaft covered in your juices, your thighs glistening with the slick, you couldn’t help but get even more turned on. “Its just like you wanted. We’re one, and you’re mine. I’m making your wildest dreams come true, and you’re going to be mine forever. There’s no way I’m letting you go now.” He says, kissing you hard and taking your breath away, the kiss holding so much passion, so much love, than you ever imagined. It made your mind go blank, the only thing you could think of was him, how he felt, how he smelled, how he tasted, his everything, it was all you wanted and more, so much more, it was him, and he was yours now, just as much as you were his. Anyone willing to weasel their way between the two of you would regret it instantly. There was no way you’d let anyone take him away from you. You’d kill them in a heart beat.

“I love you. Don’t want, ah, anyone to take you away. Wanna be yours forever.” You moan, your head resting on his shoulder. “You don’t ever have to worry about that. You’ll be mine forever, that’s a promise, baby.” He says, kissing your cheek before burying his face in the nape of your neck. You could feel it, the welling of love inside of you, the burning in your tummy, the way he pounded against your sweet spot inside of you and the way he grinded against your clit, it was all too much. “Ah, ah fuck, mmm, ‘Zuku.” You moaned, wishing your hands were free so you could grab onto his hair. “That’s it, Puppy. So close, cum with me Puppy. Come on, let me feel you. Do it.” He groans, biting into your shoulder as you cry out his name, tumbling over the edge of you let go, gushing around him as he keeps fucking into you. He groans loudly, his nails digging into your skin as his thrusts halt, the feeling of his warmth filling you up, so much that it leaks out of you, dripping onto his pants as his sweat falls from his forehead onto your shoulder, both of you taking a moment to catch your breathe as he holds you close.

“My god, Doll. Guess you really are mine now, huh? Fuck, I’ve been waiting to do that for years.” He chuckles breathlessly, making you smile. He pulls out of you, a trail of your cum mixed together running down your leg as you tremble, not string enough to hold yourself up. “Careful now, just relax.” He says, sitting down on the ground and pulling you down as well, positioning you to sit between his legs, laying back against him. “Now, who do you belong to?” He asks, fingers running through your hair. “You, sir.” You mumble your eyelids growing heavy. “And who are you going to stand by no matter what?” “You, sir.” You say again. “That’s right. You’re mine now. All mine.”

#mha smut #villain deku #mha x reader #deku #izuku Midoriya #bnha #bhna fanfiction

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cowboyshit · 4 years ago

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twenty questions

tagged by: @dustofinsanity (thank you so much my dear!!!!!!)

what do you prefer to be called name-wise? honestly I’ll probably answer to most things as long as they aren’t mean. but ash, ashley, doe, those seem to be the solid three I’m known by around here when is your birthday? november 30th! where do you live? in a tiny, backwoods cow-town smack dab in the middle of california three things you are doing right now? filling this questionnaire out, eating dinner I just finished cooking, and petting sadie with my foot since she’s curled up at my feet after she finished her dinner four fandoms that have peaked your interest. I guess I can go with four I’ve been heavily involved with, even though there’s plenty more than that since I’m a little fangirl at heart, but wrestling (obviously), black sails, the night shift, and pirates of the caribbean how has the pandemic been treating you? uh, I mean, it hasn’t been great and I’ve had to deal with some pretty bad shit as all of us have, and probably some of my worst mental health battles I’ve had to face in about a year or so, but honestly? I just kind of count my blessings these days. lucky to still be employed, even if my pay got a little cut it was nothing that keeps me from paying my bills. all I had to do was take away a few luxury things to make ends meet, and that’s a lot, LOT less than other people have had to do. so yeah, it’s been pretty shitty, this year has been bad news after bad news both personally and globally, but whatever. it could be worse. a song you can’t stop listening to right now? it is no-joke like a four-way tie. a bunch of good songs were in my discover weekly and I’ve been playing four of them on non-stop repeat one after the other. oh! and one my best friend showed to me. this baby don’t cry by k. flay, rock bottom by grandson, ok ok by hoko, and insurgents by the poolside by denny recommend a movie. i’ve jumped into holiday mood early af because tbh I need the holiday cheer, so keeping in that theme, I suggest the holiday with jude law because DUH how old are you? thirty! school, university, occupation, other? had some college, been working in my current career for the past ten years. hoping to pursue a promotion finally since my supervisors have been telling me for the past eight years that I need to promote do you prefer heat or cold? cold pleeeaaaase! I’m a radiator and put off heat like nobody’s business. I’m always warm. name one fact others may not know about you. this is hard because I just constantly blab everything about me, and I have two people who literally know EVERYTHING about me lmfao uhhh I guess... something people may not know... uhhh... on my dad’s side of the family one half was ashkenazi jewish who had to flee germany to avoid the holocaust, where they went to live in italy, while the other half were nazi’s committing some pretty bad stuff that my family won’t talk about, even to this day. funny how two descendants eventually met in america and fell in love, huh? and when they DID fall in love one of them was half italian and in the mafia! so I always joke that my bubbly cheerful self is a descendent of some pretty evil shit, and it feels like a nice little stab at those shitty ancestors of mine. are you shy? uhhh yeah and no??? like. I think I’m shy, since all interaction terrifies me and exhausts me, but everyone tells me I’m a social butterfly? and I’ve noticed in places I’m comfortable and confident, I do tend to be less shy and more involved and interactive? but I think I can be shy. a lot of waiting for other people to initiate because I’m too afraid to, struggling to talk or carry a conversation at times... I don’t know I think I’m overcomplicating this answer LOL preferred pronouns? she/her! biggest pet peeves? gatekeeping, to be perfectly honest. I stopped following wrestling back in 2014 because when I first tried to get into the fandom, someone was trying to gatekeep a wrestler I also liked and had started making content for and they made me feel like shit for liking them, and I absolutely hated it. that’s why it took me an entire two years of quietly lurking in the wrestling fandom before I finally got brave enough to come out of the woodwork, and I’m grateful I’ve been so well received this time around. but now I’m hyper-sensitive to gatekeeping and I fucking hate it. no joke. and since it’s a pet peeve and I’m irked just remembering all that bs I went through, ima say I’m only a part of fandom to share my love of whatever that thing is with other people who love it too. I can’t stand anyone who thinks they have some sort of “claim” over a celebrity or a show or anything. get a different identity that isn’t wrapped up in that thing and stop seeing it as a threat when other people like it. be happy someone else is as passionate about that thing as you are and make a friend. damn. what is your favorite “dere” type? I’m pretty sure this is something with anime or that originated from anime, right? unfortunately I don’t know what they are so I can’t say LOL I don’t even know if I’m right about it coming from anime tbh rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be. 4, 5, but I’m putting in the foundation now and working to make it a 6, 7, or possibly 8 by a year or two from now. what’s your main blog? funnily enough? this one. my OTHER blog that was my main blog since I joined tumblr in 2009 got shoved to the side for this one last year LOL I assumed I’d log onto this blog once in awhile, but now it took over my whole damn life so here I am I guess list your side blogs and what they’re used for. I’m going to be fair and ONLY list my active ones because I have a few side blogs from when I role-played on tumblr that I haven’t touched in over a year. @doedreamss is my non-wrestling blog that WAS my main blog before this one, @cowboysht is my archive where I am ONLY putting my original gifsets/analysis/fanfiction so that one day I can offer people a blog of just my original work and no other posts (the queue is very slowly catching up I think I’ve queued posts up until june this year), @illfatedandstarcrossed is just a non-frequently used outlet for me to mope and dump emotions when I get sad about my relationship things (like a diary! but... public? and not my original thoughts? LOL), and then I have one more blog but it’s locked and private and it’s LITERALLY my diary where I can just vent when I got shit I wanna get off my chest but don’t necessarily want people to see it. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I probably won’t talk to you daily, tbh. I may not even talk to you weekly. socializing takes a lot out of me, on top of an already energy draining day-to-day in my personal life. I have a handful of people I connect with who I talk with frequently, but unfortunately as much as I’d love for it to be endless, I have to keep that list short for my own sanity. my infrequent conversations mean absolutely nothing about my lack of interest in you or how much I care about you. my granny once said I would be the perfect friend for someone you only want to talk to twice a month and she thought she was insulting me, but deadass I just said “YEAH! EXACTLY!!”

tagging: I really like this one so I WANT to tag people, but I feel braindead and also just want to post it cause I feel like I am definitely gonna forget to tag someone tbh aaaaahh okay okay I’m just gonna throw some names out there but please don’t feel pressured to do this (it is TWENTY questions) @kennyhoemega, @champbucks, @superkickparty, @adampage, @hintsofsunshine, @audreyhrnes, @sheslikealostflower, @lancearchers, @champnick, @janelanutella, @edgecution, @superrezzy00, @wardl0w, @writinglionqueen, @orangechuckiet, @hungmanhorsecarriage, @icouldbesus, @thatnerdwriter, @rampagewriting, @snarkandsarcasmftw, @tetsuyainthesky AND I DUNNO JUST ANYONE WHO WANTS TO OK I LOVE YOU ALL BYE

#ashleys playin #not wrestling related #long post for ts #long post

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stars-are-just-ghosts · 4 years ago

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Supernatural Isn’t Just A Show

I started watching Supernatural fifteen years ago, just like many of you. I followed the paths of two young men who hunted the evils in the world that the rest of us couldn’t have imagined on a good day. Vampires and demons and monsters. Greek gods, angels, Lucifer himself. The stories were heartfelt and humorous and dark and tender. They challenged us to see that monsters could be good, and being evil was a choice. They brought us into a reality of hope and fighting the whole world if it meant that your family was safe.

That’s what the show was really about, you see. The hunting and the laughter and the dark and everything in between was just the icing on the cake. The real story? That was family. Two brothers who came together and saved the world, again and again. Two brothers who fought side by side, and sometimes with each other, and always for what was right, even if the drawn line was hard to see. Two brothers whose devotion bled into the world around them and brought other amazing people into the fold. Two brothers who grew to have a circle of people who were the epitome of family, because ‘family don’t end with blood.’ Castiel and Charlie and Bobby and Kevin and Crowley and Jack and the list goes on. A list that extended beyond the characters, beyond the actors, beyond the show itself. One that includes you, me... JoAnn and Steven and Jeffrey.

Let me tell you about JoAnn.

Her daughter and I went to school together, a beautiful young woman named Sarah. Over the years I spent so much time at their house and with JoAnn that it was beyond easy to see them as family. And JoAnn became incredibly special to me. My mother and I have always had a strained, tumultuous relationship with very little in the way of affection. JoAnn, however, became the emotional mother I’d never had. We would laugh together (she had a killer sense of humor,) I would call her just to share something or vent (there was never a moment she wasn’t willing to listen,) she was able to hold all four of my babies after they were born (and they lovingly called her Auntie JoAnn.) And I even managed to get her addicted to Supernatural.

She loved Dean, especially Dean’s rear end. (-wiggles brows-)

Shortly before her first and only grandson was born, JoAnn became terminally ill and passed away. She never got to see her grandson, or hold him, or watch him grow up. I think about that all the time, especially when I see a picture of him that Sarah has posted. When I’m watching Supernatural, and Dean says something familiar or I remember a moment in the show that JoAnn particularly loved, I think about JoAnn and how much I wish she could have seen her grandbaby. And how much I wish her daughter, the lovely Sarah, could have experienced that, too. I wonder if JoAnn would have shared this show with her adorable little grandson. I miss that woman every day.

Now, let me tell you about Steven.

His father, Steve, is one of my best friends. I’ve known him for over twenty years. And when his three children were little, I used to babysit them. His son, Steven, was born with severe Cerebral Palsy. He was nonverbal, wheelchair bound, and was tube fed. But he was also the funniest, brightest, most happy boy I’d ever met. He had the most brilliant smile, and the greatest laugh. And whenever someone he loved or really liked walked into a room, his eyes would light up like stars.

When Steven hit adulthood, I would help his Dad out when Steven was at his house. We liked to watch movies and tv shows together. And I offered up the suggestion of Supernatural. It became like tradition after that. We would all be there in the living room, Steven on the floor with his Dad, and we’d watch the episodes in order. It always made me happy, to be able to share that with them.

About four years ago, Steven became ill, landing in the hospital. While there, his heart gave out. He passed away without ever having finished the show he had grown to love. Since then, his Dad hasn’t been able to watch anymore. It’s too painful. Too hard to think that Steven isn’t there to watch it with him. I understand completely. Because I’ll watch an old episode and remember Steven’s unabashed laughter. And I wish he was still here to watch it with us. I talked with Steve about giving it another try. He heard the show is ending soon, and I think he is finally ready to see it through, to finish it for both himself and his son. Let me tell you about Jeffrey.

Jeffrey has lived in NYC for over 20 years now. He is my big brother, and was diagnosed with different mental illnesses, including Borderline Personality Disorder. He’s still made a life for himself that makes him happy in a place I know for sure I would never survive in. (I’m a small town girl, through and through.) And it was because of my brother that I found out about GISHWHES.

You have to understand, my brother doesn’t open up to people easily or step out of his comfort zone for just anyone or anything. But in doing this scavenger hunt? My brother walked around NYC in a robot costume, including taking the subway and walking crowded streets. He also wore a bikini made of lettuce, and not once was shy about it. He dove right in and gave it his all in order to help other people, and to this day I am still insanely proud of him for it.

After everything he went through, from living on the subway for nearly two years (and never telling us) to going from corporate work (which he hated) to doing something he really loved (comic books, baby) to being hospitalized for suicidal tendencies to finally being diagnosed with things he had struggled with all his life but never had taken care of, and finally having a sense of mental health in a new job as a live-in dog nanny, this amazing man is finally happy. And when I think of that, I think of the video of him wandering around dressed as a robot because of GISHWHES. Now, if you’ll bare with me... let me tell you about myself.

I am a pansexual woman married to my best friend with four amazing children.

I have depression and anger issues that I have struggled most of life with.

I have spent a good chunk of my adult life being a stay-at-home-mom and only now am going back to school to learn a new career. I have rescued and taken care of animals since I was 17, something my children have grown to love as well. And I am happier now than I have ever been. But it wasn’t always that way.

I had my best friend die in my arms when I was 12, that being my first experience with death and grief and unchecked anger. And I grew up a lonely kid who spent most of my time hiding how depressed I was, doing everything I could to take care of everyone else in my life, the majority of them never knowing how much I actually struggled with just living. The first love of my life was killed in a car accident when I was 16. My parents divorced when I was 17 and I dropped out of high school, working three jobs just so I wouldn’t be home with my mother.

I was married to a selfish and controlling man at 18, had my first child at 19, second at 20, third at 23, and divorced at 23 with three small children and no job. I was terrified and didn’t know what I was going to do. Everything was up and down and inside out.

But I have a very clear memory of sitting down one night, after the kids had gone to sleep and the apartment was quiet and I was alone with nothing but my thoughts and the television… and a repeat episode of Supernatural (Season 2, Episode 16 – Roadkill) was on. (Spoilers ahead if you, by chance, have not seen this episode.)

In that moment, I was barely paying attention to it. I was a wreck, filled with guilt and fear. My face was covered in tears, and I was sobbing as I sat there and rocked with a pillow held in my grip (I oddly remember that pillow vividly because it had rough edges.) But as the episode progressed, I began to quiet. I remember listening intently to Sam and Molly as they sat on an old bed in Greeley’s home, looking at the letters he’d written to his wife.

“It’s a love letter he wrote her… my God, it’s beautiful… I don’t understand how a guy like this can turn into a monster.” Molly said to Sam. I mirrored that sentiment, in my own way. (I know my situation wasn’t the same.) I’d married a man I’d thought I’d loved. A man I thought loved me. But his actions and selfishness lead to the downfall of our marriage, our family, and my (then) situation. But I had been the one to make the decision to end things, right? After everything he’d done, I couldn’t be with someone I couldn’t trust. And it wasn’t just about me… it was about our children. They needed a mother who was happy…

At the end of the episode, Molly is faced with the reality that she has been dead the entire time and that her husband David had already said his goodbyes, moving on without her.

“What am I supposed to do?” Molly asked, in tears.

“Just… let go. Of David. Of everything. You do that… we think you’ll move on.” Sam responded gently.

Isn’t that what I should be doing? I thought. Because by that point, I’d been stuck in grief and fear for months. I don’t think I knew it until that point, but I’d been holding onto it like a security blanket because it made sense, it seemed like I deserved it.

“But you don’t know where…” Molly responded, her voice still soft with tears.

“No... Molly, you don’t belong here. Haven’t you suffered long enough?” Sam asked. “It’s time… it’s time to go.”

I sat there in stunned silence.

