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crispyjenkins · 4 years ago

Note

fic with ahsoka as Obi-Wans Padawan? Maybe some angsty jangobi? (Used to be together but broke up and now they pine from afar™️)

(i’m devastated that i don’t get to write ahsoka much, especially as obi’s padawan, so that an anon would come into my inbox.... and request jangobi on top of it..... seriously, though, thank you! can’t say i wasn’t inspired by @autumnchild22’s Kenobi Tano AU, but this doesn’t share almost anything with their take of events (ノ*´◡`) i’m flattered y’all thought i could do something of theirs justice lmao

i have written entirely too much backstory for this one, i think my brainstorming ended up longer than the actual fic so like. rip.

support artists and writers by reblogging, message me for more info if this confuses you!)

It surprises everyone except Obi-Wan that not only does Jango join the clones on the front lines, but he does so as the ARC troopers’ medic. That the son of the Mand’alor murdered by the Jedi would allow his kid to be apprenticed by a lifetime Council member is already hard enough for the galaxy at large to swallow; believing that the man who had at once been the most feared bounty hunter in the Outer Rim wouldn’t even ask for a command position? Impossible.

Obi-Wan knows better. Just as Obi-Wan had picked up Soresu because he could not protect his master on Naboo, Jango had learned to put people back together because he could not save his buir on Korda 6.

Besides, Obi-Wan thinks Mace is a wonderful match for little Boba, even though he’s joining the Jedi older than even Anakin had been. Knowing Mace was among the Jedi to liberate the spice freighter Jango had been sold to, and that he had continued to check in on Jango for years after he got his armor back, Obi-Wan actually finds it rather silly that others on the Council had thought Jango would trust Boba to anyone else.

Which does leave Obi-Wan in quite the predicament, when less than a year after Anakin's knighting, Mace sends him a new padawan in the middle of a campaign.

Ahsoka smiles with all canines, and calls Anakin Skyguy, and has to be tricked into wearing more armor because, according to Cody, she is "not to take the General's lack of self-preservation as the status quo, nor as the basis for field safety." Which, rude, Obi-Wan wears plenty of armor when the situation calls for it; he simply doesn't find many situations where plasteel has kept his men or the Jedi from dying horribly.

Letting Ahsoka gallivant around a battlefield in a tube-top without even a cloak, however, is out of the question, and Obi-Wan thinks Waxer does a brilliant job in sizing down the armor to fit their collective padawan over the next few months. Force, had Anakin really been younger than she when he first started taking him on missions?

"Master?"

Obi-Wan blinks, and smiles down at Ahsoka standing next to him, his apprentice looking quite dashing in the orange paint of the 212th. "Sorry, my dear, what were you saying?"

She shrugs, eyeing him suspiciously. "'Was just asking if we would be working with the ARC troopers on Kiros; Captain Fordo said he would show me how to use a blaster rifle next time they were on the Negotiator."

The Kaminoans intended for a few ARC troopers to be sent with each battalion, but it had quickly become clear that Jango had not trained them that way. Instead, he had raised and created a strike team so efficient, it would have been a waste to separate them; Obi-Wan knows Jango had hand-picked them from cadets, had searched for a spark in them that the Kaminoans hadn't already snuffed out completely. Jango had been like that once, too.

"I would be surprised if we didn't," Obi-Wan decides on, turning back to observe the 212th loading into the Negotiator, and he would be, because the ARCs are often deployed with Obi-Wan’s men, have been since the Battle of Kamino. "But I have not heard anything from Master Shaak Ti, nor Captain Fordo as of yet."

Ahsoka scrunches up her face into a pout, an amusing show of her age that she usually does not allow. "We'll probably get halfway through the mission and they'll just show up."

Obi-Wan chuckles. “Hm, yes, probably,” he agrees, starting to make his way down to the hangar to join his men with Ahsoka trotting along behind, ��but perhaps I can convince Captain Fordo not to surprise us too badly this time.”

When the ARC troopers finally storm the Kadavo Processing Facility with Anakin and the Jedi on their heels, the warden Agruss is already dead.

The sudden swell of Jedi presence is nearly blinding after a month of helplessness, but Obi-Wan can't tap out, not yet. Rex, satisfied and vindictive and relieved, sways dangerously and automatically reaches out to Obi-Wan to steady himself.

That Rex trusts him enough to not even think about rank before asking for help warms Obi-Wan in ways he doesn't yet have the words for — he wraps Rex's arm around his shoulders and takes half his weight happily.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan finds himself murmuring as he helps Rex towards the doors, and only smiles at the captain's bemused expression.

"Whatever for, General?" he asks, even as he looks back over their shoulders across the room, to Agruss impaled to his chair with the electrostaff still sparking. Then he returns Obi-Wan’s smile, shaking his head. "That's not very Jedi-like of you, sir."

"I'm afraid I haven't felt much a Jedi since Kiros, my dear." Which is perhaps too honest to allow himself before he's had a proper meal and a full night's rest, but if there is anyone who will understand, it is the man that lived it with him. "We could wait up here for Anakin to find us, but it will likely be a while before they can spare him to start looking; do you think you can keep your feet long enough for us to reach the ground floor?"

Rex snorts and gives a vague wave of his free hand towards the elevators. "Well, I'm certainly not going to wait up here like some damsel, sir, and General Skywalker would kill me if I let you wander around on your own."

"Well!" Obi-Wan laughs, for the first time in weeks, and hitches Rex up to get a better grip on his waist. "In that case, we really should not keep him waiting."

They somehow time it perfectly for what the 187th and the 501st to have just finished rounding up the slavers in the courtyard when he and Rex hobble out of a side door of the warden's tower. Lieutenant Law oversees the Togrutas' move to Mace’s flagship Solace, and Obi-Wan easily picks him and Boba out from the crowd, standing at the base of the loading ramp and speaking with the Kiros colony's governor. Anakin is nowhere to be seen, but Obi-Wan doesn't get the chance to keep looking before Kix spots them from his place by the medical frigate; a shout passes over the nearby clones like a wave, until Kix and an ARC trooper break away to (gently) manhandle both him and Rex to the frigate.

The 187th's medic, Oro, is already on board seeing to the Togrutas too injured to wait for triage on the Solace, snapping a distracted salute that Obi-Wan quickly waves off as he helps heft Rex onto a hoverbed. He fully intends to duck back out and check in with Mace, though things seem well in hand without him, but the ARC with Kix takes off his helmet and glares, until Obi-Wan meekly shuffles to the next hoverbed over.

He could never refuse Jango, after all.

"You repainted your armor," he says conversationally, as Jango pulls a scanner from the bandoleer around his chest and has Obi-Wan roll up his right sleeve.

"'Lost the last set to a sarlacc before our deployment to Kiros," Jango snorts, Concord Dawn accent stronger than any of his clones. "Though it looks like your mission had its fair share of excitement." Running the scanner over the electrical burns on Obi-Wan’s arm, Jango raises an eyebrow at the dried blood on the shoulder of his tunics; Obi-Wan honestly doesn't remember if it's his or not.

And he can only smile at Jango, because even with a decade and a war between them, the corner of Jango's mouth still twitches when he's stressed. "Well, it certainly wasn't boring, my dear," Obi-Wan says, opening the neck of his tunic enough for Jango to stick him with a hypospray that hopefully won't make him too high. "And I can't say I'm looking forward to what is surely going to be a long dip in the bacta tank."

He gets a laugh for that, and can't think of the last time they had done more than make eye contact from opposite sides of a ship. Perhaps it had been Kamino, when Taun We had first sent for the Jedi to meet the army created for them.

Obi-Wan had rather thought Jango dead until then, when he had disappeared from the galaxy abruptly as if he had never lived in it at all. For a time, Obi-Wan believed he had just gotten cold feet, that finally meeting Anakin made it all a little too personal too quickly, but then even Mace could not get a hold of him and no one had seen a Mandalorian bounty hunter in months.

Their... conversation, Jango's stilted explanations of his absence and of how little he actually knew about the purpose for the clones he helped create, left far too much unsaid, but then Obi-Wan had been sent to Geonosis and, well. It's been nearly two years now, and Obi-Wan isn't sure if he's even seen Jango without his helmet since then.

His eyes flick over Obi-Wan’s face, the left side of his lips twitching as if knowing exactly what Obi-Wan is thinking — and he might not put it past him.

"Where are Anakin and Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan hears himself ask, when the silence grows heavy with those unsaid words. And he really would like to check in with his padawan, he can't imagine her last month has been a picnic either.

Jango sticks him with another stim before answering, "Mace sent Skywalker to make sure no slave is missed, and no slaver isn't arrested. As for your new foundling..." That little smile comes back, as Jango nods out the back of the frigate to where someone is cutting a line through the clones guarding their new prisoners.

"Oh dear," Obi-Wan mumbles, barely having time to brace himself before Ahsoka is launching herself at him, and all he can think is how relieved he is to see her out of her slave disguise. Jango steps cleanly out of the way to let Ahsoka smother herself in Obi-Wan’s chest, though it doesn’t stop him from starting to prep bacta patches to tide him over until they can get to the Negotiator’s medbay.

“Hello, little one,” Obi-Wan murmurs, carefully loosening the tight net of his shields for the first time since Zygerria and letting Ahsoka’s presence flood his mind.

“It’s good to see you, Master ‘Nobi,” she says into his tunics, and her voice does not waver at all.

He manages a chuckle, though it does not hold nearly as well as Ahsoka’s, as he feels himself finally relax. Anakin, of course, senses the both of them immediately and prods at their minds, but neither Obi-Wan nor his padawan acknowledge him. “I take it the Queen is dead?”

Ahsoka sighs and pulls back enough to nod. “Count Dooku was there, Skyguy barely got us all out.”