As odd as it sounds, it felt like he was talking to me. Because for years I’d tried to keep our marriage together because I thought I had to for our children. For years, I’d practically raised those three children alone. For months, I had sat in a holding pattern, waiting for my shoulders to finally break under all the weight from the failure I felt and the misery I was drowning in, doing everything I could to be a good mother with nothing to fall back on. But then I watched Molly walk into the light, tears streaming down her face, a smile ghosting across her lips, and I realized… I really had suffered long enough.

“You really think she’s going to a better place?” Dean asked after Molly moved on.

“I hope so.” Sam replied.

“I guess we’ll never know, not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?” Dean said with half a smirk.

“Doesn’t really matter, Dean. Hope’s kind of the whole point.” Sam said.

And there it was. What I’d been missing. Hope.

This show, these two actors, those two brothers opened my eyes to something that had been right in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what the future would bring, I didn’t know what I was going to do next. But I was certain I had suffered enough. I was certain I needed to move on, for my children, for myself. And as the episode ended, I wiped my tears off my face, shut off the tv and kissed every one of my sleeping children a few dozen times. And I went to bed thinking about the depiction of that light, that hope.

Two years later, I married my best friend – the love of my life, a good man who never lies, never hurts me or my kids, lifts me up when I feel down, makes me laugh every day, treats me far better than I will ever think I deserve. We had a baby boy together, bringing our family to a total of four amazing kids who all call him Dad. We have our own home which we work so hard for, we have a plethora of animals who make every day adventurous, and I am finally on a career track I feel excited about. All because I decided to stop living in my suffering, and move on.

That is why this show is not ‘just a show.’ For me, anyway. Because of JoAnn and Steven and Jeffrey. Because of the hope I found with the show itself. And I know I am not alone in at least this sentiment.

Every season since, I have watched the episodes. I have followed the stories and witnessed the amazing things this fandom has done for each other and complete strangers. I have seen people’s lives changed by the show and the actors, I have been able to connect with other people I never would have known, and get closer to those I already did. I have shared this series with my children, who all love it and the main characters as much as I do.

And right now, as we get near the end of the series, I am not ashamed to admit that I am hurting. I feel a genuine heartache. A genuine loss. I feel like a part of my history is coming to a close. But like at that moment when my world was inside out and I was trapped in my own little hell, I have hope.

I don’t know what waits for me. I never have. I don’t know what awaits any of us. But this show will never really die. The connections we’ve made, the way the stories and people have touched us… that never really goes away.

Whether we watch Supernatural on repeat on a bad day, or follow the actors as they move on to new adventures, or get someone in our life to start watching it, this show will always be around. Just like hope. And… isn’t it like Sam said? “Hope’s kind of the whole point.”

So, hold on to hope. And message me if you’re grieving, if you need an ear from a fellow fan, or just someone to shoot Supernatural memes back and forth with. We’re a family. You, me, all of us. And I’ll always be here for you.

(P.S. I will ship Destiel till the bitter end.)

Love,

QuietDarkness (stars-are-just-ghosts)

#Supernatural #SPN #forever a fan #season 15 #this isn't the end #hope is the whole point #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Castiel #GISHWHES #misha collins #jared padalecki #Jensen Ackles #some spn spoilers

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tellyouwhatilike · 5 years ago

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WILDFLOWER PART 1 - CALUM HOOD

So this is what I’ve been working on! I’m finishing part 2 as I post this. I really hope y’all like this, it’s been super fun to write and I haven’t posted any new writing in a loooooooong time- so please let me know what you think! <3

Part one does not contain any smut, part 2 will 100% be smut lol.

WARNING: This contains mature language and subject matters, 18+ please!!

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PART ONE

“Cal!” An excited voice called from across the large patio.

Calum’s head whipped around while his eyes searched the scantily-clad crowd at one of this month’s industry networking events the label requested he attend. He had to admit, this was one of the more amusing ones, a themed pool party with a barbeque style spread. With that signature phony, ostentatious LA touch to it, of course. This is the kind of thing Calum typically steered clear of in the past; less so since officially uprooting his life to Los Angeles and being conditioned by his band’s record label to make appearances at gatherings like this on a regular basis. His eyes finally landed on his target and his lips curled up instantly—the melodic voice that had called out his name over the masses of valleyspeak blending together in the background, and subsequently, the only true reason he’d agreed to represent the band tonight at this function.

“My, my, my; look what we have here” he said with cheeky implication as he took a moment to slowly look her up and down with a shit-eating grin spread across his face, leaving his eyes squinted and cheeks rounded. She looked even better than he remembered, her long tousled hair neatly spilling over her shoulder just how he’d always liked it. It had been months since he’d seen her in the flesh and the sight of her was enough to make him feel giddy to his core.

“I’m so glad you could make it” she replied with a breathy laugh, cheeks slightly flushed as her arms wrapped around his neck for a quick squeeze ‘hello.’ In that moment, she was very pleased with her decision to wear her sleek black one-piece suit under her cutoff shorts with a red lip—a combination that always delivered. His palm lingered across the span of her waist around her back, squeezing gently, letting it run down to her hip before letting go. When they parted from their embrace and their eyes met, Calum’s cheeky confidence quickly turned shy and boyish, as it typically does.

“Yeah, me too. This is—this is quite the soiree.” He motioned to the mingling bodies around them. “Um, so how have you been, how was Morocco?” He looked down awkwardly at his shoes for a brief moment, cursing himself and nature for not being smoother. Trying not to come off too eager although he’d been thinking about this interaction daily for nearly a year now, whether they had been speaking or not.

They had been engaging in a modest flirtation for months and months now, they had tried going on a handful of dates right around the time the band came back to LA from touring to focus on writing the following album, ‘Calm.’ The term ‘dates,’ however, should be used loosely; Calum’s record label doesn’t approve of the guys getting snapped by paps casually dating around. Rules have certainly been broken in the past— but he figured, since they’d only just met, it wasn’t worth the headaches that these things cause on the harsh world that is the internet. People always talk and it tends to confuse the masses. So, they opted for more intimate yet appropriate venues for their rendezvous like dinner at Calum’s outdoor living space, tight knit shin-digs at his bandmate Michael’s house, or lengthy facetime calls from their respective home couches.

Calum was absolutely smitten- a feeling so new to him, he couldn’t even remember if he’d ever felt it with anyone else before. He was also terrified things would fall apart just like they always had in the past, she ran free and untamed, never staying in one place long enough to make lasting connections, making Calum wary of her potentially leaving and breaking his heart. He could always see it in her face, there was a wild side to her that she couldn’t explain. Things quickly began to prove too consuming for him as he tried to juggle really getting to know her, despite his reservations, and focusing on pouring his heart into the upcoming record. He’s the type to completely immerse himself in whatever it is that’s important to him, so he felt it wasn’t fair to them or his art if they continued building on the relationship. The pair chalked it up to poor timing and decided to give each other space while he worked with his band tirelessly on their music for a number of months. Forever the wandering bohemian, she jetted off to spend some time living with friends in Amsterdam and then frolicking about in Morocco for the summer.

Once the record was released, promotion was finished and the tour was completed; he and his band mates arrived back to LA for some much-needed R & R before eventually returning to the writing process to start it all over again. She returned back to her home base, for the time being, sun-kissed and thrilled to be back in the states for one major reason. Calum had spent nearly the whole first month home catching up on sleep, ordering sushi on grubhub and lounging around in boxers doing next to nothing; standard procedure. But now he was fully rested, extremely rejuvenated, and he was eager to get up to no good.

“I’ve been good, yeah, Morocco was gorgeous and…mind-altering…” She trailed off, losing her train of thought while taking in his face, she shook her head slightly. “Wow, it is so nice to see you again.” She reveled, her green eyes catching light of the twinkling strings adorning the canopy above where they stood. “It’s been a while, huh?” Her cheeks swelled up as she flashed him a smile and attempted to calculate quite how long it had been in her head, remembering some of the last times they hung out vividly. Thoughts shifting to his scent, how he looked different but it was somehow even better than before, the way he had to look down to meet her gaze, the hand he had pressed against her waist when he greeted her earlier, how she felt at ease and wired at the same time to be in his presence.

“Way too long” He said through a toothy smile, already having to remind himself of how they vowed to take things slowly over the text messages leading up to tonight, and simultaneously imagining leaving cherry red marks down the length of her neck. He couldn’t stop sneaking glimpses of her exposed skin and imagining her dark hair splayed across his crisp white sheets or holding her tightly while she wore one of his old t shirts, he desperately hoped that’s where this night was headed. His tongue slipped out and ran its way over his bottom lip when the thin black strap of her bathing suit slipped down her shoulder, his hand moving before the rational side of his brain had any time to talk him out of it. He gently brushed her hair back to expose her bare shoulder and slid the strap back up into place for her, their eyes meeting as his hand lingered there for a moment too long. His jaw tensed as he pulled his hand away, looking down briefly, she swallowed and made herself busy with her champagne flute. He swore he could feel little tiny electric sparks flying each time his skin met hers. “Sorry” He muttered, ever apologetic.

“Don’t be” She said softly and gave him ‘the eyes,’ the eyes that Calum still thought about before he fell asleep some nights. A face that looked like it came straight out of his dreams, innocent yet sinister all rolled into one, making him shiver. A face he couldn’t help but imagine staring up at him while she takes him into her mouth slowly, then all at once. Quite a regular fantasy he’d been having these days, this face felt like she was giving an open invitation to daydream of her. They’d been calling or texting almost daily for around two weeks since she arrived back home, anticipation rising with each passing day.

“So,” He cleared his throat some, “What are you doing after this?” He asked, meaning for it to come off more charming than it did. “I mean, would you want to go hang out somewhere… else? Or something.” He suddenly regretted going in for the kill so soon, he couldn’t read her expression, though he thought if he stared at her pouty pink lips and long dark lashes for long enough, he might. She smirked to herself and let out a chuckle, using her index finger to poke him in the chest. He, rather dramatically, twisted his face up and rubbed the spot vigorously with his palm.

“Owww!” He whined, wide eyed and feigning disdain. “What did you do that for?” He carried on while she rolled her eyes playfully. Tired of the party’s cold chickpea ‘cheeseburger’ sliders and shallow conversation, she decided to speed this process along. She was no fool, they’d both been waiting for this very moment as an excuse to hang out alone again.

“Let’s get out of here.” She leaned in to put her lips up close to his ear, brushing her palm up against his bicep lightly. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, a little smile taking over her plush lips his eyes kept finding their way back to. “I wanna come to your house” She stated, stepping forward slightly to close the space between them, her scent creeping up into his nasal passages and making his mouth go dry imagining how sweet she’d taste.

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, his eyes widening. “Sure… I mean, yeah, sounds good. I’ll grab the car.” He said, trying (and failing) to sound as cool as possible, turning abruptly and b-lining for the gate, lightning suddenly coursing through his veins at the thought of what was to come. Once to the car, he used the mirror to check his hair as he pulled around to the front drive of the house, moving it around and smoothing it down, not making much of a difference with his recently-buzzed ‘do. Now, he knew exactly where the night was going.

(To be continued...)

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loveafterthefact · 4 years ago

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Love After the Fact Chapter 10: Time to Sharpen Up

Chances of survival are dwindling into single digits... because Lance is lousy with a sword.

First Previous Next

“Come on now, Lance. You’re better than this.” Alfor frowns, following his son's uncertain footwork.

“I’m really not.” The droid pulls on its whip, Lance’s broadsword tangled in the glowing cord. The Altean is panting, skin glistening.

Alfor presses his thumbs into his eyelids, though whether with disappointment or embarrassment, Lance can never tell.

He’s not a good warrior. Not with a sword.

Keith just watches, tail flicking back and forth, ears following Lance’s movements. Shiro stands on his right, visibly unimpressed, but trying to be polite.

Lance sighs. He’s just not very good at this. The droid charges, too fast. Lance has been distracted by his audience, hasn’t seen the advance. It’s a genuine mistake, this time.

“Lance!” Alfor yells, drawing his own weapon to protect his son while Coran tries to end the training sequence. The training sequence can’t end during an attack.

Too fast. Alfor won’t get there in time.

Lance throws a hand up, a flash of blinding blue light flaring from his palm.

Light threads through every crack and crevice in the charging droid, saturating its wires, melting, warping, disintegrating in the blinding light. It crumbles into nothing a mere spot from his outstretched palm.

He collapses to his knees. Too much. Too fast.

“Invalid technique. Victory forfeited,” rings out from the walls. Keith gapes, eyes wide. What a terrifying thing to be able to do to something. Lance could do that to him.

“End training sequence.” Alfor crouches beside him. “Son, are you alright?” Lance meets his father’s worried gaze with weary eyes. Alfor softens. Lance’s eyes find the floor.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get there.” Alfor gently helps him up. “If nothing else, you have plenty of untapped potential. And I know you’re capable.�� The king looks his son over, anxiously checking for injuries. Lance nods, staring at the training room floor. “Look at me.”

Lance looks.

“I know you have it in you, son.” Alfor cards a gentle hand through Lance's hair. Lance nods, more for his father’s benefit than anything else.

He doesn’t feel much at all. The things Lance wishes he were good at are the things everyone knows he’s bad at and the things he’s actually good at, no one knows at all. It’s mostly intentional, but in this case, it’s reality. With his father, his spouse, and his spouse’s brother watching, it bites.

Everyone else disperses to return to whatever they were doing, leaving just himself and Keith. The Galra comes over, tail flicking like a pendulum. “I know you said you were lousy with a sword, but...”

“But quiznak am I lousy, huh?” Keith nods, sheepish. “We should go hunting soon. I can finally try out that bow Zarkon gave me for my birthday. You can see my actual skills then.”

“Sounds good.” Keith’s ears are wilted today. Lance knows why.

“We have a few vargas before it’s time to say goodbye.” Lance puts a hand on Keith’s arm. “Is there anything you’d like to do?”

“I think… I think I’d just like to go and… sit in the loft in our quarters, if that’s alright. I know we have work to do, but-”

“Go on. If anyone asks, I’ll say you’re helping the Captain get his affairs are in order and that you’re both working to ensure your safety after he’s gone. Commander Iverson is certain to be bitter about it, since he’s technically in charge of your safety, but I consider that a bonus, personally.” Lance grins, and Keith manages a small smile, despite both his aching hearts.

Lance only has one. How he gets enough oxygen with only one heart is beyond Keith’s capacity to understand. Perhaps that's why he's so bad with a sword.

Up in the loft, Keith finds himself looking out at the grounds. He can’t see beyond the castle walls. He’s never seen beyond the castle walls, not even when he got here. He’s never met the commonwealth, never seen any wilderness. If this past movement is any indication, the Alteans are perfectly content to restrict him to the castle walls and never give him the opportunity to leave. Keith is still staring out the window of the tower loft, half-extended claw dragging down the fine glass, when there’s a knock at the door. He turns away from the purpling sky to find Adam.

“Prince Yorak, Crown Prince Lancel has sent me to escort you to the launch.”

Keith sighs, nods, leaps down from the landing, not bothering with the ladder. “Will I ever be permitted to go somewhere alone?”

Adam sighs, holding the door open for him. Keith trusts this Altean more than the others, though still not much. “Likely not. You are not held in fond regard.”

“So we are still pretending this is for my benefit.”

“No. You are also under constant surveillance. One of the guards posted outside your door is a Listener, one who uses alchemy to enhance their hearing. You’ll be pleased to know that their only report thus far was that you have not yet consummated your union to Crown Prince Lancel. King Alfor is not pleased.”

Keith stops in his tracks. “My body is the only possession I have left.”

Adam turns to him, pushing up his glasses, ever-present datapad cradled in his arm the way one might cradle a baby to their hip. He looks… sad, but trying for indifferent. “That’s where you’re wrong, Prince Yorak. You swore fealty to your King. Everything that you are belongs to Altea, including your body. You have been contracted out to the Crown. That being said, I have instructed the Listener to wait a phoeb, then claim you have mated with the Crown Prince.” Keith frowns, trying to understand.

Adam smiles, lips curling. “Your reality is that you are a living possession. But reality can be manipulated with relative ease. I can make your perceived reality far, far different from what it is. I can make you charming, demure, innocent, beautiful, powerful, awe-inspiring, terrifying, loathsome, dangerous- whatever Crown Prince Lancel wants. That is what you are.”

Keith stares at the green-scaled Altean, eyes wide. The ruff of fur down his back rises with a sudden chill. “You- I’m beginning to think you are the most dangerous thing on Altea.”

“You may very well be correct. Shall we?” Adam turns, leading them down yet another hall.

“My brother sure knows how to pick ‘em,” Keith mutters, more to himself than anybody else.

Adam trips. “Excuse me?”

“Oh. You couldn’t tell?” Keith cocks his head. Adam blinks, hazel eyes wide. He shakes his head. “My brother is embarrassingly smitten with you. It’s really funny, actually.” Keith smiles. “It’s... nice, I guess. At home, he’s always so imposing. He’s imposing a lot here, too. It’s nice to see some other side of him working its way into the open. He normally saved that for when we were in our den, away from everyone else... I think he likes it here.”

“Everyone likes it here. Everyone except you, it seems.” Everyone else gets to go home. Adam turns before backing his way through the doors to the launch pad. “Though, as far as the commonwealth is concerned, you miss your homeland, but our beloved Crown Prince is the only thing you need to be happy.”

Adam grins as he holds the door open. Shiro tugs Keith out into the open before he can step past, pulling him into an all-encompassing embrace. Keith doesn’t even try to resist.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” Keith whispers, a slight whimper in his voice as he throws his arms around his brother.

“Aw, I’ll miss you too.” Shiro gives him a squeeze, eliciting a gentle purr from the young prince. “It won’t be so bad. Lance is a good man. He’ll be good to you.”

“He has been thus far.” Keith doesn’t enjoy the admission, but there it is. Not everything is terrible. “Even if he’s a terrible warrior.”

“True. He is. But he seems to like you well enough. And this place... I know you haven’t seen much of it yet, but it is beautiful here.”

“I know. And it’s nice. But it’s not home.”

Shiro smiles, one of his large hands rubbing the spots behind the younger Galra’s ears. “I’m proud of you for doing this. For not putting up fuss or fight. Sometimes, that’s the hardest thing you can do.”

“I know. I have no regrets. No matter what might happen.” Shiro steps back then, regarding him with that cool gaze. A soldier’s gaze. The captain nods, lays a fist over his breast. Keith returns the gesture. He’s a soldier. Not a pampered prince. A soldier.

Lance watches the farewell, not saying a word. He knows all of this already. His spouse is a warrior, not a lord or a prince. Lance needs to do better to support that lifestyle. Keith can’t be happy sitting around reading all day. In the meantime, he walks over and places his hand on the small of Keith’s back, trying to be supportive.

He wants Keith to know he's here for him.

Lance is surprised when the Galra’s ear turns toward him and his tail curls around his ankle. It’s the furthest Keith has chosen to acknowledge Lance’s presence in view of other people without it being for show. Adam has fallen to gossiping about how cripplingly shy the new prince is to save face.

Speaking of which... Shiro steps up to the Altean, leans down, whispers something in his ear. Adam’s face turns bright red, scales glittering brilliant green as the Galra draws back, grinning from ear to ear. Lance hears a snort as Keith tries not to laugh. He smiles. “I’m going to invite him back as soon as possible. Watching these two flirt is the most fun I’ve had in my life.”

“It’s hilarious,” Keith agrees, whispering in Lance’s ear.

“Reminds me of watching my fathers flirt, to be honest. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen Alfor undignified.” Lance grins. “I’ll tell you about it sometime, if you want.”

“I- I’d like that, actually.” Keith smiles an uncertain smile, willing but not hopeful.

The spouses stand side-by-side as the ship carrying Shiro departs for Daibazaal. A soft keen in Keith’s throat informs Lance the warrior prince wishes he could be on that ship too.

“It will be alright, Keith. You’ll see him again. I promise.”

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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greensaplinggrace · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, I just wanted to ask if you would be willing to dabble in a prompt about Cloud having a wing? Like maybe something where it first manifests in a really bad situation of some kind and he's just horrified and scared about it, and runs away from everyone because he's terrified of what they they think. They then him and end up reassuring and comforting him? Just- angst to family feels? There is a distinct lack of Cloud wingfics haha 😅 so I was just hoping you'd be interested.

I debated a long time about this being pre-Sephiroth reveal and post-Sephiroth reveal and finally decided to place it earlier in the game. I hope you don’t mind! This an AU where the Sector 7 plate never drops.

-UPDATE! This prompt has an alternate fill - VERSION 2 - HERE IT IS ON AO3

*TW for self esteem issues, self hatred, blood and injury, a brief contemplation of self harm/mutilation, hallucinations

- If you want to send in a prompt, the guidelines are HERE and HERE!

---

“I don’t believe it for a second!”

“It’s true! In front of dozens of people, too, including Madame M.”

A bellowing laugh fills the room, and Cloud stares furiously at his tumbler as the table nearly cracks beneath the force of Barret’s gun arm. “I knew he was full o’ shit! ‘I don’t dance’, my ass.”

“He was so good at it. By the end of the song, he wasn’t even following Andrea’s lead. It was like he just fell into the music.”

“Aw! I can’t believe I missed seeing Cloud finally let himself go.”

“Oh, it was wonderful, and he was blushing like mad the whole time. But you haven’t even heard the best part, yet!”

Cloud bites back a groan and hunches his shoulders, angling himself as far away from the rambunctious group gathered around the corner table. He catches sight of Tifa working her way down the bar with a rag, an apologetic smile on her lips, and sighs in defeat when she doesn’t even think to say a word in his defense.

“What, that it only took him glancin’ at the walls of Wall Market before he broke out dancin’? Cause we already knew he was repressed.”

“Barret!” It’s Tifa who finally protests, but it’s too little too late. Cloud sinks into his seat and wishes the entire world would disappear. His drink sure does, though not nearly fast enough. He grabs a nearby bottle and refills it himself.

“He’s got a point, though.”

Aerith giggles as if she knows a thing about him. “Cloud’s just shy.”

He is not shy.

“Shy or not, he was certainly willing to dance for Tifa.”

“And-” Cloud can fucking hear the wink in her voice. “-wear a dress for her.”

The room explodes into chaos. Cloud scowls against a blush as everybody bursts out laughing, voices overlapping in glee and disbelief. Even Tifa’s grinning, eyes sparkling with amusement when Jessie bounces over and slams stomach first into the table. She’s flushed on Gaia knows how much alcohol, eyes bright and cheeks rosy.

“I knneww he liked you!” she exclaims a bit too loudly, and Cloud winces. Half of him wants to speak up against the fact that they’re all gossiping about him when he’s right here. The other half of him just wants to remain quiet, refusing to give them the satisfaction of knowing he’s affected. “Did he really? It mm...must have been- so pretty! I bet it was the- the most amazing thing you’ve...ever seen.”

Cloud would say it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever seen, but Tifa actually blushes.

Huh.

Cloud tries not to blush as well with the realization, turning away from the two as Jessie resumes the conversation amidst Tifa’s embarrassed silence. The others are busy, all chattering and mellowed out, scattered around the bar in small groups and talking about whatever it is drunk environmental activists usually find interesting.

There’s a simple camaraderie in the people around him. More than friends or acquaintances could ever be. A family.

He almost feels like an intruder, sitting here silent and morose in the midst of their comfortable chatter. All easy touches and loving warmth. Even Aerith has settled into the group as if she’s always been a part of it. She’s moved on to her second bottle now, talking animatedly with Barret about flowers, and how Cloud hadn’t ever expected them to get along like moss on a boulder is a mystery to him.

They look...happy. All of them do.

Fondness prods at the boundaries of his chest as he watches them. A wholly unfamiliar feeling, and one Cloud isn’t keen on courting at the moment. He can’t allow himself to think like that, not when he knows he’s unwelcome here. Barret had been right about this being a team - a family - that Cloud isn’t a part of. He’d been right to kick Cloud out the first time around.

He empties the rest of his drink in one go and doesn't even pause to deliberate further. It tastes like ashes.

He shouldn't have even lingered this long. Sitting here brooding at the bar while everybody has fun, bringing down the mood like one giant dark intrusion in their bright little haven of safety and warmth and...

Had his presence annoyed them, and that’s why they’d ignored it? Or had they even noticed him to begin with? Tifa certainly had, otherwise she would have left to go join in the celebrations of her family- her new family. One that Cloud isn’t part of anymore.

He stands to leave. The world tilts for a second, and he has to catch himself on the bar as his feet trip up underneath him, breath hitching and vision blurring. Nobody comments or moves to help him, though. Nobody even looks his way. So he staggers until he’s walking and makes a beeline for the front doors, past every joyful conversation and a smattering of giggles, until he’s bursting outside in a rush.

At once, he’s hit by a blast of the cool night air and the dim glow of the porchlights. For a second, the two worlds meld together - the quiet peace of the night and the warm, brash camaraderie of Seventh Heaven. A soothing lull to the strain of reality. Then the sounds cut off abruptly as the doors click shut, and all he’s left with is silence.

Cloud stumbles over to lean on the nearest metal railing, avoiding the stairs like the plague. Leave. He inhales deeply, the air crisp and refreshing, and breathes out some of the fogginess in his mind. They don’t want you here. He opens his eyes again and stares blankly at the ground below him, uncertain and on edge. Green flickers in the corner of his eye, a breath like ice ghosting through his hair. He swallows thickly and tells himself it’s the breeze, but slitted, sickly eyes grace his vision, and he has to duck his head over the railing to calm the tremors that arise.

“You think these people will accept you, once they know what you are?”

He breathes in shakily and grits his teeth against a response.

“You’re lucky they don’t care for you.”

They do.

They don’t.

He clutches at his hair and tries to make the world stop spinning, panting so loudly he can hear it past the rush of water in his ears.

“Imagine how disappointed they’d be if they learned what goes on inside your head?”

Cloud shakes his head and takes in another breath. He refuses to answer. Refuses to give anybody the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurt - knowing he’s weak.

He doesn’t want them to accept him. He never did and he never will. He’s stronger than that.

“Cloud?”

He jumps at the voice - real and alive and right there - heart racing for a moment in pure, unbridled fear as he thinks that Sephiroth’s finally become real. That the man can finally hurt him. Then the rest of it catches up to him. It’s a girl’s voice, small and high and above him. Not next to him. Not Sephiroth.

“Marlene?” he asks in disbelief, half convinced he might still be hallucinating. Yet when he races down the stairs and turns to face the source of the noise, it’s a little girl’s head peeking out at him over the edge of the awning. “How the f- how did you get up there?”

“I- I didn’t do it on purpose. I promise!” Her voice warbles with tears, and Cloud shifts uncomfortably. This is decidedly not his problem.

“I’ll go get Barret.”

“No! You can’t!”

He glances through the windows of the bar, where Barret’s laughing uproariously at whatever Tifa’s said. The man would kill for his daughter, and he’d probably beat Cloud’s ass for even considering not telling him. Cloud doesn’t need that right now. Barret already hates him enough, but at least he’s still willing to foist off his money. “You won’t get in trouble.” Probably. “He should know you’re safe.”

“But I will!” Marlene wails, and Cloud winces. “Daddy will be mad. I’m not s’post... supposed to be out here.”

“You're not allowed, you mean.”

Marlene sniffs again, lower lip quivering as her eyes start to water, and Cloud’s heart drops when he realizes she’s about to cry. “Please don’t tell Daddy! I only left out the window to see the lights. I didn’t mean to get stuck.”

“Can you go back to your room?” Cloud asks, though he already knows the answer. If only things were that easy.

“N-no...It’s dark and- and I can’t see. Please help me down, Cloudy...I’m scared.”

“It’s not- don’t call me that.” Marlene sniffs again, and Cloud sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a second to fight off the growing headache. “Fine. Just...don’t move. Stay right there.”

He steps further from the building and examines the walls in the hopes of finding somewhere she could climb down, but she really has gotten herself trapped in the most unfortunate place possible. She’s on top of the awning, perched on the highest peak. Her knuckles are white from the death grip she has on the edge, knees occasionally sliding down the curve before she corrects them. Every time she so much as fidgets he feels his heart hit his throat, and by the time he’s finished examining every inch of the building, he feels more sober than he ever has in his life.

She’s much too high up, he concludes. This really is a job for Barret.

“You’d have to jump,” he finally says as he rounds the front of the stairs again, keeping his voice soft to avoid startling her, “we need to get Barret.”

“No! Don’t tell Daddy. He’ll be angry.”

Barret couldn't be angry with Marlene if his life depended on it. “I don’t think so. He just wants you safe.”

“You’re lying.” Marlene hiccoughs, voice cracking on the last word, and it takes an effort for him to remain still in the face of her distress. Something like guilt and understanding twists up inside him, but he can’t think too long about it.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, though every word feels like pulling teeth, “just don’t move and B...Dad will come save you.”

“But I want you to come save me! Please dont- please don’t leave!” She yells out in a panic, and then she’s moving, letting go of the roof and pushing to stand with too much force, feet sliding and eyes widening as Cloud’s stomach lurches in fear.

A dozen things happen at once, blurring and loud in the rush of panic. Marlene’s scream pierces the air, wood cracking and light flooding the area with a series of yells, and Marlene falls. Her scream cuts off as she hits empty space, and Cloud moves like he’s never moved before, feet skidding across the concrete and launching himself from the bottom step with a vicious gust of wind.

He doesn’t know how he reaches her in time. Doesn’t know anything except that he manages to snag hold of her before she even drops a foot, pulling her to his chest and curling around her with a snap. The harsh movement interrupts his flight, and in the next moment it’s Cloud that’s falling, wrapped tightly around his precious bundle as his back meets the top step. There’s a sickening crack, pain igniting across his back and forcing the breath from his lungs, but he doesn’t even think to let go. Not as every step afterward makes the pain spike and not as they finally hit the concrete, wrought metal a dark and twisting sky above them.

Marlene’s shaking on his chest, torn by hiccoughing cries and too afraid to let go, but at least she’s alive. Cloud almost wants to cry with her at the relief he feels seeing her there, safe and breathing in the cradle of his arms. Her small fingers are fisted in his shirt, head buried against his chest, and when she looks up at him her face is wet with tears.

“Is- is it over?”

His lungs feel too constricted to answer, chest tight, and before he can gather his thoughts or his breath there’s a thud of footsteps and a rise of voices. Other people, he realizes blankly for a second. Then, Barret - Avalanche, as awareness finally catches up to him.

“Marlene! Marlene!”

“What the hell happened?”

“Oh Gaia, is that-”

A shadow falls over them, and within seconds Marlene is pried from Cloud’s arms. Barret instantly sweeps her into a crushing hug, a spill of soft, comforting words pressed into his daughter’s hair. Cloud struggles to sit up when the other man turns away, hoping to capitalize on his distraction before anybody realizes a simple fall practically took him out. His face burns when he finally manages to push himself upright, but nothing could prepare him for the sight of everybody else standing there as well. Silent and frozen as they stare at him with wide, horrified eyes.

Cloud tenses and goes deathly still. His voice catches at the back of his throat, shame and pain and a dozen other things making his arms shake beneath his weight. He knows he should say something, but no words would be able to justify the fact that he’d almost let a child die. Now they know. Now they-

“What is that?” It’s Marlene who asks it, voice small in the heavy blanket of silence, and Cloud blinks in momentary confusion.

Then a feather falls into view, and Cloud nearly goes faint with shock. Before he can stop to think, he’s bringing his hand up, fingers splayed and stomach twisting as he reaches up to catch it. He expects dust and shadow - for the feather to disappear as every other has. Except that when his fingers wrap around it, all he feels are soft, delicates vanes and a thin shaft. Real.

No!

Cloud throws it as far away from him as he can, panic rising when all it does is catch on the air and keep drifting. Like a real feather should. Panting, he staggers to his feet, casting about desperately for Sephiroth as he grabs for his sword. Yet his hands hit nothing and all he sees is Barret and Tifa and Marlene, shocked and terrified and stunned. All looking at him and not anybody else . Or, more accurately, something behind him.

Cloud doesn’t need to see it to know, of course. The weight off balances him and has him trying to catch his footing, tripping backwards as they all just keep looking. Not saying anything. Not doing anything. Just-

“Are you a monster?”

And Cloud can’t bear to hear their answers. To look for one more second at their disgusted expressions and horrified eyes. The spell has been broken, Tifa opening her mouth to speak as Jessie gasps and moves forward, and Cloud trips backwards again, boots scraping loudly on the ground as he staggers around in a wide circle.

“Cloud!” It’s Tifa.

Tifa. She knows what Sephirtoth did. She knows he’s a monster-

And he can’t look back - can’t look into her eyes and know that she hates him.

So he runs.

He runs until his feet ache and nothing makes sense. Until the stares and gasps he draws from onlookers drive him deeper into the bowels of the scrapyards with the burn of shame and fear and hatred.

“I told you,” Sephiroth hisses, and Cloud spins in the center of a closed metal clearing to face the bastard, but all he’s met with is more walls.

“Shut up,” he snaps, “shut up!”

“They know you’re tainted, now”. Cloud doesn’t even need Sephiroth to tell him that. Doesn’t need Sephiroth to let him know that his mind is cracked and broken. That his body isn’t his own.

Cloud can’t even look at the metal for fear of seeing his reflection; gleaming snake eyes and a cruel smirk. He already has enough of Sephiroth. He already knows he’s a monster. He doesn’t need to see it. As if the voices in his head hadn’t proved it. As if the green flashes and painful hallucinations hadn’t already told him. Now his corruption isn’t only on the inside. Now it’s outside of him, too. A morbid display of his weakness and his failure. Proof that he can’t control what’s inside his head, let alone the appearance of his own body.