“That was a week ago,” Jango adds, not looking up from the datapad he’s logging Obi-Wan’s injuries into. “Even with the Queen giving us the location of the Processing Facility, we had to wait for the 187th to catch up.”

Running his palm from the top of her head down her hind lek, Ahsoka melts back against him with a Togruta churr he rarely has the pleasure of hearing from her. “Hm, and I imagine Boba was thrilled to work with the ARC troopers.”

Jango snorts, because they both know Boba is thirteen and his rebellious stage where he wants nothing to do with his father for fear of losing his independence. “Originally, the 104th was the closest battalion, but were held up in their own campaign. ‘Honestly didn’t think we could keep Skywalker from rushing in anyways.”

And Obi-Wan has to wince at that, because no matter what he does, he can’t seem to find a way to teach Anakin about attachment in words he understands; truthfully, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have had him knighted until he had at least attempted to master that part of his mind, but, well, the War had different opinions.

“I’m actually just surprised he didn’t try to fight Dooku,” Ahsoka admits, finally releasing Obi-Wan only to hop up on the hoverbed next to him. Jango immediately pulls Obi-Wan’s bare arm back to himself to start slapping the bacta patches over the worst of his burns. “Master Windu had a talk with him, though, I think it was good for him.”

“I’d like to see that!” Jango barks, only half sarcastically: he knows better than most, the sorts of things Mace Windu can talk someone out of, and if it worked for one ex-slave, why shouldn’t it work on another?

Ah, perhaps that shared history should not have slipped Obi-Wan’s mind, not here with thousands of freed slaves needing aid for injuries Jango is intimately familiar with.

“And are you alright?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it, as Jango is cutting his sleeve further back. His brow ticks back up, clearly bewildered by what Obi-Wan could be referring to, but it’s Ahsoka that leans around Obi-Wan to sniff triumphantly up at Jango.

“I told you he still likes you,” she says, and Jango’s hand freezes on Obi-Wan’s wrist.

Obi-Wan sighs. “Ahsoka.”

But instead of denying that he might have actually had such a conversation with Obi-Wan’s padawan, Jango coughs on a laugh. “So you did, edee. To be fair, I did not think that was the issue.”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, leaning back into Obi-Wan’s side as he automatically raises his arm to accommodate her. “He thinks he lost his chance, Master ‘Nobi,” she tells him. “Even Cody thinks he’s full of banthashit.”

Where Obi-Wan feels a little shell-shocked by the turn in conversation, Jango simply keeps that tiny smile — even if it looks bittersweet and self-deprecating now. “Your foundling has spent the last week talking me in circles about this, I almost think she’s as stubborn as you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” Obi-Wan returns, sarcasm an automatic, subconscious response.

“I wouldn’t need to talk you in circles if you two just talked to each other.”

Shaking his head in bemusement, Obi-Wan gently fixes Ahsoka’s slika beads to lay properly around her montrals. “I’m afraid there’s quite a lot of history there, little one; most of which I’m sure Jango did not actually share with you.”

She wrinkles her nose. “No, he refuses to tell me anything except that you met on a mission. And that he saved your ass from Jabba the Hutt.”

Obi-Wan snaps his eyes to Jango, who looks absolutely anywhere but at him. “Is that how you remember it going, my dear?”

“Could we do this later?”

“Because if I recall correctly, and I do, this is not the first time you’ve lost your armor to a sarlacc.”

Jango looks to the ceiling for patience.

Mando'a: buir — “parent”, gender neutral Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. edee — “teeth”, “jaws”, used here as an affectionate name for Ahsoka. because she teeth.

#thinking about opening the ask box again but keeping anon off #i miss y’all ꒰๑·̥﹏·̥๑꒱#WHY DO I KEEP WRITING 3000 WORD PROMPT FILLS #well i mean it’s cause i don’t want it to seem slapdash or not thought out and i always have so much plot #but it’d still be nice to not put my chaptered fics on the backburner ‘cause i can’t multitask between them T0T #prompt fill #crispy writes #jangobi #jango fett #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #captain rex #prequel trilogy #au #force sensitive boba #alternate events at and post galidraan #medic jango #clone oc #oro is mine (ノ*´▽`)#real talk tho #i’m super fucked up about everything happening with achievement hunter right now #it’s been a rough couple of days #i hope you’re all safe and healthy and taking care of each other #believe victims not abusers #hashtag crispy stop tagging so much

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samwilsonshandsandass · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t decline too many times

Pairing: soft!dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: The local gang leader is always nice to you. But is there an ulterior motive behind it all for his niceness?

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (voluntarily), asks about pregnancy, abduction

Word count: about 3000

A/N: This is my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. A big congrats on your milestone and thank you for hosting this challenge, I enjoyed writing for it! I chose general prompt number 5 (“The leader of the local gang doesn’t like it when you tell them no.”) for this. The dividers are made by the awesome @firefly-graphics

You sat at the bar, a small bowl with olives and peanuts in front of you. You had asked for a caipirinha and shortly after if the bartender, a female redhead, could get you some snacks. She said she could, but she also cautiously probed if you were pregnant. No, you weren’t.

“Well then, I can offer you olives and peanuts.”

You nodded, and now the quite unusual combination of a fruity and sweet drink and olives and peanuts found a home in you. You had your elbows propped up on the bar, back straight and eyes on the bar top. The bowls with the snacks were gone quicker than the drink and the bartender kept both coming. Eating way quicker than drinking helped with that, apparently.

You didn’t know what number drink you were on when you were approached the first time that evening. Although night would be a better term.

“Miss? I- uh- I’d wanted to ask-“ The guy who now sat on the stool next to you stumbled over his words, but not because of alcohol in his system. He didn’t slur, he talked normally.

You saw a tattooed hand clasp the guys’ shoulder. “I don’t think you’re in the right place, buddy. Leave the lady alone.”

“Why would I-“ The guy turned to look at whoever had his hand on his shoulder. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr.-“

“Yeah, yeah, I imagine you are. But you’ll be even more sorry if you don’t move now” The other growled and the guy got up so quickly, he almost face planted away from the bar.

“Uhm, thank you? You know, you didn’t have to, he wasn’t bothering me. I could’ve dealt with him” You said to the brown-haired man.

“I know. But this isn’t what this is about.”

“Then what is ‘this’ about?” You were a little irritated.

“You’ll see. Enjoy your night, miss” He gave a small salute and went back into the crowd. You tried looking where he went but quickly lost him, although the bar wasn’t as packed as it could be.

Steve looked over the bar patrons from the mezzanine level of the bar, that housed his private booth that could be seen, and was supposed to be seen, from below but no one ever found the staircase until they were explicitly shown where it was.

His night was going nice, no big problems in the last days, the bar was filled and his new favorite person had just walked in. Alone. She made a beeline for the bar and after a short conversation, got what she wanted from Natasha. She didn’t move much throughout the night and he was happy to just watch her.

Steve sipped on his own drink. He wondered what she drank. He’d have to ask Natasha for that. He took another sip and swallowed harshly. Someone sat next to what would be his. Normally, he’d be lenient with that, especially if the bar was packed almost too full but for one thing, it wasn’t. Secondly, you didn’t seem to want any company tonight. Just to be left alone and drink.

“Buck?” Steve looked up.

“On it.”

A few days later, you were out grocery shopping after work. It had been a long day, full of demands you couldn’t meet or weren’t even supposed to fulfill because they didn’t fall into your department. And right as you could finally leave for the day, your boyfriend Chad had called to let you know he came home to an empty fridge and if you couldn’t pick up some fresh vegetables. But only from that one organic store. And only the freshest produce of the freshest.

How were you supposed to get literal farm-to-table produce when the delivery truck for that particular store only came twice a week and only ever in the morning? You asked and just got an exasperated sigh from Chad. So here you were, paying for the groceries and leaving the store.

You stepped out of the store and almost collided with someone. The person just kept on walking, apparently not even noticing how you wobbled and the bags in your hands almost slipped out of your grasp. Just as you thought everything would tumble and you’d have wasted that money, you felt hands on your elbows, steadying you.

“I got you, don’t worry.”

You didn’t recognize the voice. You turned around and did a double take. You looked up at Steve Rogers, the leader of the city’s gang, just known as “The Commando”.

“Th- thank you. It wouldn’t have been good if I had spilled all this.”

“What would you have spilled?”

“Fresh vegetables for tonight’s dinner.”

“All that just for you?” Steve seemed genuinely curious and confused.

“Oh no. For me and my boyfriend, Chad.”

Steve took the bags from your hands without asking. “Mind if I walk you home? It’s late and these bags look really heavy and that’s not even touching your normal bag.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not, I’m offering.”

“Thank you, but it’s not far, it really isn’t necessary” You declined.

“Alright, well have a nice evening, miss” Steve raised his fingertips to his non-existent hat.

“You too, thanks.”

Several weeks later, you laid on the couch with Chad with some mindless trash tv show playing in the background. He had his arm around you. You looked at him. He didn’t look back at you, but maybe he was just captivated by watching something that didn’t require much thinking after a long work day. Well, you wanted to do something that also didn’t require much thinking. You started kissing up and down his neck until he turned his head.

“What are you doing Y/N?”

“What does it look like?” You grinned.

“I’m too tired right now. Tomorrow?” Chad groaned.

You removed yourself from him and sat up again. “You’ve said that for weeks now! I also have needs and I don’t want to use my vibrator all the time. I want you.”

“Well, I can’t change how tired I am!” He raised his voice, despite or because of his tiredness, you didn’t know.

Shortly after, you went to bed. Unsatisfied and feeling like you had been shunned.

Just a few days later, you were frantically searching for a clean and decent shirt you could wear to work. You really couldn’t show up to work in a graphic tee shirt.

“Chad, where are my clean shirts?” You yelled through the appartement.

“In your wardrobe?! Like always?” He yelled back.

“No, they aren’t! Didn’t you do the laundry?”

“No, why would I?”

“Because it was your turn!”

“Well, I forgot. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, always sorry” You grumbled so he couldn’t hear and pulled a unicolor long sleeve shirt from the wardrobe. That would have to do.

It was a Saturday and you were in the mall, trying on clothes, maybe you’d buy some shoes. You wanted to treat yourself. Chad was gone for the weekend and you’d had a stressful week at work. You had found so many things you were packed with two or three bags in each hand plus your handbag over your shoulder. This had been an extensive haul and you couldn’t be more happy about your new treasures.

You carried several bags to the entrance to then get on home when you saw the revolving door wasn’t working. You groaned. Awesome. When you entered the mall, they had still worked and of course, today had to be the time you also bought something voluminous that you couldn’t just transfer from one hand to the other to open the door that was still working. While you thought about setting half the bags down and just walking twice or holding the door open with your foot, someone from behind you reached around you and opened it for you.

“Oh. Thank you!” You turned around and saw a familiar face. Steve Rogers.

“You’re welcome.”

He tipped his imaginary hat when you and all your bags were through the door. You turned and could see him still hold open the door with an older lady thanking the “Young man” and walking off.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” He offered.

“No, thanks I got it from here.”

Steve tipped his “hat” again and said his goodbye when you went in the direction of the parking lot.

You had reservations at a nice Mexican restaurant with Chad for this Friday evening. There was nothing to celebrate, you had just agreed to go out again, because you could. You were excited for it, an evening with good food, talking, no needing to take care of anything except getting home and a nice evening and then a lazy weekend until the work week started again. Now it was Thursday.

“Chad? Friday is still happening?” You sat at the breakfast table and Chad poured himself a coffee.

“Yeah. Work shouldn’t keep me longer than expected.”

“Alright, we’ll just meet at the restaurant, then.”

Friday came, work went down without any incident and you went straight to the restaurant. Granted, you were a little early, but you’d rather be early than late, which would have been the case if you had gone home beforehand.

“Excuse me? I have a reservation for Y/L/N, for two people. I know I’m a little early, but I thought maybe…” You trailed off.

“My colleague will show you to your table, you can already take a seat and wait for your company. I’ll send them over once they arrive” The receptionist said.

“Thank you” You smiled and followed her colleague.

At the table, you texted your boyfriend. Just a simple “I’m here a little early.” After the waiter brought a water, your phone still didn’t ping with a text. Twenty minutes later, you sent a second text. “Hey, you coming? Our reservation is for this time.” Now would’ve been the time your table was reserved for. No answer. 15 minutes and another text later, there still was no answer.

“Miss, do you want to order an appetizer or wait for your company?”

“I’ll wait for him, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course.”

Thirty minutes, another text and another visit from your waiter later, there still was no sign of Chad. Just as you felt tears of rage pricking your eyes, your waiter set a dish of panna cotta with fruits on the side in front of you.

“On the house.”

You smiled gratefully. At least panna cotta would soothe some of the rage you felt.

At home, there was no sign of Chad. You went to bed alone, feeling a storm of different emotions ranging from anger to sadness.

You woke to clanging in the hallway. It sounded like a person stumbling, trying to get back up and failing. That could only be Chad. Especially at this hour. You remembered once, pretty early on in your relationship how he had stumbled in just like this after a night out with his boys when you didn’t want to come with. You had helped him sober up and then you both had spent a nice day in with Chad nursing his hangover.

But this was different. This was your boyfriend, first blatantly ignoring or forgetting your date night (you didn’t know which would be worse), no matter if it went along with a special date or not, and now he didn’t even hide what he had been doing instead.

“Hey babe? Can you- can you help me?” He slurred.

And in that moment, you snapped. Still sitting in bed. You couldn’t do this anymore.

In the hallway, you saw Chad entangled in your and his winter coat. However he managed that.

“No. No, I will not do that” You crossed your arms and looked down at him. “I’m done. This is the last straw.”

“What happened babe?” The confusion was evident on Chad’s face but you couldn’t see if it was from the hangover or just general confusion. And either way, you didn’t care.

“Several things. Over quite some time. But this, this takes the cake. We had a date. We wanted to meet after work at this restaurant we’ve talked about. And you didn’t show up! You didn’t answer any of my texts! It got so bad, the staff there gave me a free dessert! It was humiliating! And don’t you dare tell me you lost your phone; you’re glued to it!” You shook from your anger.

“But you got free dessert!”

How could anyone miss the point so badly? You wondered.

“Go. Go and only come back to get your stuff. Otherwise, just leave me alone.”

You threw on clothes quickly, grabbed your keys, bag and purse and left. Down on the street, you just started to wander around aimlessly. You ducked into a bakery for a to-go breakfast and coffee, you went to the park, to a hole in the wall pizza joint for lunch, just meandering through the city.

Now it was evening. You looked up to actually see where you were and were surprised to see you had walked all the way from the park you had been in during the afternoon to the bar of the city’s main gang.

You remembered all kinds of rumors and stories about the gang, sometimes just about one or two members, even if the story didn’t tie directly in with the gang. But no matter the stories or rumors, they all boiled down to “They’re dangerous, stay away from them and their localities!”.

But the first time you had been in the bar, everything was nice, it had seemed cozy and like you were welcomed even if no one knew you. Hell, the bar lady had asked you if you were pregnant, like she wanted to protect you! And Steve, the actual leader of the gang, had been nothing but nice to you. Offering to help you and still not inserting himself forcefully into situations when you said no.

You entered and looked around. For a bar, it was pretty early and you only saw a few patrons. You went to take a seat at the bar again and greeted the red head with a smile. She smiled back and continued cleaning the glasses. A while later, she got to you.

“Caipirinha, olives and peanuts again? Still not pregnant?”

“Yes and no. And how do you remember what I ordered? That was weeks ago!”

“I’m a barkeeper. Simple as that” She smiled.

“Uh, could you keep them coming? At least for a while?”

“Something happened?”

“I broke up with my boyfriend today. Then wandered around and now I’m here” You shrugged.

“Alright. But I reserve the right to cut you off when I think you had enough.”

“Okay. But you won’t cut off the olives and peanuts?”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “Yes, I’ll keep giving you food.”

You smiled for the first time today. “Deal.”

The rest of the evening went by in a more or less haze of snacks, alcohol and the mix of hurt at your ended relationship but also the rage when you thought of what kind of behaviors of Chad made you end it all.

The barkeeper didn’t cut you off, which probably was related to you basically inhaling olives and peanuts. Hours later, you paid, slipped the redhead a big tip and a big smile and made to get home.

Almost right at the exit, you were stopped when you felt a hand on your elbow. You turned your head to tell whoever touched you off, but slight confusion furrowed your brows. Wasn’t that the guy from when you had been here weeks ago who kept that other guy from (probably) asking you out?

“Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, you can. Indirectly at least.”

“What?”

“I’m here to ask you if you’d like to come with me to up there” He nodded his head to the mezzanine level. “to meet someone.” He emphasized the ‘someone’ in a way that made it clear that ‘someone’ was special. In one way or another.

“Why would I?”

“To experience something, you wouldn’t otherwise.”

“No, thank you” You weren’t in the mood for something new. You wanted to mourn and rage at what you left behind and burrow yourself under blankets with pints of ice cream at home.

“Alright. Have a good evening, miss” He tipped his head and went off into the direction of, supposedly, the stairs to the mezzanine level.

You went home. You were surprised to see Chad had actually gotten his stuff out of your appartement. At least one pleasant thing had come out of the morning, in a twisted way. In the living room, you did exactly what you wanted to do. Eating all the ice cream you had in the freezer and basically becoming a blanket burrito.

When you woke, you felt blankets around you and a softly pulsing headache behind your forehead. You opened your eyes and blinked. And blinked. You turned your head. And blinked again. Slowly realization trickled in. Something wasn’t right. You weren’t where you were when you’d went to sleep.

Whatever you laid on was soft and big. You could turn your whole body and roll around. You could move and you could orientate yourself in your body. You looked down and saw you were still in the clothes you had worn to the bar. Right, you didn’t put on pajamas before going to sleep.

Just as you sat up on the bed, you heard a door open. You turned your head and couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Steve?!”

“Just the one.”

“Why?”

“I just want to take care of you. Is that so hard to understand?”

#my things #my writing #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers x reader insert #dark!steve rogers #dark!marvel fanfiction #fanfiction

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spinchip · 4 years ago

Note

writing prompt: zane not always being comf with repairs due to repeat trauma, and how the various ninja comfort him and help him thru it

This got out of hand, not exactrly what you asked for waughkjhm. 3000 words, post s12 ;; Mountainshipping/polyninja

Warning: Panic attacks, trauma, PTSD

In the Aftermath of Unagami, the city rejoices. People gather in the streets to reunite with those they lost, children and parents embrace, tears and laughter ring out across ninjago city like bells far into the night. Pixals own friends cheer and holler, the adrenaline riding high still, and Zane throws his arm around her shoulder and draws her close. She laughs, wrapping an arm around his back as Jay chatters on and on about what happened after the others were cubed, filling them in on every detail.

Halfway through the story she realizes Zane is much heavier than he was a moment before.

She stands a little straighter, hauling him into more of a standing position before turning to face him- worry freezes her joints. He’s not smiling like he was earlier, his face blank and vaguely confused, his eyes hazy and glazed as he slumps more and more, and now that she’s paying attention she can feel him trembling around her. Her mouth works but no sound comes out before she gets her feelings under control, reaching out to set a palm on his chest to steady him.

“Zane?” She asks quietly, paying no mind to how the conversation died at the fear in her tone.