He holds back a sob, chest jumping and lips thinning. There’s a corner of the clearing that’s shadowed and dark, sheltered by a jagged metal overhang, and he forces one foot in front of the other. The sound of something dragging behind him makes him want to vomit. Pain sears through the appendage, pulling at his chest and back and making his shoulder ache. Snapped, he thinks, and has to push the thought to the back of his mind because he doesn’t care.

If he’s lucky, the thing is broken beyond repair.

He drops down and crawls beneath the overhang, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing against the cold metal. Stretched out in a gruesome, bloody display is the wing, nearly unnoticeable in the darkness of the night, and he presses his eyes to his knees so he doesn’t have to see it. The pain is a stark reminder, though.

He really is a monster.

They’d all been so scared of him. Tifa had been the worst, of course, but Marlene’s fear was palpable. Even thinking about it makes his eyes wet, and no amount of rubbing them on his pants can brush away the tears. Aerith had been wide eyed, fingers pressed to her mouth in shock, and Barret had looked thunderous. Probably from allowing Marlene anywhere within a foot of Cloud.

He curls into a tighter ball and tries to fight the heave of his shoulders, but it’s a fruitless endeavor. There’s a feeling of loss that burns, even as he reminds himself that he’d never been a part of their family in the first place. One that has him wishing he could cut the fucking wing away. That he could make everything better. Head back to Seventh Heaven and beg for their forgiveness.

If only he had his sword.

The mere thought has him shuddering in phantom pain, and he resists the urge to pull the wing closer for protection.

“Cloud?” A voice breaks the silence, and Cloud freezes at the sound. It’s Tifa’s voice, and she’s close enough to be right on top of him.

Then another voice speaks up, echoing down the walls of the alley he’s in, and Cloud ducks down to press even further into his hiding place at the sound of Barret’s approach. “Oi merc! Where the hell are you?”

“Barret, you’re going to scare him off.”

“Kid can take care of himself.”

“But did you see-”

A light swings into view, flickering along the battered edges of Cloud’s feathers, and both sets of footsteps immediately come to a stop. Cloud swallows and closes his eyes, trembling with fear or embarrassment, he doesn’t know.

Have they come to hunt him down? Or kick him out?

Tifa wouldn’t do that.

Cloud doesn’t say a word. Neither does Barret and Tifa. Their light lingers on his wing for a long time, and he wonders if they’ve finally noticed how ugly it is. The gruesome bend and twist of an unnatural limb.

“Oh Gaia. Cloud, are you hurt?”

It takes a greater effort this time around to resist pulling his wing closer, wrapping it around himself and shielding his body from prying eyes. The light hasn’t moved, but he knows their gazes have, and there’s not even a millimeter more space between himself and the walls that could help him shift away.

“That don’t look natural.” It’s not. “Shit, do you think it’s broken?”

The light moves, then, over bloody patches and the scattered feathers ringing his form. Cloud feels nauseous just looking at them, undeniably grateful that they haven’t turned to dust even as he wishes they would.

“That looks like a lot of blood…” Tifa worries, and Cloud flinches when she takes another step forward. “We need to get him back. Cloud, can you move?”

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what they want from him. His mouth feels sealed shut with fear and loathing, and he can’t even swallow past the knot in his throat anymore. As if it isn’t shameful he’d been so weak as to get injured in the first place. Now he has a fucking wing sprouting from his back and all he wants to do is cry. Are they here to mock him? He just wishes they’d leave.

“We’re just here to help. Please, Cloud.”

It shouldn’t be Tifa begging. It shouldn’t be Barret approaching with light steps and a soft voice. Shouldn’t be either of them here to see him like this, offering help.

This is all so, so wrong. They should be afraid of him. They should hate him.

He knows he does.

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not.” He inhales like he’s drowning, throat tight and vision blurred. “I’m a- I’m like- Sephiroth.” The word is acid on his tongue and Tifa’s startled inhale only makes it worse. He’s a fool for reminding her, and now she’s going to abandon him. She’s going to realize this was a mistake and she’s going to leave.

“You’re nothing like him.”

Cloud almost chokes on his sob, tension cut away so abruptly his limbs go numb with the shock of it. He collapses in on himself, biting his lip to stifle the tremors, but the rest of his body shakes with each breath.

“I told you before that I was wrong about you, kid. That wasn’t a joke. You ain’t nothin’ like that sick fucking bastard.”

Cloud shakes his head. “You’re wrong. You’re wrong. I-I see him- I-”

“You see Sephiroth?” Tifa sounds faint, but Barret powers on as stubborn as ever.

“That doesn’t mean a thing, okay?” he says, and the conviction in his tone eases the band around Cloud’s chest. He takes in a shaky breath, latching desperately onto Barret’s next words. “What you see isn’t real, and having a wing don’t mean a thing except that you’ve got a wing.”

“Sephiroth has-”

“Sephiroth doesn’t have shit cause he’s a dead sonofabitch.”

That brings with it a whole host of worries Cloud hasn’t allowed himself to think about since he got here, and another silence descends between the three of them. The pain in his wing is a lot more noticeable now that he’s gathered enough wits to focus on it, and he can’t help the slightest hint of hope from forming - that they actually mean what they say. That they still care.

“You ain’t a monster, and Marlene shouldn’t have said that.” Barret lowers himself to a crouch, the hard edges of his expression melting into something soft as he continues. “You saved her. You saved my baby girl, and I will never forget that.”

Cloud had failed her. He’d almost let her fall. Yet he can’t bring himself to correct Barret, careful of the tentative trust.

“I ruined your gathering,” Cloud ends up saying instead, though he’s not entirely sure why.

Barret snorts. “Gathering was ruined as soon as you left.”

Should have snuck out. “Sorry.”

“That’s not what he meant,” Tifa says, sighing. She lowers herself to kneel beside Barret, and Cloud’s surprised to see nothing but kindness and concern in her eyes. That small bubble of hope grows when she smiles at him. A shy, reassuring twitch of the lips. “He meant that we missed you after you left. Aerith was worried she’d upset you.”

“But it was a…” Private affair.

Gaia, he’s such an idiot. It was stupid to worry about such a thing in the first place, and it only goes to show just how weak he is that he’d even been bothered at all. Cloud has never been shy about who he hangs out with before. He’s never cared before if people accept him. Yet the sting of Barret’s words had felt fresh, the mockery of a few days ago - of extra money and saying they wouldn’t need him - like a new cut across his skin. It hadn’t felt scarred over in the moment. Hadn’t felt anything but raw and exposed as they’d all laughed around him - at him.

“We wanted you there. Hell, it woud’a been nice to hear the story from you.”

“I’m sure you would have told it better. Though Aerith does have a...way with words.”

A hint of a smile finds its way to Cloud’s lips at that, but it rapidly gives up the ghost when his gaze lands on the wing again. He eyes it warily, swallowing down bile and blinking away the afterimages of blood and a sword and silver hair over monstrous eyes. He shudders at the memory, pulling his knees closer to his chest. There’s a limp, broken rasp of feathers over concrete as he moves, and he has to peel his gaze away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Cloud…” Tifa begins hesitantly, fingers outstretched toward his wing. They’re frozen, her voice hesitant as she speaks. “We never talked about what happened in Nibelheim. Sephiroth…”

“I know.”

She gives him a tiny nod and says nothing for a while, then: “you aren’t a monster. You’re not like him, and I could never hate you for this. You and Sephiroth...you aren’t the same. Even if-” She squeezes her eyes shut, lips pursing and shoulders hitching as she calms herself. Cloud and Barret both wait patiently. “Even if you see him...Sephiroth. You need help.”

“We can help you,” Barret pitches in, low and so unlike himself that Cloud thinks for a moment he might be fever dreaming or in an alcohol induced coma.

“The others are waiting at the bar for us, too.”

“Trust me when I say they’ll come out here themselves and scream your name for hours if we don’t return with ya. Your little flower girl threatened me. I ain’t never been threatened by someone so tiny in my life.”

“Everybody wants to help you,” Tifa says, “Please. I- we... love you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that-” Tifa’s hair practically cracks through the air as her head whips around, and the burn of her vivid red eyes has Barret cowed. Cloud can’t quite hide the smirk that appears this time around, and Tifa shares a smug smile with him when Barret scowls at the both of them. “Uh huh. I don’t know why the hell I thought our friendly neighborhood merc here was the only Nibelheim bastard. You’re both just feral pains in my ass.”

The word choice is uncomfortable, but for the first time that night, the pang of rejection doesn’t follow. Barret looks relaxed around his wing, now. As does Tifa. Neither of them appears horrified, anymore. They don’t look disgusted.

“I’m...I don’t know what to do.” He has to pry the first words from his mouth, but he isn’t even aware of the next words until they fall like fire from his lips. “It hurts.”

His face heats with shame, yet Tifa and Barret don't mock him. They don’t call him weak or useless or a sorry excuse for a SOLDIER. And he forces his muscles to unwind, inhaling deeply and exhaling at length. They wouldn’t hurt him, he reminds himself, these people are safe.

“It’s okay, Cloud,” Tifa soothes. She rises slowly, every movement of her approach projected, and Cloud would protest the treatment if he wasn’t so painfully grateful for it. When she falls to her knees outside his shelter, the careful compassion on her face hasn’t changed. “We can patch you up. Just like when we were kids.”

He hesitates. “Here?”

“Back at the bar,” Barret corrects, “ain't no way we’d be able to heal you up out here, otherwise. Even if it were daytime.

Cloud takes another fortifying breath, comforted by Tifa’s solid support. Yet voicing his concerns is still too much, and he subsides reluctantly into the shadow of his safe haven.

“We’ll take the back alleys,” Tifa says, and Cloud blinks at her in surprise. Her flicker of a knowing smile is like a benediction, a soothing run of words like water over his skin. “We aren’t that far from Seventh Heaven, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Okay?”

He nods, and Barret’s loud clap is almost enough to make him jump. “Aight! Let’s get movin’. You think you can stand, SOLDIER boy?”

“I’m not an invalid,” Cloud barks with a scowl, “I can move just fine.”

“We could carry the-”

“Don’t!” He regrets snapping immediately, wincing and looking away. “I can move it myself.”

“It’s got to be painful. Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Don’t...don’t touch it.” He pauses and flicks his eyes to her, then over to Barret as the other man shifts to stand. They both came for him. They want to help him.

They consider him family. He blinks the tears from his eyes and looks away, crawling slowly from his shelter. Tifa is warm at his side, Barret steady and unwavering before him. Neither of them leaves.

They came for him. “...thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Cloud might just believe them.

#cloud strife #whump #hurt comfort #wingfic #barret wallace #tifa lockhart #cloti #but its mild #ff7 #ffvii #remake #found family #cloud strife needs a hug #promptfills #thanks so much for the ask!#i hope you like it XD

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hwangskz · 5 years ago

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in another life (pt. 1) | soulmate! minho

part 1 of the uwma! au series !!!! i was so excited to get this up bcs, if u hadn't realised alrdy, i LOVE uwma with my entire heart :( (ps if any of u watch any bls or even just uwma pls hmu thank u) and pls read this post b4 or after ur done reading this fic so u don't get confused in the next part!! +++ tw suicide !

• "y/n….do u like him?"

• ur automatically reminded of the time u first met

• u remember it as clear as day

• u both had taken film as ur major and on the first day, ur college held a lil gathering

• u picked up the nearest headband and read it's label

• 'belle'

• so….were u supposed to find ur beast now???? JSGSSHE THAT'S WHAT THEY SAID

• BUT UR RUNNING OUT OF TIME !!!!!!

• "10 seconds to find ur partner!!!!"

• u looked around bcs u were NOT standing in front of that huge crowd, later trying to find ur partner

• when a boy caught ur eyes

• he stood on the side, his hand limply holding the blue headband as he looked around

• and he looked ?? sad :( ??

• "last 5 seconds!!!"

• u turned around one last time and ?? EVERYONE HAD FOUND THEIR PARTNERS ALREADY??

• so u RAN towards that boy

• and caught him off guard as u pulled him down to sit on the ground as the announcer continued talking and giving out future tasks

• "hey."

• "???"

• wow this boy is worse than YOU at communicating

• "are u sure we're partners??"

• "..."

• "right, yea. i was the one who dragged u..haha..sorry.."

• so u pulled his hand up to view his headband

• 'prince adam'

• u probably looked really confused rn bcs u just made the guy speak up

• "beast."

• u looked up, OBVIOUSLY confused

• this new voice box working??? wonder whose it is

• ":o huh?????"

• he sighed and held it up for u

• thank u nameless boy bcs ur hands kinda WERE getting tired JDKHD

• "prince adam is the real name of the prince in disney's beauty and the beast."

• ":OOO REALLY???? wait but how do u know"

• "..... google?"

• "... RIGHT sorry haha"

• even after the lil gathering ended and u got to go to ur class

• ur mind was still thinking abt the guy

• u probably didn't even notice u had entered the class w that DULL ASS look until

• "ouc- WHO THE F-???????"

• "still in ur dreams?? lmao dumbass"

• ":O SHIN RYUJIN"

• "this group needed the following of a sane person so im here too. hello to u too, y/n"

• "MISS YEJI??? PEOPLE THAT I KNOW AND CHERISH????? ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ OMG HELLO TO U TOO"

• and there it was, once again, ryujin trying to get ur over affectionate ass off of her as yeji laughs

• well iN UR DEFENSE, U MISSED UR BEST FRIENDS AND MEETING NEW PEOPLE TERRIFIES U

• and when u take a seat

• u can't help but follow the movements of the boy who enters the class

• his moves aren't rushed; they seem calm. too calm.

• and that's when u hear all the whispers around u

• "is that blood on his shirt? is he already following in his dad's footsteps?"

• ‘what footsteps?’

• "i heard he dragged his partner today for the freshman gathering today?"

• ‘but i was the one who dragged him..then how-’

• "y/n?"

• "h-huh?"

• yeji's third call woke u up from ur train of thoughts

• "are u ok?"

• "yea.. i'm fine. dw!!"

• "see i told u they’re thinking abt their fantasy boys and/or girls again it's fine"

• "WH- EXCUSE ME I DON'T FANTASISE!!!!!"

• "yes y/n l/n i totally believe that"

• "SHUT UP RYUJIN"

• ur group's laughters echo in the room, along w the other friend groups'

• except for that boy who now sits in front of u

• u wonder if he's waiting for his friends

• but they never seem to show up

• even though it's alrdy been over 5 months now

• and that pretty boy in front of u is DISTRACTING u from the lesson (๑•ૅㅁ•๑) !!!!!

• and this one particular day..yeji and ryujin were absent..

• so u were kinda lonely anyways

• and hearing ppl continue to whisper abt that guy..it made u wanna talk to him again

• u don't know exactly why ?? but u did

• so u gathered up ur stuff from ur desk

• and sat at the desk next to his

• and immediately u could hear the whispers getting a bit louder

• and he ducked his head and turned towards u

• and u decided to ignore those words, and looked at him, with a bright smile on ur face

• "don't worry about them. i'm here now."

• it was something abt u

• something abt those words that made him feel some type of way

• he took in a deep breath as he looked down and then looked at u again

• "......thank you, i guess"

• u nodded and he turned towards his work

• a small smile on his face

• he had found someone

• "so?"

• ryujin asked u, bringing u back from ur flashback

•"yea..i think so.."

• yeji and ryujin sighed

• ur mind : ALERT

• IS IT BAD??? THAT U LIKE HIM???? (๑´╹‸╹`๑) ??

• "y/n...do u not know abt him..?"

• "(o゜ー゜o)??"

• they share a Look and turn towards u, worried looks on their faces

• OK YEA IT PROBABLY IS,,

• "he's the son of a mafia... that's why ppl talk abt him in such..hushed tones..and basically isolate him"

• "and look y/n..we know that isolating him is truly bad, but maybe get a little away? from him? what if u get involved in smthg bad?"

• u...ur honestly a lil shocked

• not fully by the news that his dad is a mafia

• but by the fact that they think something bad can happen when ur with him

• with HIM

• "but it's his dad who is a mafia. he's not at all like that !! he's a bit shy, and is just scared to express himself. and don't worry, yeji. i am not going to get myself in trouble"

• they muttered an "okay" and leaned back against their chairs again

• "but wait.."

• ryujin spoke up again

• "when did u even hangout w him? enough to, well, get feelings for him?"

• "uh well..that day both of u were absent, i went and sat w him in class..then shared some of my lunch w him when i saw him on the rooftop..and kind of having been bringing him lunch and staying w him..during that time.."