He blinks sluggishly, turning towards her voice but his eyes are too distant to focus on her. He opens his mouth to say something, shaking his head as if he were trying to force himself to stay awake before his knees give out and he collapses, nearly taking her down with the sudden weight. She cries out his name in alarm and Wu jumps to take his other arm, lifting him up with Pixal. The others rush forward, hovering their hands uncertainly, worry sharp across their face.

Pixal pats his cheek a few times, “Zane? Can you hear me?” She can barely keep her voice level and she bites her lip when he doesn’t respond, his eyes closed and head lolling listlessly.

Jay leans down and presses the side of his face to Zanes chest, eyes searching empty air for a tense moment, “His mechanics are still running.” he confirms, hearing his internal parts working. He winces openly at a sound the others aren’t close enough to hear, “Something’s wrong. We need to get him back to the monastery.”

“What happened out here?” Cole asks, hands fluttering nervously at his side.

Pixal fills them in while they wait for the Bounty to make it to their location- Autopilot was a blessing. There’s no room for the Bounty to land in the crowded streets, so when it arrives Kai scrambles up the chain from the anchor and drops the gurney for them. In a scene almost too familiar to stomach Pixal helps Wu and Cole load Zanes unconscious form onto it, taking the same route Kai took to get on deck afterwards. Nya and Jay have already taken him into the back room and Pixal sheds her Samurai X armor without pause, sweeping her bangs off her forehead as she strides into the room.

They’ve already got his chest panel open, Nyas sleeves are rolled up to her elbows as she pushes aside wires and inspects the damage. Jay is running a diagnostic through their central computer, a thick cable plugged into Zanes head. Lloyd lingers at the door nervously, watching them work with worried eyes.

“What’s the problem?” Pixal asks, resting her hands along the bed and peering down at his chest.

Nya face looks grim, “His core’s been overloaded, it’s fried a majority of his main power lines to near ruin- but even with something like this, they should have been able to work. The Mechanics adapter shouldn’t have caused this much damage.”

“What do you mean?” Pixal finds her mouth is running dry, looking down at the scorch marks across his arms where the violent electricity had burned lines across his metal.

Jay leans over, pointing out several twisted wires, torn and broken and out of place, “His wires were already messed up.” his voice is grave, “The effect of the Mechanics portal combined with these damages? It made everything so much worse.”

“Already…?” She shakes her head, “The Never Realm.”

“We think so too. Something must have happened that he didn’t tell us about.” Nya pulls back and glances at the monitor, “He’s stable for now, his body forced him into low power mode to stop the spread of the damage. We have a lot of work to do when we get to the lab.”

She nods, turning to look at him. His face is slack in sleep, his lips slightly parted, and she realizes with a jolt this is the first time she’s actually seen him rest since he came back. He wont talk about it, about any of it, she didn’t realize he was hiding something so serious.

Jay sighs deeply, leaning onto the table with an exhausted slump to his shoulders, the excitement catching up to him all at once. Nya leans her back against the table and runs her hand over his shoulders soothingly, “Why don’t you go rest? Pixal and I can handle this.”

He nods his head slowly like he’s considering it but Pixal watched him still suddenly, his eyes narrowing. He sits up and leans over Zane’s chest, searching his wiring with increasing fervor, “We need Kai.” He says, looking up at Nya with wide eyes, “He’s- He’s freezing over.”

Pixal lunges forward, nearly knocking into Jay headfirst to look, and sure enough ice is crawling across Zanes' parts slowly, encasing each of his damaged wires in a protective layer of frozen water. If she had blood, it would have drained from her face. Nya practically jumps the table, calling her brother's name and Lloyd scrambles out of her way, each of them splitting up to pin down the fire user.

Frost spreads from his fingers where they are resting against the table, his lips are turning blue with ice, Pixal doesn’t know what to do.

“What is this?” Jay asks breathlessly, “It’s… conducting.”

She can see visible arcs of electricity flickering through the ice as it grows stronger, each chunk connecting broken wires and damaged pieces to make him whole. Their elements never responded like this, not normally, but something happened in the Never Realm and this- it must be second nature to him, to protect himself, to keep himself going.

Kai appears in the doorway half a second before Zane snaps awake.

He comes back in a blind panic, twisting on the cot and hyperventilating, crashing to the floor in his chaotic thrashing. Pixal jumps back to avoid him bowling her over, stumbling in shock. He digs blunted fingernails into his head, scratching and clawing desperately at the cable above the back of his neck until he rips it out, scrabbling against his own skin for a few hysterical seconds before he realizes that the cable is gone.

He scrambles to his hands and knees, shoving himself back until he’s squished into a corner, “Where am i? Where am i? Where am I?” He repeats in a hysterical mantra, chest heaving, his eyes wide and unseeing. Broken ice litters the ground in little chunks, handprints from where he’d crawled away turning to slick ice across the floor, frost crawling out from where he’s huddled against the wall. He clasps his hands over his head in distress, pulling at his ears and squeezing his eyes shut tightly as if willing them to work again, whining in fear.

“Zane!” Pixal cries, hovering and unsure, “Zane, please- can you hear me?”

Jay is by her side in an instant and he puts a reassuring hand on her arm, guiding her to crouch down on his level. He turns around and waves the others off so Zane won’t be so overwhelmed, Nya herding them back, “Zane, hey, it’s Jay.” He says soothingly, “You’re in the Destiny's bounty.” He repeats this a few more times and on one of the repetitions, Zane’s eyes slowly bleed into focus.

“See? Pixal is here, you’re safe.” He tells him gently, making sure not to touch him unless Zane asks.

Zane gasps loosely, a shuddering intake of air, “What did I do?” his eyes fill with tears as he looks at Jay miserably, “What did I do?” he asks desperately, moving both hands to grasp at the cable port in his head, tugging at it hard.

Pixal connects the dots, she knew enough about the violence in the Never realm to put his fears to rest, “Nothing, Zane. You haven’t hurt anyone.” She reassured him firmly, “You were hurt, we were running a diagnostic. You’re okay.” She sneaks a glance at Jay who nods at her minutely.

“Is this the first time this has happened?” Jay prods as respectfully as he can.

Zane shakes his head, “a couple of times.” He rasps, struggling to keep his voice even, trembling all over.

“What do you need?”

It goes on like this for almost twenty minutes with Jay and Pixal talking soothingly with him, at this point the Bounty has docked at the Monastery but Zane isn’t stable enough to move without panicking. Slowly, he calms down, until he’s sitting slumped and exhausted on the infirmary floor, uncurling himself from the clenched ball he’d forced himself into. Ice still insists on clinging to his skin and crawling around the floor without his permission, but he’s not in a blind panic anymore.

The tension in Jay's shoulders has begun to relax, “Hey, you back with us?” he asks gently.

Zane looks at him through bleary, but focused, eyes, “Yes.” He says quietly, “Thank you.”

Pixal chooses to avoid the elephant in the room, glancing at Jay with an appraising eye, “You handled that well.”

He shrugs, “I get them too, Panic attacks. After Nad- after everything. Nya does the same thing for me.”

“Do you think you can get inside?” Pixal turns back to Zane.

He takes a moment to think before he nods slowly, “I-” His face pinches and he swallows roughly, “I will need help.”

He holds his hands out and she takes them, pulling him slowly to his feet. He stumbles and she finds herself catching him for the second time that day, taking his full weight as his legs refuse to hold, until he can get his feet under him again. He whines, low and almost too quiet to hear, pressing his palm against his chest and squeezing his eyes shut.

Jay takes his other arm and wraps it over his shoulder, “We just have to make it inside and you can rest again, okay?”

“Keep talking.” Zane says, opening his eyes just barely enough to see where they’re going, and Jay obliges. He runs his mouth nearly non stop as they help him get to the repair center of the garage, and with each word Zane seems to be edging back from another panic attack. He talks about nothing, but Zane nods along like he’s explaining the meaning of life.

Nya is there already, replacement wiring, tools, everything laid out in preparation for Zanes injuries. She’s got her hair pulled into a tight bun, a headband she only breaks out in emergency repairs keeping her bangs out of her face, the soldering iron warming up on the table. Jay and Pixal help Zane collapse onto the bed they have there, and Pixal helps adjust it so he’s sitting upright.

Kai appears at his side and hoists himself up to sit at his waist, the bed dipping at his presence, “Hey,” He says gently as the air is flooded with warmth, reaching over to cup Zanes cheek. He runs his thumb over Zanes cheek, ice flaking off at his gentle touch.

Zane tries to smile reassuringly, but it comes out thin and reedy, “Hello, Kai.” he leans into his boyfriend's touch, exhausted.

Jay goes to help Nya but she stops him, cupping his shaking hands, “You’ve done great, but you need to rest.” She squeezes his trembling fingers to prove her point. He wouldn’t be able to be steady.

He hesitates, but concedes her point, stepping back but hesitant to leave. Cole and Lloyd linger in the doorway before Cole nods to himself and quietly slips inside, speaking softly to Jay until the smaller man concedes and herds Lloyd out of the garage, both of them disappearing inside.

Nya motions to Pixal and the nindroid jumps into action, rounding to the other side of the bed to give Nya a hand.

“Hand me that?” She asks, motioning to a bucket in the back corner of their work station. Pixal holds it out as Nya turns to Zane, “I’m going to open up your chest panel, is that alright?”

Zane squeezes his eyes shut and Kai takes his hand reassuringly as he summons the bravery, “Do it.” He nods, and Nya unlatches it quickly.

Kai grimaces, looking at the frozen over electronics. Pixal can’t look away. It’s smart, in a pinch- it kept him running, it kept him awake and aware and alive. It does not look like a kind way to live.

Nya’s expression matches her brothers, “In order to do the repairs, I'll need to clear out the ice, Zane. I can turn you off-”

His whole body tenses, his breathing coming fast, and she acknowledges the reaction silently, “-Or I can do my best to do it while you’re awake. can you pull your powers back?”

“I don’t know.” Zane’s hands shake, his hard-won composure cracking, “I’ve been doing it for so long.”

“It’s okay, I can help.” Kai reassures him, stroking his hand soothingly, “I’m going to melt the ice now, and Nya is going to pull out the water before anything is damaged.”

“Alright.” Zane says, bracing himself.

Kai keeps one hand intertwined with Zanes and the other he holds out over his chest, pushing heat and warmth. Pixal ends up holding the bucket as Nya carefully and delicately draws the melted dropplest from his chest. Exposed wires spark and Zane jerks, his fingers digging into the sheet over the bed, gritting his teeth loud enough for pixal to hear.

He whines and Nya glances at his face with a wince, “You’re doing really well. You’re doing great, Zane.”

Cole approaches from where he’d been trying to stay out of the way, leaning over the bed and looking down at zane, “Hey, hey,” He coaxes Zane to open his eyes, blue laser-focused on Cole's face, “You’re alright, I’m right here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” he promises, and Zane lets out a shaky breath, blinking away tears.

“Sorry.” Zane pushes out past his teeth, “I am stronger than this.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Cole tries to hide the heartbreak on his face, “You’ve been through a lot. You’re tired, you’re in pain, it’s okay if you take off your mask. We’ll be here to help you.”

Reaching out to cup his cheek and strategically angle him away from the others ministrations, Cole keeps his boyfriend's eyes on him, “I will keep you safe.” With each reassurance, Zane seems to relax more. He knows that the others wont hurt him, but the fear response is so engrained he can’t calm down. The words help.

Raw wiring greets Pixal when Nya finally sits back, the bucket sloshing and full, and Kai has to blink away tears at the usually neat mechanics looking so mangled.

Nya takes a fortifying breath and picks up the soldering iron and starts in on the thick of it. She explains each of her actions to Zane in perfect detail before she does them, each time she has to touch him she announces it, each time she has to unplug a ruined wire she warns him. He braces and flinches and whines each time, and there’s several moments Nya has to turn away to try and compose herself.

Hours of grueling work pass before Pixal realizes they’ve run out of repairs to make.

Nya leans back, and swallows deeply, rubbing at her tired eyes. She takes another moment to double check her work before she carefully closes Zanes chest panel. There’s a little cosmetic damage from the mechanics chains across his skin, but that can wait until another day, “Okay. I- I think we’re done.”

Zane exhales as if he’s been holding his breath the whole time, closing his eyes and sitting up fully, his shoulder slumped. Kai and Cole move back to give him space as he runs his hands over his face, exhausted, “Thank you.” His voice wavers. He swings his legs over the side and allows Cole to take his hand. His feet are firm when he stands on them, and he raises a hand to his chest automatically, his shoulders relaxing when there’s no aching pain.

“Zane?” Pixal says, and he turns to face her, “Why didn’t you tell us?” she prods gently, and Zanes face tightens.

“I…” he shakes his head, “I don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to pretend none of it ever happened.” he gathers his courage, “When I was sent to the Never Realm, it hurt. I’ve been protecting myself ever since.”

His eyes skate over the mess of broken wires and miscellaneous gear from the repair session, “I didn't realize it was so bad.”

She thinks maybe he’s talking about more than just the physical aspect, his panic attack still at the forefront of her mind. She takes a step forward, the bed a frustrating obstacle between them, “We love you, Zane. we don’t want to see you hurt. If you ever need to talk to someone, i’m always here- or we can help you find someone else together.”

He blinks hard, staring at the floor. Kai moves closer and cups his cheek, murmuring soft words. Zane nods, “Thank you.” He says to Pixal, “I will think about it.” It’s the most promising thing they’ve gotten out of him yet. Baby steps.

The door opens, and Lloyd pops his head in cautiously. He brightens at the sight of Zane up and about, “Um,” He says, smiling, “If you guys are finished, Jay and I made dinner.”

“You did?” Zane blinks, clutching Cole's hand as they begin the trek over to the door, “I’m impressed.”

“It’s nothing fancy.” Lloyd ducks his head, and Zane assures him anything they made will be just perfect.

Pixal watches him leave and dares to hope that things will get better.

#zane julien #ninjago #pixal borg #nya ninjago #jay walker #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #ns11 #ns11 consequences #ns12 #spinchip fic #panic attack #ptsd #trauma #calypsolemon #mountainshipping #polyninja

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tomthesoftie · 4 years ago

Note

Oh ok yeah thanks #57

taken for granted

a/n: this came out longer than expected, it’s almost 3000 words... this is probably super angsty, maybe... also, i’m going to work on ‘nothing can go wrong’ soon but i have to write two essays for school so i’m sorry if there is a delay... enjoy xx

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: swearing, angsty shit, fluff at the end, mob!tom is a dick

masterlist prompt list

57. “Stop pretending you’re okay ‘cause I know you’re not.”

Tom rarely spent any of his time with you now. He was always too preoccupied with his mobster duties. On rare occasions, he would join you in your shared bed, but by the time he arrived, you were already fast asleep. You always tried to fit with his schedule to at least say goodnight to him or wake up to see him by your side, but all your attempts failed. So when Tom said he had a free day, which he could have whenever he wanted seeing he was his own boss, you jumped at the opportunity.

You woke, bundled in the white sheets, yawning and stretching before looking to the usually empty space beside you. Tom laid there, curls tousled and chest heaving peacefully. You felt a warmth in your core, and you smiled.

You decided to get ready for your day with your boyfriend, preparing brunch and a list of things you could do together in your single day together.

things to do:

1. eat brunch together

2. go out on a romantic walk

3. have afternoon tea

4. come back home and make cookies together

5. watch a movie

6. make a surprise dinner for tom

7. snuggle and let the rest of the night flow as it goes

Tom sat up on the bed, stretching his arms while letting out a loud yawn. He hadn’t slept this well in a while.

A delectable aroma blew into the room, tickling his nose. He breathed in the scent, following it to its source. He stared at the table of his favorite foods displayed in front of him.

You entered the dining room holding another plate of food. You placed the platter neatly between two other plates, finishing off your first surprise for Tom.

“Christ, darling, what’s all this for?” Tom spoke.

You jumped, not realizing he had been standing there, “Oh my goodness, Thomas, you scared me,” you looked at the food, “It’s all for you. I wanted to make your day off enjoyable. Besides, we haven’t spent much time together in a while.”

He smiled, “I love you so much.”

Blushing, you replied, “I love you, too. Now let’s eat.”

Brunch was pleasant but awkward. You didn’t know what to talk about with him, so you resorted to staring at him while he ranted about problems. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for his problems, but you wanted this day to be about the both of you. You plastered a genuine smile on your face, though it began to falter.

“I was thinking that we could go out to town and just walk around, that is if you want,” you suggested when the two of you finished your meal.

“O-Oh, um, sure. Let me go get ready, love,” he walked over to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before quietly thanking you.

His small signs of affection were enough to erase your worries. You told yourself you overreacted about him talking about himself at breakfast. He did care.

Hand in hand, you and Tom strolled through the crowded streets of Kingston upon Thames. You admired the beautiful city, feeling lucky to be able to live there.

More than you wanted, Tom’s attention went to his phone. He laughed and smiled at whatever was on his phone. He typed away, glowing with happiness.

You felt a pang of jealousy.

Who could be making Tom feel like this? He seems to be enjoying his day more with the person throw his screen than the one right beside him. You thought to yourself, grip loosening on his hand.

He didn’t notice the change, and you frowned. Your boyfriend was glowing with happiness, and you would be a bad girlfriend if you ruined it. You put on a fake smile, hoping it would convince him even though he hadn’t looked at you at all since brunch.

He cares, you convinced yourself.

“Um, Tom?” You asked, seeing the tea house you were planning to get afternoon tea at.

“Mhm?” His eyes were locked on his phone.

“I was thinking that we could get some afternoon tea. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you tried to look him in the eyes, only to fail miserably.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you want,” he mumbled.

Still holding his hand, you pulled him to the building. The receptionist looked at Tom then to you, noticing the lack of attention he was giving you. You tried to smile it off, but she gave you a look of sympathy before bringing you to your table.

It was a shame Tom’s eyes were glued to the screen of his phone. The table you’d gotten had a perfect view of River Thames.

“Tom,” you squeaked.

He didn’t respond.

“Tom,” you said louder.

Still no answer.

“Tom,” you said in a demanding voice.

His head snapped up, “What?”

You sighed. This day was definitely going unexpectedly. The worse part about it all was that you wanted the day to be over. You were mad at yourself for that. He cares about you, so why couldn’t you care about him?

“D’you like how the day’s going?” You asked in a softer tone.

“Mhm, great,” he said flatly.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you let him go back to ogling his phone. You wanted to cry. The only day you had with him, wasted.

Tears filled your eyes, feeling ignored by Tom. To avoid tears from rolling down your cheeks and exposing your true feelings about how the day was going, you dismissed yourself to the ladies room.

Tom heard the rawness in your voice and looked up. Your head was down as you excused yourself. He carefully watched you as you quickly scattered away. He heard a sniffle but doubted that it came from you. You were the one who dragged him along, anyways.

You were thankful to be back home. You didn’t feel like preparing a grand dinner anymore. You felt like going to sleep and end the day.

Goddamnit, Y/N! Pull yourself together. He’s always putting you on top. You need to put him on top now, you scolded yourself.

Trying to muster up all the remaining sanity in you, you headed to the kitchen and worked away.

Hours passed as you prepared the meal. You made sure nothing went wrong, working slowly. With precision, you plated each meal. Your hands shook, and you droplets of sweat rolled down your forehead.

“Done,” you murmured to yourself, smiling.

Everything looked beautifully put together, as you were an amateur. You gave yourself a small pat on the back. Then it struck you. You missed some things on your list.