• they laughed, and u could feel the tension easing away

• "never knew y/n's a dom lmao"

• "they seem like a switch tho"

• "SHUT UP"

• and so u did join the guy

• (who's name u had learned to be lee minho)

• whenever u found him to be lonely

• and even tho minho seemed to be against the whole idea of u joining him all the time

• trust me he's a whole softie inside

• he just ;;;; he gets so happy whenever u come by

• and not just bring him lunch

• and not only during lunch breaks

• but all the time

• whenever he passes by u

• u always greet him, and

• wave at him and u just feel like a shield from everyone and all the bad things everyone says and he just

• he can't thank u enough

• but it's not just that

• and he knows that

• even when he sees u coming towards him in the library

• sneaking in some food bcs it IS lunch

• so technically u ARE supposed to bring him food

• "hey !! :D"

• u take the chair in front of him

• and take out the food, both of urs, and shove his one towards him

• "WHY-"

• minho shushes u and u turn around to look if u made anyone else angry

• and perhaps...... u DID.... AJSBBE

• so u just duck ur head as an apology and the furious students go back to studying

• "why are u studying rn???? it's lunch!!!!!"

• "ok and??"

• "rest is important!!"

• "what makes u think i haven't rested enough alrdy?"

• "well i've seen u w the book the ENTIRE DAY ??"

• minho sighs, but then perks his head up

• "u..u watch me..?"

• "!! im not a STALKER-"

• minho shushes u again and ur pretty sure the other students r staring daggers at u rn JDVSJE

• "-im not a stalker,, ur in my class.. right in front of me.."

• minho chuckles silently at ur words

• "sure"

• u were flustered until u realised u just

• u just made the biggest tsundere chuckle

• c h u c k l e

• "did u just …….. chuckle at me…….."

• minho looked down, scared to meet ur eyes bcs shit ur rite

• "no…….what makes u think that………"

• u giggle at his failed attempt to delete that successful moment from ur memory

• minho smiles a little

• he was so happy

• even tho it was abt u

• even tho u had made it CRYSTAL CLEAR that u like him

• like at random times u would be like

• "damn i can't believe i fell for u"

• or

• "oh good lord!! i always try to hangout w the guy i like but he pretends to not like spending time with me!!!!!!! what did i do to deserve this !!!!!!"

• and in these situations what does minho do??

• LAUGH .

• he LAUGHS

• just a bit bcs he's still under that tsundere cover JSGSJSB

• but like !!!!!!! in his defense !!!!!!!

• HE DIDNT KNOW IF U TRULY MEANT IT !!!!!!!

• MAYBE U LIKE HIM JUST AS A FRIEND !!!!!!!!!!!!

• AND HE DIDN'T WANT TO RUIN THIS FRIENDSHIP !!!!!!!!

• that too w his first ever friend..................

• little did he know he was truly so engrossed in his thoughts that he had stopped eating and had been staring at the sky above for like ??? more than 5 mins now ??

• "MINHO ???????"

• he flinched and moved away a bit at the sound of ur voice suddenly piercing his thoughts

• "w-what"

• "bitch i thought u died or smthg...u have been staring above for so long pretty sure some flies even touched ur food and it's now UNHYGIENIC"

• his eyes met urs and, as if he got some idea, he suddenly kept his lunch box away to look at u

• "wait im pretty sure the flies didn't sit on the food!!!! it was a joke-"

• minho exhaled loudly before he spoke

• "y/n?"

• "yes…?"

• "can i ask u smthg…..?"

• "sure!!"

• minho inhaled sharply before continuing

• "do u ever feel uncomfortable? when ur with me?"

• u thought for a while, before giving him a smile and answering him

• "why would i? idk if ur referring to the rumors here...or if they're supposed to be involved here but...they don't affect me. firstly, i don't even know if ur dad truly is a part of the mafia-"

• "he is."

• minho was staring at u intently, wondering how u'll respond to this

• "well, uh, nice for him? i guess? but it's him right? not u? then there's nothing to worry about."

• minho shook his head as he tried to look anywhere but at u

• "but what if u ever get in trouble? bcs of me?"

• "that's on me. not u. and if it's through u, or if u ever get in trouble or smthg-"

• u picked his hand up, holding it tightly, which seemed to catch him off guard

• "-i will protect u."

• he could do nothing but give u a soft smile, before turning his head away

• and so did u bcs damn y/n since when did u become so confident huh JDVSJE

• so u decided to go for it

• "y/n, will u be my partne-"

• u gently pecked his lips before moving away real QUICK JSGEJE

• WAS HE ABT TO CONFESS ???????????

• WHY ARE HIS EYES WIDENED LIKE THAT?????????? DID U

• OH NO U DID SOMETHING WRONG DIDN'T U

• "i-i'm sorry….i didn't mean to-"

• and u looked up in time, only to see minho leaning in, before he connected his lips to urs

• it was a slow kiss

• it took u a while to get the fact into ur head that he's right here

• he is kissing u

• and so u snaked ur arms across his shoulders, as he held u tight, even closer

• and when u both pulled away

• both of u were flushed red

• and it did feel kinda quiet so u just

• "damn im glad we have lunch on the rooftop, huh"

• minho chuckled as he moved away

• "kinda ….. yes"

• and so for the next months u continued to tease him with this JDGSJS

• even tho yall are technically dating now uwu

• but he never tells u he likes u

• which is : frustrating

• bcs u !!!!!! UR THE BIGGEST OVERTHINKER EVER !!!!!!

• ENOUGH TO WIN A CHAMPIONSHIP !!!!!!!!!

• and the fact that EVEN THO he's ur bf and u KNOW it, u continue to be curious if he even likes u :(

• so u just slam ur spoon on the table

• which makes him look up

• "what? is the ramen too spicy?"

• u shoot ur head towards him, a pout on ur face

• "do u like me?"

• ".........what"

• JSHSKWKKW

• Y/N PLS

• "u never….u have never said u like me…...and yea sure im not supposed to question this bcs ur my boyfriend and i know that but im sorry i overthink alot and it's just me saying i like u all the time but not u and i just can't help but-"

• "i …….. i like."

• "huh?"

• u shoot ur head upwards at minho, who now gets up to keep his empty bowl in ur kitchen sink, with a grin along ur face

• "u heard me."

• and u wish u could still be as happy as u were on this day

• when he first confessed

• well, half-confessed

• but u couldn't be

• even as he stood in front of u, saying that he loves u

• and he's grateful for u

• u couldn't stop the tears that continued to stream down ur cheeks

• ur eyes could only focus on the gun that he held right beside his temple

• his dad used to send people behind minho whenever u two went on a date

• "he wants me to go on w his job after he resigns" minho had once told on one of ur dates

• "do u want to?"

• "no, obviously-"

• he held ur hand in his

• "i want to be with u"

• then why

• why was he standing there, with that gun

• that stupid gun aimed at his temple?

• today while u had closed ur eyes, wishing for something, like minho had told u when he brought that birthday cake for u out of nowhere while u and minho were having ur date

• u opened ur eyes when u heard a muffled voice screaming loudly

• only to find it was minho's

• which confused u when u saw the hand covering his mouth

• but surprised u, when u saw his dad standing right behind him

• he kept pulling minho away from u

• minho yelled, tried to free himself away

• but couldn't

• until u yelled at his dad to stop

• and minho dropped on the ground, with his wrists red from being grasped so tightly

• u went on and on abt how he has made minho feel and what minho truly wants

• u had shut ur eyes out of fear

• but u had opened them to see what minho truly wants

• death ;

• an escape

• from all of this

• and so he spoke one more time

• "y/n. remember, i love you, okay? i….i'll always keep my promise."

• and then, a gunshot.

• u weren't sure if time had stopped or if it was just u frozen

• but u could only hear a beep sound going in ur ears as his body dropped on the ground

• limp.

• and at once u leapt towards him, sobbing, u fell to ur knees, ur hands grazing his cheeks and gently hitting his chest

• "y/n…. i don't know how to go on…"

• he had told u this months ago, when u guys had been dating for abt 5 months then

• "minho, we'll always be together, no matter what. i, at least, will be there for u, always."

• minho had looked at u with tears in his eyes

• he rlly was so stupidly in love w u

• "but what if i...die...someday?"

• u sighed and turned to look at the night sky

• at least none of his dad's assistants had found out abt ur place yet

• (thankfully)

• u turned to look at him again

• "then...i'll die too."

• so that's what u were gonna do

• u searched for the pistol, as u blinked several times to focus properly

• when u finally found it, ur hands shakily reached for it

• and then as u aimed it at ur own temple

• the last part of that conversation popped into ur head again

• "then, will we meet each other in next life?"

• minho thought abt it for a few secs

• "probably"

• u nodded

• "i once heard that...when u fall for someone at first sight, it probably just means that we're recognising our partner's soul from our past life….do u think that will happen w us? do u think we'll…. we'll recognise each other?"

• "...i hope so…."

• u both let out a stifled laugh

• and so u stick ur pinky finger out, asking for his

• "minho."

• "yes?"

• "promise me."

• "promise what?"

• "promise that…...that we'll find each other.."

• minho was abt to argue w u but seeing ur lil pout

• he had no choice but to agree

• "promise."

• and so, another gunshot was heard.

48 notes · View notes

shroudedhero · 4 years ago

Text

Mobile Friendly Rules

Since I did it for Kurai’s info, here’s the rules (the updated ones)

THESE ARE JUST A FEW GENERAL THINGS I FEEL ARE IMPORTANT TO BE ADDRESSED BEFORE I GO ANY FURTHER, SO PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO READ THEM.

I know they seem long but some of it is also just information I thought was important for you to know before interacting with me. NOTE: THERE IS A PASSWORD FOR THIS BLOG DUE TO SEVERAL PAST BAD EXPERIENCES WITH UNTAGGED TRIGGERS (and it is the ONLY reason I have a password. I won’t throw a fit if you don’t send it, but I do usually feel more comfortable if you do).

Also another small, but extremely important note beforehand: Due to my autism, I tend to try to be extra clear (but also sometimes manage to be less clear in the process), or in my head it is clear, but to other people, it comes across entirely differently, but I’ve been informed this makes my rules sometimes come across as more aggressive, exclusionary, or mean. So I will say this now. I am actually a MASSIVE fluffball. Quite literally. The tone they come across is mainly due to overexplaining however I have tried to edit them and have yet to find a way to redefine my rules in better wording that I am happy with and that feels like it covers everything while actually being properly clear (but whenever I finally think of the right wording, I usually update my rules). So just approach them with the knowledge I am actually legitimately a sweetheart and my brain just sucks at actually wording stuff.

If you followed me over here when I moved Kurai’s BNHA verse to this blog, I removed and edited a couple of rules so please read through them again.

- ★ First and most important thing is that the mun has a very serious cannibalism trigger, which includes ANY form of people being eaten (including animals or monsters or any such other creatures eating people). (Excluding vampires, as that doesn’t typically involve the eating of human flesh, and rather simply blood itself (I am COMPLETELY fine with blood and general dark and gorey things). Zombies however, are included). As such, please tag all SNK or Hannibal related posts with such things in them, even the ones without such scenes in them, due to the fact that these two shows/fandoms are the reason I learned I have this trigger, and so the entire thing now can cause my trigger due to association, and memory connection to it. Also I ask that you tag any other shows/fandoms/gifs with such things in them as well. Please and thank you very much. My blacklisted tags are: SNK, Shingeki No Kyojin, Attack On Titan, AoT, tokyo ghoul, tg, Hannibal, Cannibalism, tw: cannibalism, parasyte, tokyo ghoul, twd, the walking dead, walking dead, zombies, and hunting trophies. Any form of these (capitalization does not matter, however spaces do) will be caught by my blacklist, so I would appreciate it if you’d use one of these for those posts (though I am also happy to add other tags to it as well if you have a specific system you use already). Also suggestions for other possible blacklist tags that I may have forgotten are much appreciated. Also as an added note, I will not follow, RP with, or associate in ANY WAY, any blogs that have to do with my triggers. (Multi-muse blogs can sometimes be okay, this more applies to blogs that post SPECIFICALLY about the fandoms that trigger me). If you are a multi-muse blog that has characters from these fandoms, all I ask is that you be sure to tag them with the fandom they are from, with one of the tags in my list, and tag any of the triggers. We’ll be perfectly fine if you do! If you don’t, I may eventually unfollow, just to avoid seeing unintentionally triggering content.

- Secondly, I am open to RPing smut, (either aged up, or not, since whether we like it or not, teenagers do indeed end up doing it), however it likely will not happen much since this muse is underage, and will only happen if both myself and the other mun are okay with it and have agreed to it. (Again, chances are slim.) I do prefer however if our smut RPs are placed under a read more, if at all possible.

- ★ I am autistic. I know I don’t seem like it at first, and sometimes it’s hard to tell, however I am, and I also have ADHD, and it does affect the way my mind works with things. Sometimes having things done certain ways makes all the difference between if I can do something or if I can’t. If it sounds like I want to do something, but seem to struggle with figuring out how, please feel free to make suggestions, or start the thing yourself! It’s actually REALLY helpful when I get stuck. My being autistic can also affect who I can roleplay with, and how I roleplay, and how I think. Please keep this in mind, and try to be understanding. If something bothers you, or you don’t understand something, just ask me! I’ll do my best to explain, or fix it.

- Though it may not always seem like it, I am VERY shy and awkward. I’m actually legitimately terrified of new people, and trying to talk to people I haven’t spoken to before, or very much yet, almost makes me feel like I’m going to have a panic attack. If you want to RP with me, please message me! Chances are I’d LOVE to chat with you and RP with you, I’m just too terrified to talk to you.

- I struggle with chronic depression, and sometimes I may disappear for a while if I have a spell that gets particularly bad. Please be patient with me, as I will never forget about you and will always return. Also since it needs to be said, I also have EXTREME, doctor diagnosed anxiety. Sometimes it gets the better of me. Same with depression. Sometimes I have bad days. So I vent, and get frustrated with things. Little things bother me a lot more than they would on a normal day. If you can’t handle that or are going to be a hypocrite about it then please just leave right now. I don’t need your negativity. I have enough unwanted of that in my head as it is, which I combat and fight against every day.

- I am a multiship/multiverse blog, however my muse will be very selective with shipping for the time being however I am still happy to discuss ships and will happily consider them. Also a note, that I will ship with multiples of the same character, if the mun of those blogs wishes to ship with me. I find each relationship is different, seeing as each mun plays their character a little differently.

- I will do crossovers sometimes with fandoms I am familiar with. Crossovers always depend on my mood and how well my muse can interact with a character, as well as how well I know the series the character is from. Please forgive me if I choose not to roleplay a specific crossover. I still like you, I promise. If you’re unsure if I know your fandom, just ask! I do know of a lot of fandoms, so there’s a good chance I might.

- I ship based on chemistry. Sometimes I can develop a ship quickly, especially if I know the other muse’s personality well, and know they will mesh well with mine. Other times, a ship takes time for me to develop. Please be understanding and patient with me on this.

- Do NOT under any circumstances, force a ship on me. I am usually quite good at expressing ships I am okay with, and it will usually show in my writing. If you are unsure if I ship something or not, feel free to send me a message and ask me. Most of my characters have their own way of showing interest in someone, however most are usually pretty clear in expressing it in some way. Sending memes for interaction is fine for anyone whether we have interacted or not, and I will usually reply to those, however do not force a ship on me outside of that. If one develops between our characters, then fine. However that is a MUTUAL thing, so I do not take kindly to someone just deciding something is a thing. If you want to try to build one between our characters, then go ahead. Just please show me respect. That is the biggest and most important thing with me, is respect.

- I will write anything from 1 liners to multi-paragraphs when I RP. I usually stick to 1 or two shortish paragraphs, and that tends to fluctuate or shrink depending on how much information is needed to describe a scene. If we start out with a shorter paragraph, and I make a reply a fair bit longer, I will likely revert back to the shorter paragraph again within 1 or 2 replies. However you are welcome to write however you wish, just as long as you can give me something to go on. (A one liner in response to a 10 line paragraph for example, I will struggle to reply to.)

- I do not tolerate anon hate of any kind. Not towards myself, nor towards others. I will respond to it in a way that will make the sender feel rather like an idiot, and I am very smart and capable of doing so, so please be advised of that, if you intend to do so.

- I will RP more violent NSFW RPs, and other dark topics (I absolutely LOVE angst), however ONLY as long as I am in the mood for them. The mun of this blog is (well) over 18. Everything though that might be triggering, will be tagged, and if there is something that you need me to tag, or if I forget to tag something, please feel free to tell me. Just try to do so right away or else I can forget which RPs or replies to tag depending how long it goes since I posted it. My memory is pretty fickle with what it chooses to remember without some nudging.