4. come back home and make cookies together

5. watch a movie

You slapped your forehead. Where had the time gone? You felt terrible. You missed a couple hours of spending time with your boyfriend. Hopefully the dinner would make up for it.

Unsurprisingly, dinner wasn’t much different from the rest of the day. You were thrown to the side while he enjoyed himself.

No, he hasn’t had the time to relax and enjoy himself in a while. I can’t blame him for that, you sighed, I just wish he would enjoy and relax with me.

“Thanks for the dinner, darling. It was... delicious,” he hesitated.

Your attention moved to him. You gave him a small smile, feeling slightly offended by his hesitation.

He left the room, moving to the living room. You were left to do all the dishes and work by yourself.

Great.

You stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off. You slipped on Tom’s oversized shirt, wearing a matching set of lingerie underneath. You hoped it was enough to grab his attention.

You heard murmuring downstairs. You walked down the stairs, seeing Tom on the couch with Tuwaine, Harrison, and Harry.

“H-Hello, boys,” you said, catching their attention. “Sorry about my - um - improper outfit. I didn’t know you’d be coming over.”

“S’alright, love. Mind getting us some wine, though?” Harrison asked, smirking.

“But-- I-- Sure,” you said pathetically.

You brought them four glasses and an expensive bottle of wine, opened of course.

You settled beside Tom, who inched away from you. It struck your heart.

“Don’t you think you should at least go get properly dressed before joining us?” He glared at you.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you whispered, feeling a tug at your heart. “I think I’ll be heading to bed now. Goodnight,” you announced, walking away in a rush.

You rushed up the stairs only to hear Tom complain, “She gets so clingy and annoying.”

Tears poured down your cheeks. A silent sob ripped from your lips. You ran to the room, tripping over yourself several times.

He didn’t care at all. He cares about himself. Only him, you realized.

“Mate, she’s your girlfriend. She cares about you. You shouldn’t say that shit about her,” Tuwaine said, feeling sympathy for the girl.

“It’s true, she’s been clinging to my ass all day,” Tom groaned.

“Have you gone out with her recently? Talked to her, at least?” Harrison asked.

Tom didn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the bottles of wine ahead of him. That answered enough.

“Tom, did you think that she just missed you?” Harry interrupted the silence.

“Just drop it, guys,” Tom snapped, starting to feel slightly guilty.

You laid in your shared bed, holding yourself in your arms. The blanket wrapped around your body as a shield.

Quiet sobs escaped your mouth, tears rolling onto your pillow. You were offended Tom would call you ‘clingy’ and ‘annoying.’ You tried so hard to make this day good for him, and he thinks you’re clingy.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, happy that Tom didn’t come to bed before you fell asleep for once.

Tuwaine, Harry, and Haz left after a couple wines. They tried to convince him to treat you better but only received the response, “Let’s talk about something else.”

Tom had seen his own faults after a long, irritating talk with the boys. He was being an ass to you for no reason.

He hurried up the stairs after putting all the dishes into the sink, hoping to catch you awake. To his dismay, you were already out. Tear streaks decorated your puffy face while some new tears slowly moved down your face.

He placed a pained kiss to your forehead. You stirred, moving into his familiar touch. A small smile danced on your lips. His hand moved to caress your cheek, admiring your beauty even when you were in pain.

Without waking you, he slid into the space beside you in bed. He held your waist, nuzzling his face in your neck. You pressed against him, attracted to the heat. He smiled and leaned to kiss your head again.

“Goodnight, darling,” he whispered before drifting to sleep.

You woke up with a pounding headache. You tried to sit up but something, or someone, held you down. You looked at the warm figure holding you and saw Tom with his arms wrapped around you. You felt a sting in your chest and tried to pull away.

You were able to maneuver out of his arms without waking him.

Dizzily, you made your way to the kitchen. You got yourself a cup of water and took some pain relievers. You plopped onto the couch lying on your side. Your legs tucked, and you curled your body into a ball. Without knowing, you fell asleep not too long after.

Tom noticed you were out of bed when he woke.

“Darling?” He mumbled, looking around.

With no response, he assumed you had gone to the kitchen for breakfast.

He dragged himself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Surprisingly, you weren’t there. He saw a cup and pain relievers lying on the counter.

“Princess?” He looked around, still no sight of you.

He walked over to the dining room then to the living room. He saw your limp body on the couch, letting out soft sighs. You were cuddled into a tight ball, shivering from the cold. Picking up a blanket from the room, he draped it over your shaking body. He sat on the couch with you, rubbing your body warm over the blankets.

You felt a weighted cloth enrapture you, giving you warmth. Instinctively, you snuggled into it. A pressure rubbed up and down your arm, further warming you.

You opened your eyes to see Tom hovering over you. You looked closely at him, believing this to be your imagination. Under the sheets, you pinched yourself and felt sharp pains on your arms.

“Ow,” you mumbled.

“Are you alright, love?” Tom asked, worry flooding his features.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sat up and began to put some distance between the two of you.

“Where are you going?” He scooted closer to you until you had no where else to go.

“I gotta get ready. You should, too, ‘cause, y’know, work,” you fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist as you began to walk away, “I don’t have to do anything today. I can stay with you.”

“No, it’s alright. Besides, there must be someone to interrogate today,” you snapped, pulling your wrist from his grip.

He didn’t know why your mood had changed. Just yesterday, you were so loving and warm to him.

Did you overhear him last night? He worried.

“Love,” he knocked on the door, “can I come in?”

He heard a couple of sniffles behind the closed door and frowned to himself.

“Just a sec,” you called out with a pained voice.

Tom could hear your tears in you voice and concerningly asked, “Are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, just fine,” you squeaked, slowly feeling your composure falter.

“Darling, open the door,” he demanded.

“Wait a moment, please,” you said too weakly.

“Open the do-”

“I will,” you snapped, “I’m trying to get ready, s’all,” you replied with a calmer tone.

You heard no response from him and expected that he left, so you jumped when the door was thrown open. The brunette stood in the doorway, staring at your red rimmed eyes.

“Tom, I’m fine,” you wiped away a stray tear, smiling, “See? Perfectly fine.”

“No, you’re not! Stop pretending you’re okay ‘cause I know you’re not,” he growled.

“It’s not much of your problem, is it?” You glared at him, beginning to lose your patience.

“Not much of my problem? How is my girlfriend not my problem? It’s my duty to protect and care for you. Why are you-” He was infuriated.

“Well I wouldn’t want to come off as too clingy! Maybe I don’t want to annoy you!” You shouted.

So you did hear him, Tom sighed.

Seeing the evident guilt and shock in his face, you continued, “That’s right, I heard it. You couldn’t’ve even waited for me to get back to the room! Some boyfriend you are,” you mumbled the end, pushing past him.

“Wait,” he called after you, “I didn’t mean what I said. It was just in the heat of the moment. I was just stressed with everything going with the mob.”

“Right,” you nodded unbelievably.

“Haz and them helped me see that I was the one in the wrong. I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry, love, truly, very sorry,” he pouted at you.

“You really hurt me, Tom. I planned a whole day out for us yesterday. You ignored me for practically the entire day,” you hiccuped, a rush of disappointment filled you.

“I know. I’m so sorry, love. I was such an asshole. You deserve to be treated better. I’ll fix that, I swear. I’ll spend more time with you. We could go on dates again. I’ll even make sure that I’ll go to bed with you,” he carefully walked over to you as if you would run if he got too close.

“But how would I know if you were talking shit about me to your mob cronies?” You asked, doubtful to trust him.

“I’ll personally have Haz, Tuwaine, or Harry slap me if I do, but no need to worry, love, I won’t take you for granted anymore,” he placed a gentle kiss to your head, “Now, would you like to join me for a day of just us?”

You giggled, “No, I wouldn’t,” hurt filled Tom’s features, “I would love to.”

“You’re such a tease,” he chuckled, “but I love you for it.”

You smiled up at him, “I missed having you around, Tommy. I spent so many nights yearning for you.”

“No more nights like that, alright? I’m here til the end of the line,” he answered softly.

And so, Tom kept his word. Everything has changed. He became the same Tom that you had met at the coffee shop. You obviously still disagreed with him running the mob, but he would always reassure you, telling you that he wouldn’t leave you.

He didn’t did care after all. He cares about himself the both of us. Only him us, you realized.

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bold-writing · 4 years ago

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The One With Whiskey Eyes || 2 || Black Words and Silver Scars

Summary: Soulmate AU Split 2016. Not everyone had a soulmate, there were many in the world who were unmarked. Iris Mayfair, however, has been forced to hide her skin for nearly thirty years. She doesn't have just one or two soulmates-even three would make people sneer and judge; no, she has twenty-three legible marks on her skin; with a blurry, unfinished twenty-fourth blooming across her flesh.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, descriptions of abuse, swearing.

Words: 3000

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~2~

Opening her apartment door only enough to slip through, Iris immediately locked the deadbolts behind her as a long sigh blew passed her lips. “Why did I think that was a good idea?” she muttered to herself as her head fell back against the door with a barely audible thud. “I’m insane.” Pushing off the door and stepping into the tiny space of her apartment, barely enough to be called that since it was one large room with a tiny washroom behind a door in the corner, Iris carefully unbuttoned her coat and moved to the closet to hang it up.

Even the closet was just an open alcove with a bar that she’d hung—nearly taking her finger off because she was not a handy person.

Ducking into the kitchen portion of the apartment to make herself a tea, Iris hoped it would be enough to calm her frayed nerves before she had to go to work that evening. When speaking with Dr. Fletcher on the phone, she’d decided that it was best to meet with the woman before she had to go to work instead of taking up her next day off. Of course, now she wished that she had not gone to the building at all but if she had she really should have done so on her day off.

Her hands trembled when she filled her kettle with water and placed it on the stovetop, causing some of it to splash out onto her hand. Immediately shaking the water off of her mark, Iris flinched like she’d been burned. The thinness of her hand meant that when she spread her fingers out to look more closely at the mark, her tendons lifted beneath her skin and rippled the words.

Even after everything that she had been through when she was younger, up until she had finally had enough and ran away from home, Iris did not hate her marks. Many times she had sought comfort from them, and even strength. They had withstood so much from her parents; she figured that she could as well. If they were strong enough, deep enough, that her parents couldn’t ruin them or destroy them then she could survive it as well.

Tracing over the neat writing, with the ring finger of her other hand, Iris smiled faintly.

The smile didn’t last, however, as the reality of what had happened returned to the forefront of her mind. She had met her soulmate today—or one of them, at least—and she had been absolutely horrible to him. Not only were her first words to the poor man those of rejection, but she had run away from him as well. None of her marks were rude or aggressive, so she could only imagine what he must have felt by her reaction to hearing what he said.

That was not how she expected meeting her soulmate to go.

Whatever had made her say those words only caused regret and despair to claw at her insides now, wishing for nothing more than the chance to take those words back.

A few people she had met over the years had told her stories of their marks, some of which were a statement of rejection. That rejection wasn’t always sorted out and they were left disconnected from a soulmate that didn’t want them. A friend she had in her early high-school years, prior to running away, had the mark that said ‘come on, of all people it had to be you?’ on her leg. Iris couldn’t remember ever seeing her friend in shorts, keeping her mark covered just like Iris’s.

“I’m a horrible person,” she whispered to the mark on her hand, clenching it into a fist.

Abruptly stepping back from the counter, Iris pulled off the sweater she had thrown on before she’d left earlier, followed by the long-sleeved undershirt, and soon stood in her bra as she looked down at the scratchy writing on her bicep. Stroking her fingers along the skin, thankfully one patch that didn’t hold scars from her parents.

The sudden ring of her cellphone jerked her out of her thoughts so abruptly that she leapt in place, hand clutching at the mark on her arm as though desperate for it. Abandoning the small kitchen in favour of snatching her cellphone from the pocket of her coat, relieved that she’d set it on ring otherwise she never would have remembered where it was, Iris pulled it out and glanced briefly at the lit screen.

Karen Fletcher

“No,” she mumbled, staring down at the phone as her heart began beating quickly in her chest. Would that man still be there? Was he having the doctor call Iris?

Hating the thought of ignoring him or the doctor again, Iris tapped the accept button and lifted the phone reluctantly to her ear.

“Hello, Dr. Fletcher.”

“Miss. Mayfair, are you alright? I’m sure that today was not what you expected…”

Sighing softly as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed, the closest thing to sit on, Iris leaned her forehead in one hand while the other clutched at the cellphone. “I’m sorry for running out like I did…and for running away. I…I hope…”

“Barry understands that it’s overwhelming, to meet a soulmate,” Dr. Fletched offered, the name of the man making Iris lift her head as her hand fell over her lips, the pain and guilt returning. Why was it easier when he didn’t have a name? “I know that it takes a bit of time to adjust to knowing you met your soulmate, especially with how afraid you seem to be of yours-”

“I’m not afraid of my marks,” Iris interrupted. “I love my marks. But…I never thought that I…”

The other line remained silent for a moment before Dr. Fletched began again softly, “Iris…there are many things that need to come to light. And I want to assure you that things will work, but I cannot do that if you don’t talk to me. Barry wants to know you, and I’m sure your other soulmates do as well,” she continued to explain calmly.

“You…know you who they are, don’t you?” Iris struggled out, fidgeting in place as her attention drifted down to her exposed arms and the various marks and scars that were on display.

“I may,” Fletcher answered hesitantly. “But that is not up to me to say. For now, I want to speak with you again, if you’re willing.”

“I dunno, Dr. Fletcher. Even if you say he understands…what I said was awful. And to have to share me with so many others?”

Dr. Fletcher didn’t speak up right away, as though she was trying to think of how to phrase what was on her mind. “You and Barry need to discuss this, not you and I, but I do want to help you, Iris. I can see that you’re in pain, that you’ve struggled through your life, and it’s because of those marks. Those soulmates. I don’t want you to have to carry that pain around with you for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t think I could afford your services,” she argued, sounding tired. “And as I said, I love my marks. There is nothing from my past that changes that.”

“You may love your marks, but I can see that they have…caused problems for you, Iris. Please, just meet with me one more time, no charge, so we can discuss this.”

Knowing that someone could see through her so easily, especially someone that had insight on her marks—and her scars—made Iris’s skin prickle uncomfortably. She trembled in place as her scars itched faintly, her shoulders shaking with the motion, before she clenched her muscles and hunched forward with the effort to remain still and frozen.

“I can’t,” she struggled out, the crack in her voice feeling like a strike through her vocal cords. “I’m sorry.”

Hurriedly hanging up with a shaky thumb over the ‘end call’ button as tears burned her eyes, Iris tried not to think of the blue-eyed man that had said one of the twenty-four marks on her body. The phone clattered to the floor without further thought as Iris remained hunched at the edge of her bed, wearing only her bra across her torso as her pale skin pebbled against the cold air. Her nails scraped across her arms, leaving red welts in their wake, unable to control the urge to remove the itches.

Carefully focusing on her breathing and doing her best to remain as calm as possible, Iris was almost too far gone into her mind to hear a second call come through her phone. The upturned screen once more read Dr. Fletcher’s name, but this time went ignored and unanswered as the pale woman struggled to push aside the panic attack threatening to overtake her.

Dr. Fletcher sighed as her call went to voicemail, moving to hang up the phone in her office before she sat in front of her computer forlornly. She had done her best to assure Barry that she would talk to Iris again, knowing that he and the other alters were going to have their own ways of dealing with what happened today. She had hoped that speaking with Iris and helping her through some of the struggles of her past may prompt her to seek Barry out again, but Iris had no desire to dredge up what had happened.

That alone told the older woman that they were old scars, both emotional and physical, and Iris had dealt with them in her own way—no matter how unhealthy that way may be.

Typing out an email to Barry that she had not been able to get a hold of Iris, hoping to avoid telling him of her first conversation with the woman, she assured him that she would try again and keep him informed before then she signed and sent the email.

Iris Mayfair, if Fletcher was to assume, had been abused while growing up because of her numerous soulmarks. Whether it was by family or people unrelated to her, she was mostly unsure, but she was leaning toward it having been one or both parents. Knowing for certain would help her to formulate a way of helping Iris, but the first hurdle was to actually make Iris want the help.

The woman was so accustomed to dealing with her pain and problems on her own, she probably didn’t trust easily—if at all.

Barry had been the one to say the words, not Kevin. It had been one of his personalities that spoke the words of Iris’s mark, and if Fletcher was so bet she would say that Iris had twenty-three marks on her body—one for each of the personalities in Kevin Wendell Crumb’s body. Kevin’s case was special on its own, having as many stable personalities as he did. But to have a soulmate with a mark for each personality was something that she had been trying to find for years.

Iris Mayfair was an amazing anomaly, and a perfect match for Kevin and the personalities that had made their reason for being to protect Kevin. The young woman reminded her of Kevin, sweet and gentle and easily hurt by those around her with a past that left her carrying deep wounds.

Sitting back in her chair she tapped ring-decorated fingers against her lips in thought. Perhaps Iris had some kind of record that she could get her hands on, even just to better understand what she was dealing with.

It wouldn’t be easy to obtain if she did, but it was at least something to look into.

She only hoped that Barry was able to keep the alters in control for the time being. She knew quite a few would rather go out and look for the poor woman on their own, and that could be dangerous for an already tender situation.

She had not met all of them yet, but there were some she knew who would have different ways of handling the situation than what Barry had done just recently.

Deciding that it was best to let Iris be for the rest of the day, the woman more than likely uncomfortably overwhelmed, Fletcher rose from her desk chair and began preparing for her next appointment. Barry had shown up early, the sole reason for running into Iris, and they had decided to cut the session short when she had constantly caught him going silent and lost in his mind—it made her wonder if he had been speaking with the alters or just thinking on his own about what had taken place.

Beneath the Philadelphia Zoo, Barry was sitting in the small kitchen of the home that they had created for themselves, the rooms of the abandoned tunnels making up a home of twenty-three personalities. Eyes closed as he rested his elbows on the table, forehead on his fists—ignoring the reprimanding look that he got from Patricia when he did it—Barry sat among the others in their circle of chairs, the light at his back shoulders casting a shadow among them.

Kevin remained sleeping quietly in his chair, curled up comfortably as the others spoke softly alongside him.

“Well, well, well, who’d have thought that sweet, innocent Barry would get rejected,” Jade teased, but there was something in her eyes that told him she was sorry for what he had gone through. None of them had wanted to be the ones to hear those words, so even as relieved as she was to not hear them, she felt sorry for him to have been the one.

“At least it wasn’t him,” he answered, glancing over to Kevin. He looked much younger and happier in his sleep, where he was safe. They knew he couldn’t remain asleep forever, it was cruel to take his life from him, but they only wanted to protect him from the world.

“Well, that crosses one mark off,” Orwell pointed out, tapping the calf that he had crossed over his other thigh, where the mark lay beneath his pants.

Dennis remained silent, even though he wanted to mention how they had been so sure he would be the one to hear those words. It did, however, make him curious to know what was going to be said to him.

If they could ever find this woman again.

“What did you do to chase her away?” Hedwig asked innocently, rocking his chair to and fro, from front legs to back legs.

“Stop that,” Rakel ordered, reaching over to slam all four legs of Hedwig’s chair back on the ground. The nine year old pouted and crossed his arms, glancing away from the larger man as he looked over to where Barry was oddly silent. Normally he’d be trying to call them all to order, to bring some kind of conduct to their group talks like this.