- ★ I am better at roleplaying ships with males (BoyxBoy/Yaoi/etc), due to being more familiar with it and having more experience with it ((as I myself am very very very gay, and also trans (which is where the issues with writing about female parts makes me very uncomfortable comes from) )). I may however attempt to ship romantically with female characters, but please keep in mind it is something I am not as good at or as comfortable with, so if in the end, I decide I am unable to do so, please be understanding of this. (Especially if smut is included in the ship. I cannot smut with female characters, sorry.)

- I am slightly fickle about things I can reply to. I try very hard to reply to everything, however one thing I am not good at, is sudden changes in roleplays. As much as I hate to admit it, and try to pretend it isn’t true, and even though I am quite good at managing it most times, I am autistic, (high functioning form of autism) and that is one of the few issues I struggle with the most. If you sense a roleplay is changing directions, please hint at it to me in the tags or something the reply before it does, since even that small little hint can be enough to help keep me from having to drop an RP. Even if you are unsure if it will or not, letting me know that you think it MIGHT possibly happen (since we don’t control our characters) is a huge help to me. This particular issue is the main reason that 95% of my dropped threads end up dropped. And I always feel terrible when it happens, so please help me to get better at this.

- I can be slow sometimes (or often) with asks or replies. This usually happens because of my muse being fickle or me thinking a meme or ask prompt would be fun, however sometimes when I actually get them, my muse decides to just be like NOPE. Also sometimes I tend to forget things, or leave stuff in my askbox to reply to later, and then I forget about it or get distracted. If this happens, I apologize. Please try to be understanding of this, since I will NEVER ignore you or your asks on purpose. (The only case where it would be ignored is if it is something stated in my rules that I cannot respond to, that you obviously failed to read or are attempting to do anyway.) I do reblog things with the INTENT to answer EVERYTHING that shows up in my inbox, however my intentions don’t always pan out.

- I do not do the reblog from the source thing (not consistently anyway). I used to try to do it every single time (if I notice it), though now, I am sorry but I have had so many anxiety attacks due to my attention span which I cannot help due to having ADHD, and accidentally reblogging memes and such from someone who has that rule without even realizing it as I am scrolling down the dash because I don’t even realize who reblogged the meme, and then panicking because I realize it later, or get yelled at over it. I follow at least like 30+ meme blogs and the majority of memes on my dash tend to be from the source, so sometimes I don’t notice! Roleplay for me needs to remain stress free, because stress can trigger a major/serious depression spell and as of recently I FINALLY am stable emotionally. So please forgive me if I don’t bother with it. Because I probably won’t do it (consistently anyway).

Next topic of discussion.

Concerning OCs and shipping with them (Please see this post for some further clarification on this, since this is the part that I have the most issue with making clear, though I really do try):

- I am in fact OC supportive! Though when it comes to RPing with them, I can be extremely picky, and cautious. This has nothing to do with whether your OC is great or well developed or not. My brain annoyingly happens to have trouble connecting to a lot of characters, both OC and canon, but it just seems to be more common with other people’s OCs. HOWEVER, just because I might not RP with your OC, doesn’t mean I won’t secretly stalk them from the dash and read your interactions because I think they’re amazing.

- I WILL NOT ship my muses with other OCs, unless they are extremely well developed. This is simply because unless I personally can form some form of an an emotional connection/understanding to/of a character, my own muse will be unable to do so as well. (This can also apply to canon characters as well, so it is not simply limited to OCs).

- I am also very picky with RPing with other OCs, because of the same reason stated above. I will however roleplay with them sometimes, and do not in any way dislike them. I rather love OCs, and the diversity and color they bring to fandoms, and I actually have lots of OCs of my own for different fandoms, I just cannot always connect to them, and in those cases, I will not be able to roleplay with them. I apologize. HOWEVER. If possible, I will happily do platonic RPs with OCs that my muses happen to click with.

The types of characters/OCs I am usually unable to roleplay with, are the following, which includes a list of reasons why:

- ★ OCs that are not connected to any fandom in particular/Multifandom OCs. Basically as I like to call them, floaters or drifters. I may attempt to roleplay with these. It can still be iffy, because my brain can sometimes make stuff more difficult than it actually is or needs to be, and it depends on each particular OC, but as I have recently been developing a fandomless OC myself, I find my understanding of them has grown a bit. That said, sometimes I need to be able to connect them with something, as each fandom has a specific world to them. I need a consistent, solid world anchor to be able to understand the character, which drifters don’t have, so I can struggle to RP with them. I’m willing to try though!

- OCs from fandoms I am unfamiliar with. If I don’t know what sort of world/background your character comes from, it leaves me guessing too much and confused. I have attempted to roleplay with them anyway in the past and it just doesn’t work.

- OCs with very little backstory and information, or with a confusing one, or even with none at all. In essence, poorly made OCs. I need info to RP with you. At least seriously. So sorry. I need to be able to understand your character at least a little, since I don’t do good with “lets play a guessing game” or “I literally have no idea what I’m doing” or “what the hell is going on” sort of RPs, and I have never been good at them, and so I need clear, concise information on your character.

- Canonically (or noncanon since this is an OC as well) unknown family member OCs. Whether it’s a sibling for my character or for someone else’s that was never mentioned in canon, I just can’t. (If you want to RP a family member of my character that I have mentioned in my character’s info, please ask me beforehand as I usually have an idea already of what their family member is like, but usually I will be okay with that as long as you ask me first before just going ahead and doing it.) I’ve never been able to RP with them, for a multitude of reasons, one of the main being they often end up reminding me of the bad version of self inserts or genderbends. I have been unsuccessful at breaking this way of thinking towards them despite attempting to many times, and so I just cannot do it, personally. I am sorry.

Important reminder: Please note that I suck at explaining this somewhat, and just because my brain struggles with roleplaying with certain characters does not mean I dislike your muse or think they suck! I can think your OC is absolutely AMAZING and they can be SUPER well written and developed and I can want to interact but my brain is just dumb and if I try to my brain just refuses. These SAME issues can happen with canon characters too, I have simply noticed it more with other OCs, thus the specific section for them.

Those are all the ones I can think of right now. I am very sorry to anyone who has one of these and wants to RP with me, however I simply cannot do it, personally. I’m sure there are plenty of other people out there though who would love to RP with you even though I cannot, and just because I will not RP with you doesn’t mean I dislike you or your character. I’d be happy to still be friends with you, I just won’t be able to RP with you. I’m someone who needs to be able to connect to the character I am roleplaying with on at least SOME level, for my character to be able to connect to them as well, so if I am unable to do that then I am unable to roleplay with them. (This can include as well, the WAY someone roleplays, since if there is no emotion or thought or description in replies, it gives me nothing to go on and connect to, and leaves me unable to respond, even if I WANT to RP with you.)

★ I hate to have to do this (and I never used to have a password), however I have had A LOT of trouble with people not reading and following my rules in the past, and or speaking about or talking about/not tagging my major trigger, so if you have read my rules, please inbox me with “Catshark” (I prefer Inbox over IMs for the password so I can keep track forever of who sent it in). I ask this of people because it also helps a lot with my anxiety, and keeps me from wondering and worrying in the back of my mind if I might actually get triggered by something. I know it can be tedious to do this extra step, and I hate that I even had to add this step in the first place, however after years of roleplaying, and dealing with people, it became necessary due to several bad past experiences in tumblr fandoms. It was not added on a whim, so please take the time to do so. Also, I do understand that you probably follow a hundred blogs that all have their own rules, so if you forget stuff, that’s okay! I do it too. The password is just so I know it is safe for me to approach you and remind you of something if you do forget. Otherwise, I tend to sit here and kind of panic about if I can mention something to you (it has happened before that someone who didn’t send it in and came across friendly bit my head off when I asked them to tag something), and it means I am more likely to unfollow or stop interacting, or even block you eventually due to my anxiety. And I don’t want that to happen over a silly misunderstanding.

There may be more added to this later if I think of something. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

#Mobile friendly info #mobile friendly #Rules

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thetiredbiwrites · 5 years ago

Text

I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone Pt.3

Peter x sister!Reader Bucky x Reader

Summary: Peter finally convinces reader to tell Bucky about the baby

A/N: So.. I’m finally posting. Sorry it’s taken like a month to do this. End of summer work season was madness and I’ve just started back at Uni doing a masters after a year off (why the fuck have done this to myself? 😱😂). I also struggled with the last half of this but I’ve done what I can 😅

onechaoticbitch Yes, Bucky must know and now he does! :) @mad4oak ‘spawn’ 🤣🤣 @raindancer2004 @onlythedustoftherabiola @galacticstxrdust (thanks for commenting guys)

Part 1 Part 2

Words: 1830

You answered every question Peter had for the next two hours, work completely forgotten. He really did want to know everything. Well, not everything.

“You know you need to tell him, right?”

The tone got serious. You knew he was right. You had to tell Bucky, you couldn’t avoid him forever. Aside from the fact that you work/live in the same building, you couldn’t do it. You’d already avoided him for the last week and it was breaking you, you missed him.

“I know I do. But…I’m scared, Peter.”

Your voice got tight and you could feel your eyes burning, tears building. Telling Bucky was a terrifying thought. You couldn’t help the questions and fears that ran through your head. Bucky had adjusted amazingly over the last two years- a year in Wakanda before moving to the compound- but on occasion he still doubted himself. He still didn’t think he deserved all the good things he now had and was still worried he would hurt someone.

What if he didn’t want this? What if this set him back and undid the work he’d done? What if he left? Did he even want kids? Did he want them with you? Did he want you?

You were scared for him and yourself. Your worries and insecurities growing with each day. A new thought would pop up and stop you from replying to his texts or answering his calls.

“What are you scared of? Sounds like you guys really love each other.”

“But what if he doesn’t want this? What if he doesn’t want me?”

Your head dropped, looking at your lap as you nervously played with your fingers and silent tears slid down your face. In front of you, Peter sat shocked. He couldn’t fathom anyone knowing you and not wanting you in their life. You’ve been insecure since you were a teenager, but over the recent years you had become more confident and seeing you happy made Peter happy.

“Of course, he wants you! He’d be mad if he didn’t. You are the best person I know. You’re a smart, patient, caring, loving, badass, sarcastic, funny and awesome person. You’re amazing and, like the rest of us Parkers, beautiful.”

A small smile rested on your lips as you let out a short laugh, looking up at your brother. He sat with a smile, gesturing to his face with his hands to back up his statement.

Holding your hands in his, your little brother sent you a reassuring smile, “I am like 97% sure that he will not leave you. He is a good man and he clearly loves you. If he betrays that, then he’s in trouble. Aunt May will kick his ass back to the 40’s.”

You both laughed, imaging your Aunt beating the metal-armed, ex-assassin, super-soldier. And she would win.

Peter brushed some hair out of your face before placing a kiss on your forehead. Leaning back, he gave you a comforting smile before handing you your phone and leaving the lab.

Pacing the front room of your apartment, you bit your nails and ran your hand through your hair as you had been for the last 45 minutes. After Peter left, you had texted Bucky, asking him to come to your place to talk. He had replied immediately, letting you know he would be there at 8.

It was now 7.56 and you felt like you were going to pass out. Your heart was racing, and your head was screaming. You could only think the worst case. Bucky was going to walk out as soon as you told him.

As the clock ticked 7.59 there was a knocking on your door, freezing you in your tracks. The carpet grateful for a reprieve before you wore a hole straight through. Staring at the door with wide eyes, you took a deep shaking breath, and called for him to come in.

Wringing your hands together you hoped the smile on your face looked normal as Bucky closed the door and walked over to you in three quick strides, planting a quick but sweet kiss on your lips.“I’ve missed you. Are you ok? I haven’t heard from you in days.”

Bucky’s hands stayed on your arms, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, a habit he didn’t even realise he did but always calmed you. The warm look on his face, graced with a small smile and loving eyes made you melt. Everything about him screamed love for you and you hoped you weren’t imagining it as it gave you some confidence to tell him.

“Yeah, I’m ok, I just- I have to- I ne-“ you sighed, briefly closing your eyes before taking a deep breath. “Can we sit and talk?”

You gestured to the couch and Bucky nodded, looking both worried about this talk and concerned for you.

You sat in silence for what felt like hours but in reality was only 3 minutes. Playing with your fingers and looking into your lap, scared to look at Bucky even though you could feel his eyes on you, you tried to find the right words.

“Doll, you’re scaring me.” Bucky hesitantly spoke up, you were uncharacteristically quiet. You always had something to say, something to talk to him about. He could, would and has listened to you for hours, not always sure what you were talking about. Unless you were in the lab and concentrating on something, you could out-talk your brother.

“You know you tell me anything, right? You said you wanted to talk but you haven’t said-“

“I’m pregnant.” You cut Bucky off. So quietly you were surprised he heard you.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant” you repeated, louder but with a trembling voice. Your eyes burned, tears building, heart pounding deafeningly in your ears as you await his reaction.

His face held pure shock. Frozen with wide, unblinking eyes and mouth slightly ajar, you couldn’t get a read on him.

“Bucky-?”

“Pregnant?” his voice so quiet you only just caught it. His eyes flitted down to your stomach and back up to your face before he promptly stood up, a shaky had running through his hair.

“Oh my-. Pregnant. She’s pregnant. A baby-“ Bucky started talking to himself under his breath as he paced, not looking at you, while hands ran through his hair and over his face.“I can’t… I can’t have… I’m not… baby… father…”

You caught less and less of his conversation with himself as your own emotions bubbled over. He didn’t want this. He was going to leave. You were going to be alone. Your whole body shook as tears cascaded down your cheeks, lips trembling as you continued wringing your hands together, fingers gripping each other tightly.

Bucky stopped mid-sentence as a quiet sniffle and sharp intake of breath broke through his bubble. He snapped towards you, still in place on the couch, head down and hair curtaining your face, but he still knew you were crying, trying not to make a sound and start bawling. His heart broke looking at you and he promptly took his seat again.“Doll-“

You took a sharp breath, quickly wiping your tears, shaking your head and looking at him with a small smile you prayed didn’t look too forced. “It’s ok. It’s a lot, I know. It’s a big responsibility, we never talked about this. It’s a lot to ask and I never-“

You were cut off as Bucky place his hands over yours, stopping your assault on your hands as you dug your nails into your palms. Looking up at his face, his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes glued to you.

“You think I’m going to leave?” his quiet voice indignant at the insinuation.

“Well, I just-I. You, you might not, want this, or be ready. I know you’re still adjusting, and a baby is a big thing. I don’t want to put you in a bad position or pressure you. It’s a lot to ask and expect after everything you’ve been through. You’d also be stuck with me and I don’t want you to-“

“Stop.” His voice was firm but held no malice or anger. He moved closer to you, keeping one hand on yours, he used the other to lift your chin up, his thumb gently gliding over your bottom lip before holding your chin in place, preventing you from looking away.

“I’m not going anywhere. Ever. It is big. It’s huge and I’m not ready. But is anyone really ready? Are you?”

His hand moved to cup your cheek as he wiped away a tear. You leaned into his touch, not taking your eyes off him. “But just because I’m scared, and I have a list of worries the length of my arm, and growing, doesn’t mean I don’t want this. Meeting you is by far the best thing that has ever happened to me. I never thought I’d find someone like you. I’m far more adjusted and comfortable here because of you. I’ve been able to see a future for myself because of you and in every version is you. I wouldn’t be ‘stuck’ with you, doll. I want you. Both of you.”

He leaned in and kissed you, slowly and filled with love. You could taste the salt of your tears that ran freely down your face. Foreheads touching and eyes closed he whispered an ‘I love you’.

Looking at him through teary eyes you whispered back an ‘I’m sorry’. Leaning back, Bucky sent you a small, genuine smile as he moved a piece of hair out of your face.

“I shouldn’t have assumed. That wasn’t fair of me. I just got scared and irrational. I’m not ready either and I didn’t even know if you wanted kids or me in your life forever, we still haven’t even told the others we’re dating and-“

“That is irrational. Definitely ridiculous. You clearly need me to stay because you don’t realise how great you are. I need to be here to stop those thoughts from taking over and prove to you that you are perfect.”

Smiling, you looked away slightly. Bucky had been complimenting you and telling you how beautiful, or smart, or funny etc. you were since you met, but you still got shy. Some days you still found it unbelievable, but Bucky always made sure to make you feel like the most important person. He was always genuine and made you feel loved. How could you have doubted him?

“No one’s perfect” you muttered.

“Well you are pretty damn close.” He smiled, blue eyes taking in your face before he placed a kiss on your forehead.

You both rested back on the sofa, your head on Bucky’s chest as he ran his metal fingers through your hair, his other hand resting on your not-yet-showing stomach.

“Guess our secret relationship is over, we’ll have to tell everyone now.”

“Peter already knows.”

“Of course he does” Bucky laughed, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

#do i do another of them telling the others?#telling everyone at once?#individually?#avengers imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #peter parker x sister reader #avengers reader insert

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velmautism · 5 years ago

Text

Impressions

Tired of everyone making assumptions about her, who she's meant to be, and the way she's meant to act, Velma finally takes matters into her own hands. After all, the best way to correct someone is to prove them wrong.

I will post a warning just because I'm pissed at the weird horniness for the girls, especially Velma. Talks a quite bit about objectification and sexualization. But, there is also friendly fluff within after Velma takes matters into her own hands. Involves lots of my chaotic neutral take on Velma.

Reads/comments appreciated so I can make better stories in the future! I will work on the MH!AU later too so don't worry, I just wanted to do something else.

Maybe I'm sick of them assuming I'm something I'm not.

"Does she act as much as the rest of you? It's assumed that she doesn't need to be outside as much, so long as you could supply her with info and clues!"

"She charmed the socks off that Norton boy, she must be good with men!"

Body this, body that.

"Why doesn't she wear makeup?"

They even ask me why I'm not always as "put together" and photogenic as Daphne.

Her looks are her choice, she rocks them, but that isn't me. If I'm gonna be running around, getting dirty in order to find clues, etc. I'm not going to pretty myself for the publicity.

She was shocked and hurt when months ago, she found out people commented on her bust size and nothing to do with a case she had played a huge part in. They left that glory to Fred. They also talked about her waist and how she refused weight loss programs.

One, they're a load of bullshit. They all are. Two, why can't I just have a body? Why am I subject to scrutiny over my appearance and not something I really care about?

The aftermath of the Frankencreep case was also a nightmare because her costume while hypnotized was publicized. She didn't feel safe outside alone for weeks.

She wasn't even sure what had happened to her, but when finding out, she was incredibly embarrassed. The dress didn't leave much to the imagination, much to her horror.

It's because I'm a girl, isn't it?

She sighed, squeezing her hands into fists as she leaned over the bathroom sink.

"What's behind the bookish bespectacled girl that we don't see?"

Lots, if you care to look deeper.

It isn't fair....

I'm not even that nerdy, or bookish, and I'm certainly not sweet. That isn't for me.

She glanced up into the mirror, studying her brown hair, dark eyes, the freckles dotting her face.

What about the glasses, the sweater/skirt combo, and my hair makes them think I, of all people, am the submissive, sweet, and shy type? The quiet nerd with a secret wild side? I'm smart as hell, but I'm not sweet. And if they knew my "wild side," they would be terrified.

The truth was, in a case, she never cared much for the whims of others. She wasn't above manipulating others, but not in a "charming" way.

If they knew how many people I've blackmailed, blatantly lied to, tricked, all for the purpose of solving the mystery... Well, maybe there's one advantage to them having the wrong impression of me.

But then people assume things.

I've heard them call me shy.

Sweet.

Innocent.

Nerdy.

Curvy, if they're really gross.

All of it is disgusting to me.

They tell me to be something I'm not.

She looked down, not wanting to look at her reflection, if just for a while.

To her left, she spotted rounded blue plastic buried under a washcloth.

She grabbed the handles and stopped to stare at the pair of scissors in her hand, gleaming under the light.

"Hmm...." She finally contemplated aloud. "The best way to change their impressions of me.... Is to do it myself."

She seized the locks of brown hair near the nape of her neck before committing herself to this. She was going to be exactly what she wanted others to see.

Snip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Velma! Come get a look at this!" Fred hollered up the stairs.

Well, this is it. I can't really go back now.

.....

I can't wait.

Fred stood unassumingly at the foot of the stairs as Velma's silhouette emerged from her bedroom.

As she came down the stairs, he noticed she wasn't wearing her trademark knee socks. Or maybe she was, but the pants she wore concealed them. Instead of the red slightly elevated shoes she always wore, a pair of worn canvas sneakers covered her feet. The jeans were wrinkled and unkempt, clearly lighter and more worn near the knees. She had swapped her sweater for a black shirt and a plaid jacket, and had a watch on her right wrist. Then he noticed her new hair.

It was much shorter in the back and much less conventionally feminine. There was no fringe, only messy hair framing her forehead and dark eyes.

"Yeah?" She asked, as soon as she was standing in front of him.

"Uh, maybe another time."

"Fred, I just changed how I look. I'm still Velma, you know."

"Oh! Okay, I wasn't sure if you just needed a minute. I love the hair. Very fluffy."

Velma rolled her eyes but smirked anyway.

"Thanks, I chose it myself."

"It's better, if I'm being honest. The old hair didn't really suit you."

"You think so?" She tried not to sound snide.

"Oh, for sure! The old hair made you look more like you care about being visibly a girl, and I know you're not about that. It makes you look like you mean business. Anyway, did you hear about the robbery at this bank-?"

A loud gasp came from behind Velma. She turned around to see Daphne, slack-jawed.

"Oh, my god. You look incredible! Wow, you've really changed things up, haven't you?! Where did you go to get your hair done? I love that texture on you, it's super cute!"

"Oh, I went to the bathroom sink and lopped it off."

"Wait, really? Oh, no kidding! I was wondering if you finally found a stylist that really 'got' you. Well, no one knows you better than yourself!"

"I really appreciate it, Daphne, but that honestly wasn't the point of changing my looks. The point was to make myself look more the way I feel. People make a lot of assumptions about me that are wrong and unfair, and I'm sick of it. You pull off feminine really well because you love it, and it suits you well. But... It isn't me. It doesn't work."

Shaggy stepped into the living room and froze as Velma spoke, her voice quivering just a little bit.

"This change was for me. I don't want people to see me and tell me I'm cute, or say weird things, or mistake me for a sweet little nerd girl. They think I'm morally pure, that I'm a charmer, that I'm delicate and frail but should also be the sexy girl sitting at the computer. The gamer girlfriend stereotype, if you will."

Daphne nodded.

"I'm sorry if I came off as insensitive. That definitely wasn't my intention. Honestly, this new look is so good for you! If I hadn't met you and known you, I'd be intimidated by you. You look like you're ready to take on the entire world headfirst."

"No, you don't have to worry about being insensitive. Again, like I said, I appreciate the compliment! That just wasn't the point, you know?"

"Well, the rest of the world will think it was, unfortunately, for the first few weeks."

"I know. I'm ready to take that on, and I'm going to be different from what they believe. No more nice nerd that smiles and talks about sweaters and books and maybe the clues, if I'm lucky. No. I'm Velma Dinkley, and I'm here to kick ass in the name of solving a good mystery!"

"Amen!" Daphne high-fived her.

"Like, can I mention something else that may not be the point?"

Velma smiled.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Like, your new 'do with that jacket totally makes you, like, look like a lesbian."

"THANK YOU!"

Daphne snickered into her hand.

"Maybe now they won't say I'm good with men, because I'm NOT. I am GAY, BABY!!"

"So I'm guessing this is how you're coming out?" Fred asked.

Velma stared at him as though he were an idiot.

"You'd better be kidding, because I think it's quite clear that-!"

Fred laughed heartily. "Of course I was kidding, Velms! Look, we all figured it out a LONG time ago."

Velma shrugged.

"I'm still coming out publicly. That I've decided on."

"And we're naturally going to stand by you."

"That's why you all are the best."

Fred and Daphne sandwiched her in a hug and were quickly joined by Shaggy and Scooby.

"If I'm being honest, I also don't know if I'm a girl, but that's a whole other can of worms."

Shaggy laughed, patting her shoulder.

"Like, if you figure it out, let me know and I can get you, like, any resources you need! I've been in this game for, like, six years, and I've never looked back!"

"God, you guys are the best! I don't know what I'd do without you."

"We love you, too, Velma."

She closed her eyes, melting into the embrace from those who truly cared the most about her.

#expect an art if i have the spoons #i'll be honest though depression is killing me at the moment #i promise i'll be okay though #scooby doo #fanfiction #my fanfiction #scooby doo fanfiction #velma dinkley #daphne blake #shaggy rogers #fred jones

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ma-sulevin · 5 years ago

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2019 in Fic

I was tagged by @amistrio, @seedlingsinner, @starsandskies, and @alyssalenko

Favorite fic you wrote this year: Oh, I didn’t really publish that many different things to AO3 in 2019. The first half of the year I was miserable, summer I was half busy half unhappy, and then in the fall I started cranking out my FC5 fic. Writing wasn’t that common before that.

Anyway, my favorite is probably “One Moment.” It’s about Ellen Ryder waking up in Andromeda to a cure for her AEND and having to face what Alec did to her and what her kids did to each other in her absence.

Least favorite fic you wrote this year: I don’t dislike many fics that I write, honestly. I don’t know how to choose this one.

Favorite line/scene you wrote this year: The first fic I wrote for Mattie and Sharky still makes me laugh. It’s from Sharky’s POV, which was so much fun to write, and he’s really enjoying her casual contact, and then he gets all distracted worrying about how she’s perceiving it:

He clutches the beer can a little tighter, ignoring the condensation wetting his fingers, wishing she’d put her feet back in his lap or something so he can the warmth of her again, the comfort that doesn’t stop him from saying everything that pops into his head but makes him feel better for the touch. How long has it been since someone just… was willing to sit, touching?

Oh, god. He hopes she doesn’t think he has a foot fetish, or something, the way he’s always grabbing for her feet when they’re close. She hasn’t said anything about it, and she seems to like the massages, but, like, that’s not really his thing. Not that he minds it, but it’s not really toes that get him going.

Total number of words you wrote this year: ~100,000 probably?

Most popular fic this year: Accidentally on Purpose, which was part of the ME Reverse Big Bang, and was basically just Kandros smut.

Least popular fic this year: Probably 5000 Credits, but that’s just because it’s a gen fic and those don’t get as much attention. It’s James Vega and Hazel Shepard and a little anecdote about their friendship.

Longest completed fic you wrote this year: Longest completed is All I Want, a Vega/Ryder fic, clocking in at just shy of 10,000 words.

Shortest completed fic you wrote this year: A Vancouver Halloween, part of a Halloween gift exchange, clocking in at 751 words.

Longest WIP of the year: Definitely rise from the ashes. I wrote about 50,000 for it in 2019, and there’s going to be another 15-20k of it in 2020.

Shortest WIP of the year: I have 515 words done for the next installment of Avery and James’ story.

Favorite character to write about this year: Of my own, Avery and Mattie. Of canon, James and Sharky.

Favorite writing song/artist/album of this year: I usually just watch TV while I’m writing because I’m an ADHD monster. I have some good character playlists on Spotify though. Mattie’s is my favorite.

A fic you didn’t expect to write: Anything for Far Cry.

Fic(s) you completed this year: I completed a bunch of short ones.

Fics you’ll continue next year: rise, the next one for James/Avery, probably my post-Destroy Shenko fic that I have half-finished but haven’t named. Oh, and Chelsea’s story -- I want to explore a different ending option for FC5 and see where it takes me.

Current number of WIPs: Active? Two. I’ve been going back and forth between Mattie and Chelsea’s stories as the mood strikes me. I have more waiting. Watching. Planning their revenge.

Any new fics to start next year: I have a gift exchange currently going, and I already have an idea for the ME Big Bang in April.

Most memorable comment/review: Ummmmmmmm. My brain is too tired to pick out just one. @heroofshield has always been super supportive and enthusiastic about my Ryder/Vega stuff and @chyrstis has been incredibly supportive as I got rise started. They’re always at the back of my mind when I’m working on those stories.

Events you participated in this year: ME Reverse Big Bang, Leather and Lace Romance Week (or MER Week? I can’t remember what was in July), a Halloween ME/DA gift exchange, and a FC5 gift exchange.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t: I toyed around a bit with a bad AU for Mattie, and I wrote the intro, but my interest in that fizzled out. I don’t think it would have been well-received, but here’s my favorite line I did manage to write:

Only God can judge her now, and He's going to have to answer for what He's done to her first.

Favorite fic you read this year/ A fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read : Uuuuugh I don’t know. Don’t ask me that.

Number of favorites/bookmarks you made this year: I bookmarked 10 this year (not counting ones that are saved privately as to-reads), and none before June, in case you didn’t believe me about the first half of the year being Unpleasant.

Favorite fanfic author of the year: I really hate doing these because I’m always terrified I’ll leave someone out.

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kokoro-no-kizuna · 4 years ago

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Mobile Friendly Rules (Read Before Interacting)

THESE ARE JUST A FEW GENERAL THINGS I FEEL ARE IMPORTANT TO BE ADDRESSED BEFORE I GO ANY FURTHER, SO PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO READ THEM.

I know they seem long but some of it is also just information I thought was important for you to know before interacting with me. And a lot of it is generic stuff too but please still read anyway.

- ★ First and most important thing is that the mun has a very serious cannibalism trigger, which includes ANY form of people being eaten (including animals or monsters or any such other creatures eating people). (Excluding vampires, as that doesn’t typically involve the eating of human flesh, and rather simply blood itself. Zombies however, are included). As such, please tag all SNK or Hannibal related posts, especially with such things in them, but even the ones without such scenes in them, due to the fact that these two shows/fandoms are the reason I learned I have this trigger, and so the entire thing now can cause my trigger due to association, and memory connection to it. Also I ask that you tag any other shows/fandoms/gifs with such things in them as well. Please and thank you very much. My blacklisted tags are: SNK, Shingeki No Kyojin, Attack On Titan, AoT, tokyo ghoul, tg, Hannibal, Cannibalism, tw: cannibalism, twd, the walking dead, walking dead, zombies, and hunting trophies. Any form of these (capitalization does not matter, however spaces do) will be caught by my blacklist, so I would appreciate it if you’d use one of these for those posts. Also suggestions for other possible blacklist tags that I may have forgotten are much appreciated. Also as an added note, I will not follow, RP with, or associate in ANY WAY, any blogs that have to do with my triggers. (Multi-muse blogs can sometimes be okay, this more applies to blogs that post SPECIFICALLY about the fandoms that trigger me). If you are a multi-muse blog that has characters from these fandoms, all I ask is that you be sure to tag them with the fandom they are from, with one of the tags in my list, and tag any of the triggers. We’ll be perfectly fine if you do!

- Secondly, I am not here just to to roleplay smut. I WILL do so if I feel like it and if the roleplay goes that direction after building up the relationship, however I am not here for that. I do prefer however if our smut RPs are placed under a read more, if at all possible. I will not RP smut with underage muns however. Underage muses, depending on the age (and if our muses are close to the same age, eg: Both our muses are 16, cuz teenagers do things, as much as we might dislike the fact they do, and no matter how much we wish they wouldn’t) I may still write it. It’s very dependent on the particular muses. I will not RP smut with a muse that is 18 or over, and a muse that is underage. I will not RP smut with muses that are legitimate children (14 and under). However despite my willingness to write it, it doesn’t mean that it will happen if the other mun is not comfortable with. I don’t force it. I don’t need it. I just basically accept that that kind of stuff happens, and it’s a very realistic thing. My nsfw tag is #n;sfw so you are aware, because the original nsfw tag doesn’t work as well anymore.

- I am a multiship/multiverse blog, however my muses will likely be very selective with shipping for the time being however I am still happy to discuss ships and will happily consider them. Also a note, that I will ship with multiples of the same character, if the mun of those blogs wishes to ship with me. I find each relationship is different, seeing as each mun plays their character a little differently.

- I will RP more violent NSFW RPs, however ONLY as long as I am in the mood for them. Anything triggering will be tagged. The mun of this blog is (well) over 18.

- Apologies, but I absolutely WILL NOT RP with people who RP in first person. It is something I cannot stand and I just will not do it.

- ★ I am better at roleplaying ships with males (BoyxBoy/Yaoi/etc), due to being more familiar with it and having more experience with it ((as I myself am very very very gay, and also trans (which is where the issues with writing about female parts makes me very uncomfortable comes from) )). I may however attempt to ship romantically with female characters, since romantic ships I can do, but please keep in mind it is something I am not as good at or as comfortable with, so if in the end, I decide I am unable to do so, please be understanding of this. (Especially if smut is included in the ship. I cannot smut with female characters, sorry. I am well aware it’s dumb that my brain rebels to it but it doesn’t change the fact that it does.)

- I can be slow sometimes (or often) with asks or replies. This usually happens because of my muse being fickle or me thinking a meme or ask prompt would be fun, however sometimes when I actually get them, my muse decides to just be like NOPE, or my depression kicks up and I lose all motivation. Also sometimes I tend to forget things, or leave stuff in my askbox to reply to later, and then I forget about it or get distracted. If this happens, I apologize. Please try to be understanding of this, since I will NEVER ignore you or your asks on purpose. (The only case where it would be ignored is if it is something stated in my rules that I cannot respond to, that you obviously failed to read or are attempting to do anyway.) I do reblog things with the INTENT to answer EVERYTHING that shows up in my inbox, however my intentions don’t always pan out.

Next topic of discussion.

Concerning OCs and shipping with them:

- ★ OCs that are not connected to any fandom in particular/Multifandom OCs. Basically as I like to call them, floaters or drifters. I may attempt to roleplay with these. It can still be iffy, because my brain can sometimes make stuff more difficult than it actually is or needs to be, and it depends on each particular OC, but as I have recently been developing a few fandomless OCs myself, I find my understanding of them has grown a bit. That said, sometimes I need to be able to connect them with something, as each fandom has a specific world to them. I need a consistent, solid world anchor to be able to understand the character, which drifters don’t have, so I can struggle to RP with them. I’m willing to try though! I believe this issue is connected to my being autistic, since certain things my brain just refuses to understand unless it is worded a certain way or done a certain way.

- ★ Self insert OCs. Really. Please just no. I cannot stand self inserts above all else other than Shipper OCs. Admittedly, there are a rare few good ones out there. (And those are fine). However those tend to be very few and far between, and 98% of them tend to fall into the not so good category to put it nicely, and I just.. I can’t do it. There is nothing else to say to this except just NO. I apologize for this, however I just can’t. Also, this applies to FULLY self inserts. This does not apply to characters that simply share some traits with you, as often we roleplay a character because we can connect to them somehow.

- Canon Genderbends (there are exceptions sometimes with these). This subject is a touchy one, since my mind is very rigid unfortunately when it comes to how I view them. This might stem from my own personal gender struggle (as I am trans and FtM), however genderbends have always been something I have a lot of issues with, and so 98% of the time, I will not RP with them because I have to fight my mind to reply. Temporary genderswap M!A’s however, when handled properly, are no issue for me, and in such cases I will happily roleplay with them.

- Shipper OCs. The type of character I hate more than any other. If you made your OC just so you could ship with a bunch of people and that is the only purpose for their existence, do not even talk to me, or approach my character. Don’t even try. I literally cannot stand these types, and they fall right up there with my hatred of self inserts. So sorry. But just no. This doesn’t mean I ship shame if your muse happens to end up in lots of ships. That’s fine. It happens. I know the feeling when muses just click with lots of other muses. Sometimes it’s like that. But if their ONLY purpose for existing, is just so you can ship with endless characters, please go away right now.

- Canonically unknown family member OCs. Whether it’s a sibling for my character or for someone else’s that was never mentioned in canon, I just can’t. (If you want to RP a family member of my character that I have mentioned in my character’s info, please ask me beforehand as I usually have an idea already of what their family member is like, but usually I will be okay with that as long as you ask me first before just going ahead and doing it.) I’ve never been able to RP with them, for a multitude of reasons, one of the main being they often end up reminding me of self inserts or genderbends. I have been unsuccessful at breaking this way of thinking towards them despite attempting to many times, and so I just cannot do it, personally. I am sorry.

★ I hate to have to do this, however I have had A LOT of trouble with people not reading and following my rules in the past, and or speaking about or talking about/not tagging my major trigger, so if you have read my rules, please inbox or IM me with “Catshark”. I ask this of people because it also helps a lot with my anxiety, and keeps me from wondering and worrying in the back of my mind if I might actually get triggered by something. I know it can be tedious to do this extra step, and I hate that I even had to add this step in the first place, however after years of roleplaying, and dealing with people, it became necessary due to several bad past experiences in tumblr fandoms. It was not added on a whim, so please take the time to do so.

There may be more added to this later if I think of something. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

#mobile friendly rules post #blog rules

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zoocross0vers · 5 years ago

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A Zootopian Christmas Carol Part 2: The Ghost of Christmas Past

Yeah I know Christmas is over, but what are you gonna do? I still haven’t lost my Christmas cheer yet, lol! Hope you enjoy! :D

***This is also posted on my Fanfiction page***

FF link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13461657/2/A-Zootopian-Christmas-Carol

…

Chapter 2: The Past

The clock struck midnight with a light ding. Bogo stirred for a moment but immediately went back to sleep. Precisely five seconds later, he heard a soft gentle voice call him in the distance.

“Bogo...Bogo…”

He opened an eye, but closed it back up, believing it was nothing.

“You really are a heavy sleepa aren’t ya?” asked a tiny voice. “Here, let me help ya out!” chirped the voice again as a bright light shone inside the curtains of Bogo’s large bed.

Bogo’s face immediately scrunched up at the bright light burning through his eyelids. “Wha--?” he asked as he peeked open his squinting eyes to see what was the source of the bright light.

“There, that’s better,” said the light as it settled down on top of his bed. The tiny light dimmed and a shrew with an updo hairstyle, sporting a mistletoe crown and a white gown, came into view.

“Wha--” Bogo rubbed his eyes. Did his eyes deceive him? No, they didn’t. “Who...Who are you?” he asked the shrew.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past,” she answered with a chipper smile.

“Long past?” he asked, curiously.

“No, your past,” she answered.

“A-Are you the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t give him the answer he was expecting.

“Yeah! Hi!” she squeaked happily.

Bogo brought a stressed hoof to his forehead, “I was afraid you’d say that. So I would assume you’re not a figment of my imagination, but a real spirit?”

“That’s right, sweetie. I’m here to help you take a look at your past.”

“My past? How can you? You don’t know me. Besides, I can view my own past in my memories.” Bogo said as he laid back down and turned his back to her, “Good night.”

“Maybe I don't know you personally, but somethin’ tells me your memories don’t let you remember as much as you think you do,” replied the tiny shrew.

“Muh,” he grumbled, his back still to her.

The shrew scoffed angrily at his rude behavior. “Don’t be so rude. Now come on, we gotta get goin’” said the little shrew as she flew toward his window.

“So why don’t you leave?” Bogo said, not even bothering to turn over.

The shrew magically opened his window and wind and snow rushed in.

The buffalo sat up in shock, “What do you think you are doing?”

“I already told ya! We're goin’ to look at your past,” she said as she perched herself on the window sill.

Bogo approached her, wide eyed, “How-How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” she asked innocently.

“That! Th-The flying,” he stammered.

“Oh that's easy,” she replied as if it were a common practice among mortal mammals. “Here, you can too. Just take my paw,” she said, extending her tiny paw to him.

Bogo looked out the window, down to the streets below. It was quite a drop from his large three floor mansion. “Are you mad? I can't do that. I’ll fall.”

“No you won't. Just hold onto me, okay?” she said, still extending her paw. Bogo however, gripped her whole tiny body with both hooves instead. “Ooh!” she squeaked in surprise. “Not too tight there big fella,” she giggled with a pat to his hooves. The tiny Ghost of Christmas Past made them both into see through apparitions. “Here we go!” She leapt them both out the window and into the night sky.

Bogo gasped in horror and tucked his legs as he held on tightly to the shrew. The shrew giggled at how terrified he looked. “Don't worry, honey. I promise you, you won't fall.” The shrew descended down to the ground near a brightly lit business that read, 'Lionheart Tea Co.’

“We're here,” sang the shrew.

The moment Bogo looked up at the name on the building, his eyes widened with a twinkle of familiarity in them. “Wait a minute,” he breathed in shock, “I believe I know this place!” Bogo rushed to the window and peeked inside, “Yes! This is old Lionheart's!” he exclaimed excitedly.

The shrew stood beside the buffalo on the window sill. “I couldn't have worked for a kinder mammal,” he told her. His voice uncharacteristically tender as he viewed the Christmas party going on inside. It sparked a warmth in him that he hadn't felt in years.

He scanned around until his eyes landed on a middle aged lion, happily playing a lively tune on a violin. “Why I can't believe it! It's old Leodore Lionheart, alive again! And all my dearest friends!” he exclaimed excitedly when his gaze wandered to everyone else in the room. “But how is this possible?” he asked the shrew with a mixture of curiosity and excitement.

“I'm only showing you what’s already been,” she replied.

“But…” Bogo wished to pry further but then decided against it. He didn't care for a logical explanation right now. He just wanted to relish in the moment. He had never smiled wider in years!

After a moment of watching the festivities, he noticed a young, shy but familiar looking cape buffalo standing over by the corner. “That shy boy over there...is that--is that really me?” he asked the shrew.

“That's right, sweetie. That's you before you became a big money grubby meanie,” she replied.

Bogo scoffed at her words. “I don't see how caring about my business’ growth and profits makes me a greedy mammal.”

“You will,” she replied as a matter of factly, “Just look over there.”

Bogo gasped and his jaw dropped, “Is that...?”

Inside, the upbeat music was no longer playing as the band played a much more gentle tune -- it was the tune to 'Oh Holy Night’. Before the band stood a beautiful gazelle, appropriately named Gazelle. She was tall and had a tuft of curly blonde hair. She began to sing and everyone, including the young nineteen year old Bogo gathered to watch.

Oh holy night,

The stars are brightly shining

It is the night

Of our dear Savior's birth

Bogo pressed his hooves against the glass with a longing melancholy, “Gazelle…”

Long lay the world,

In sin and error pining

Inside, the young Bogo watched her with an equal amount of care and longing. He sniffed quietly, completely moved by her voice. And of course, by her beauty.

The gazelle noticed him in the crowd and he looked away nervously with an evident blush. She smiled, happy to have evoked such a reaction out of him.

Outside, the shrew noticed how moved the older Bogo was by her voice. “Aww, she sings as pretty as she looks, huh?” she asked him with a pat to his hoof.

“Yes, yes she does,” he replied without even looking at the shrew. His eyes still glued to the gazelle. After a moment, she reached the end of the song.

Ohhh night,

Oh night divine…..

Everyone around her clapped with joy, as did the young Bogo. An applauding Lionheart came back up with his violin in paw. “The lovely Gazelle everyone! Isn't she wonderful? Let's give her another round of applause!” Everyone did so. “Now, let's continue on with the festivities!”

The mammals in the room cheered in agreement and resumed their dancing. Gazelle meanwhile, eyed Bogo, who timidly looked down at his feet. She giggled at his bashful behavior and approached him, “Bogo?”

He turned his gaze up to hers, “Yes Gazelle?”

“I don't have a dance partner. Would you care to dance with me?”

“Me? Why-Why... I…I…” he stammered. Gazelle batted her eyes in response and Bogo swallowed hard, “Yes, of course.”

She lit up with joy and without a word, grabbed his arms and led him to the dance floor. They danced, Bogo slowly getting the hang of it. When the song came to an end, Gazelle surprised Bogo by puckering her lips. She wanted him to kiss her, but he was so shy, he looked away with a bashful smile. It was then that she took control once again and kissed him on the cheek. Bogo smiled wide! He then sighed with a goofy grin, while his heart beat happily.

Outside, Bogo sighed with a hoof over his heart at the fond memory, “Ah, I remember how much I was in love with her.”

“Yeah…” nodded the shrew.

Just then, a harsh wind suddenly blew, taking them to a new location.

“But in six years time,” continued the shrew, “You learned to love somethin’ else.”

Bogo opened his eyes and saw a very familiar place, “My counting house? What are we doing here?”

“Nine thousand nine hundred and three,” he heard his own voice say, as a young but now slightly older Bogo of twenty-five years of age, counted gold coins at his desk. “Nine thousand nine hundred and--”

“Bogey?” asked a meek feminine voice by the counting house’s entrance. It was Gazelle who had just come in. She still looked just as beautiful, but she no longer had the same joyful glow as before. She looked as tired and miserable as both the elder and youthful Bogo did. “Bogey?”

“Oh it’s just you Gazelle. What do you want? I’m quite busy.” He resumed his counting as Gazelle observed him stack coin after coin.

“I know you are. You’re always busy these days, Bogey,” she said sadly, huddled into herself.

“Time is money. You know that,” he replied, not bothering to look at her as he scribbled some numbers in a ledger.

“You’re beginning to sound more and more like Beau Bellwether and his daughter Dawn, each day you work here,” said Gazelle, worried for Bogo.

“I should hope so,” Bogo replied, not finding anything at all wrong with her statement. “Mr. Bellwether is a fine business mammal and he’s been teaching Dawn well for when she inherits his counting house. He even said that I might have a bright future in his business if I continue to work as hard as I do. Perhaps even become owner of this place one day.”

At those words Gazelle couldn’t help but scrunch her face with a heavy desire to cry, but she held it in. Giving it her all to remain composed, as she fiddled with an engagement ring on her finger. She sniffled quietly -- Bogo still completely ignorant to her emotional state. She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope with a broken seal, “Would...would what you’ve said have anything to do with this letter?”

Bogo finally looked up and paused, ceasing his writing when he saw the letter. There was an unpleasant silence between them. “Where did you get that?” he asked.

“I found it in your coat pocket this morning.”

Bogo sighed, setting the quill pen down. “Did-Did you read its contents?”

“I did,” there was another unpleasant pause of silence between them. “Bogey why didn’t you tell me?” she asked with a breaking voice and glassy eyes, “Why didn’t you tell me that Mr. Bellwether was offering you co-ownership of his counting house in exchange for marrying his daughter?”

Bogo said nothing for a moment, but then replied, “I thought it would be a good business opportunity for us.”

“Us?” asked Gazelle, incredulously.

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” He stood and paced around behind his desk. “But this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity for me,” he said in an attempt to defend himself. “We have always talked about a promising future together. A life where I would be able to give you everything you and our future children could have ever wanted.”

“But how can you ever give us that life, if you would be married to someone else?” Gazelle asked.

“I would only marry her temporarily, upon our divorce I would inherit co-ownership of this counting house and then you and I can carry on with our lives as planned.”

“Bogey, that’s immoral. And it says here that you must marry Dawn Bellwether for at least five years in order to inherit the counting house.”

Bogo nodded, lowering his gaze and refusing to meet hers. “I’m aware of the stipulation.”

Gazelle felt her heart deflate, “Do you love her?”

“No,” Bogo responded, lifting his gaze to hers.

His answer should have sparked joy in her, but it didn’t because she realized another truth that hurt just as much. “But you love her money and dowry.”

“I…” Bogo’s mouth gaped and he softly shook his head in an attempt to dispel that as truth. But the truth of the matter was that she wasn’t wrong.

Gazelle sniffed, her fingers fiddling with her engagement ring once more, “Can I ask you one more thing Bogey? If we had just met and you could choose now, would you still choose a poor girl like me to marry?”

Bogo grew silent in thought. “Well…” he replied, hesitance and uncertainty heavy in his voice.

A tear ran down Gazelle’s face, “Say no more…” She knew that his hesitance was all the confirmation she needed. Gazelle removed her engagement ring and placed it on the table. She left the letter from Beau Bellwether beside it and turned to leave without another word.

Bogo said nothing, he just stared at the ring until she reached for the door handle. “Gazelle! Wait.”

Gazelle turned.

“I…” Bogo began. A silence loomed between them for what seemed like an eternity. “I…” Bogo lowered his gaze back down to Gazelle's engagement ring and the envelope which contained Bellwether's offer. He thought back and forth between both items and sighed, “Don’t forget to return the gold earrings I gave you.”

Gazelle's jaw gaped, completely offended and in shock. How could he?!

Gazelle angrily slammed the door and left. Bogo flinched at the ferocity with which she slammed the door as his gold coins scattered all over the place.

The shrew and the elder Bogo watched her go from the window. The shrew sniffled and wiped at her eye with a handkerchief, “And I thought you two were so cute together.”

The young Bogo meanwhile sat back down with a sad frown as he took the ring in his hoof. He stared at it for a moment and then sighed sadly, placing it inside one of his desk drawers. He then took the envelope and silently gazed at it. His decision made clear.

“I still have that ring locked away in my desk drawer,” Bogo uttered with a sad remorse.

“But what good is the sentimental value if you lost her foreva?” Bogo lowered his head in shame. “Instead,” the shrew showed him other images of his past, floating around in little memory bubbles. “You chose to marry a girl you didn't love, only for her money.” One of the bubbles displayed an image of Bogo and Dawn’s loveless wedding. “And then five years later, you divorced her like you said and continued becoming more and more selfish, pushing away the rest of your friends.” The next few bubbles showed a miserable Bogo and Dawn signing divorce papers -- Bogo running gold coins through his greedy fingers -- and Bogo foreclosing the mortgages on some of his former friends’ homes (all of them from the party they had seen earlier). The bubbles circled around him and Bogo could no longer bear looking at them.

“No!” he shouted, covering his eyes, “Please spirit, no more! I can't bear to look at these images any longer!”

The shrew was no longer with him, but her voice echoed in the fading distance. “Remember honey, I’m only showing you what’s already happened. You made these memories yourself.”

Her voice echoed as a harsh gust of wind blew over Bogo again, transporting him back to his bedroom.

#zootopia #wildehopps #chief bogo #gazelle #a christmas carol #christmas 2019 #fanfic #crossover #the ghost of christmas past

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