“I did not chase her away,” he answered calmly, ignoring the small issue between Rakal and Hedwig. “Dr. Fletcher mentioned that she was timid and afraid the entire time they were speaking. She thinks something happened to her…something to do with the marks.”

Mary Reynolds sighed softly from across the circle. “Multiple soulmarks still cause problems for people…twenty-three of them? You all know the difficulty we faced with ours. Kevin had us to help him, we all had each other, she…probably had no one.”

“She has us,” Dennis finally spoke up, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles on his pant-leg, drawing the attention of the other alters his way. “We protect Kevin. We keep him safe from everything in this world that wants to hurt him…and we will protect her as well.”

Rare as it was, Barry was nodding his head in agreement. “He’s right,” he answered, getting some looks of surprise. He and Dennis did not see eye-to-eye often, they had such contradicting personalities and dominant mindsets that it often caused them to clash. “She is ours to protect now. She has been hurt and it won’t be easy…but she was meant for us. All of us. So that makes it worth it.”

“Let’s find her first,” Patricia interrupted calmly. “Then we will go from there.”

Barry looked over to Samuel, who he had already decided would be the one to next enter the light. Samuel was slightly older, in his early forties, so Barry knew that he wasn’t going to go rushing out to try and find her, probably just scaring her away in the process. Rising from the seat that Barry had claimed, Samuel stepped from the kitchen to go and change into his own clothing, more formal than Barry’s but not nearly as monochromatic as Dennis’s.

They all knew what Iris looked like now, thanks to Barry and his odd enjoyment with going to see Dr. Fletcher as he ended up running into their fleeing soulmate.

Now they were all left to wonder where they would go from there; Iris had run, and they had no idea where she went or how to find her. There was a chance that Dr. Fletcher would be able to follow through with her assurances and get a hold of the young woman, but they had their doubts after having lived through the life that Kevin was raised in.

If she was anything like Kevin, she would want to avoid the problem on her own. It was Kevin’s way of coping and they were born as a result of it.

Entering his bedroom and beginning to remove Barry’s clothes, making a mental note to drop them off in his room on his way passed, Samuel wondered what their little soulmate was doing in that moment. Was she thinking of them? How was she handling the knowledge that she had found one of her twenty-three soulmates?

Did she know that all soulmates were housed in one body?

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#Split #Split movie #Split 2016 #Barry #Dennis #Barry Split #Dennis Split #Fanfiction #Split Imagine #Soulmate #Soulmate AU #Barry/OC #Dennis/OC #Original Female Character #James McAvoy #The One With Whiskey Eyes

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break-slash · 4 years ago

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Puzzleship JP & KR Fancomic Recommendation List

UPDATE (19-12-2020): Added two more artists and two more titles on the Japanese lists!

I don’t consider myself as someone very tidy and organized, but I just like making lists of the things I love, somehow. Hence this post. I haven’t been in the fandom for long but I thought I’d share some of my favorites primarily from two sites: pixiv and postype. Most of the postype ones are behind paywall, and I will mark them differently.

Some of my favorites come from the same artists, so I’ll also link their pixiv profile on top of my favorite work of them.

(I actually bookmarked a lot and picking them isn’t an easy task, so I will update this step by step. If you see only a link of an artist, that’s the reason, but I can guarantee you will love their works! Feel free to recommend me yours through reblogs or DM as well!)

Japanese

Artist: CYHGM

She is a Chinese and is more active on Weibo (she posted tons of puzzleship there, but my Mandarin is beyond rusty so I could only cry in despair lmao), but she has two fancomics that I absolutely adore of. Those two mentioned fancomics are:

The Past and The Future. You can check my translation for this one here. It tells about Atem who gets transported to 3000 years later before his coronation, and that’s where he met post-canon!Yugi. Just... everything about this comic is so wonderful. I teared up at the last page, not gonna lie ;_;

The Pharaoh and The Fairy: An Ancient Egypt-slash-fantasy AU featuring the S0/TOEI casts. The fairy Yugi was saved by Atem, and it’s an obligatory for fairies to grant their savior’s wishes. However, Atem doesn’t exactly have something he wants of, and this confuses Yugi on how he should repay him back. Pure undiluted sugar, and fairy!Yugi is just so cute.

Artist: Fushitas

Arguably one of the most popular Puzzleship fanartists in the JP fandom (look at their number of followers on Twitter, man), but maybe it’s also due to the fact they were in AoT fandom too. They’re mostly active on Twitter, and if you also watch Zexal, they draw tons of Yuma-centric pairings too. They have released lots of books, and their prices on the reseller sites are... well, let’s just say, unbelievable. Just to show how famous they are.

From everlasting to everlasting: Set after DSOD. A mysterious figure appears in front of Atem, claiming to be his queen. Everyone in the after life somehow acknowledges this person, which makes him even more confused because he’s the only one unaware of this. On the living realm, Yugi who is on the way to his home got hit by a truck (isekai much??) and when he woke up, he suddenly plays the role of Atem’s queen. I’ve always adored Fushitas’ drawing, and this is no exception. The story is pretty simple, but is still good! The ending of this comic is everything I’ve always wanted from the canon lol.

The King’s Guest: Ancient Egypt AU. The councils are starting to get worried because Atem shows no interest in marrying someone, so Shimon opens up a “chance” sort of for civilians to become “someone for the Pharaoh to talk with”. The civilian Yugi takes this chance right off the bat, and stuff happens? This one is just so sweet and the misunderstanding later in the story kinda cracks me up. I really love the way they build the two’s chemistry in here.

Artist: usi

They only draw two puzzleship fancomics, but both are so good and explores the themes I’ve loved from the pairing.

The Lotus’ Devil: Set post-canon with a flashback. It tells about Yugi’s regret in the past where he wanted to show Atem a small pool supposed to be full of lotus flower only to arrive seeing them not blooming. Fast forward to the post-canon, he found out that there’s actually a monster residing on that pool. I really, really loved the ending scene of this one.

Who’s The Detestable, Fortunate Guy Here: I think this is set sometime in the canon story, although the exact timing is unclear. It’s a short comic of Yugi asking Atem to pretend to be his date and go on a “dating practice”. A very pleasant hurt-and-comfort kind of story, and who doesn’t love a story of them dating anyways? :”D

Artist: Houzuki Anzu

She doesn’t draw much YGO, but she has some Arc-V and 5D’s fanarts too if you watch the series!

Hourglass: Sets after the Memory World arc. Yugi keeps hearing a strange sound inside his mind, and he finds out there’s a huge hourglass standing there, guarded by the will of Millenium Puzzle. Apparently, the hourglass is linked to Atem’s remaining time in the living realm? Anyways, the ending of this comic might look like a cliffhanger, but I personally think it isn’t. I love the theme this comic picks to explore and the way it is presented.

Present: Same setting with Hourglass, but this one focuses more on Atem sorting out his feelings about the Ceremonial Duel and what he has learned from Yugi in general. It’s a very nice extra detail that the canon slightly lacks of, and I just love... bittersweet stuff in general haha.

Artist: Chiriko

Are you the type who wants puzzleship to be full of happiness and fluff and nothing else? Well, she has a number of comics to fill that need! I actually love all of her works, but if I have to pick, these two are my favorite:

...Don’t Ever Leave Me Again: A short story about Yugi having a nightmare of where he was stuck in the fire accident at Otogi’s store. Well... this isn’t a fluff sort of, but it’s... a happy ending still? /shot

[Untitled]: A dialogue-less comic, but this is the sort of post-canon what-if that I really, really like. Atem stroking Yugi’s face while sleeping is just... so soft man....

Artist: Komori Nea

Their art style was one of those that’s very noticeable and has a certain charm on it. They are pretty active on Twitter, and even draws puzzle comics once in a while that haven’t been uploaded to pixiv (which is why I recommend you to check their twitter gallery too haha)

The Soul Stays Awake: Post!DSOD. Atem comes back from afterlife in hoping that Yugi would be as happy as he is, but months after, Atem’s existence still hasn’t been registered on Yugi’s life just yet. Another post!DSOD take that I like which involves the fear of another farewell and uncertainty, but this is a good hurt-and-comfort. I swear, it’ll hurt you just... for a while. :”)

The Attack’s Aim: Set during the canon series. A short comic mostly portraying Yugi’s hidden strength but also the tenacity of duelist that is not only targeted toward the opponent, but also to Atem, without the person actually noticing it. The last page of this one is so... soft and gentle I had to put it into this list.

Artist: caf

Often draw with S0/TOEI style, characters and characterization in mind. Their coloring in illustrations is so soft, plus artists who specialize in S0/TOEI style can’t be found so easily. Their comic style is not a manga-like one and they write the dialogues with handwriting, but if you can read hiragana and write and understand how kanji works (so you can write it on translation machine), their comics are easy to understand!

magenta: S0/TOEI AU where Yugi and Atem are two separate person. A short comic of Yugi lying under the rain as Atem searches for his whereabouts. I really love the way they portray the rain and the atmosphere surrounding the scene. Or maybe I’m just biased with rains in general, ahahaha.

Yuugi and Mao’s Stay Home: Same AU as above. Our two boys has to face the same shit we do IRL in this comic, which is quarantine. Atem offers to cook something for Yugi since he can’t eat outside. You love seeing Yugi eating stuff? This is a perfect comic for y’all.

Artist: Kkyut

Artist: Kayu(i)

Others:

Gemini: As Atem comes back to the living world, Yugi faces the dilemma of having being separated by “his other self” physically and mentally. A short comic, but the lines the artist used are so... beautiful. Like, the way they describe Yugi’s loneliness?? Just hits the park so much.

Until The Hourglass Runs Out: Set after the Memory World Arc. As their farewell day goes closer, Yugi decides to give Atem a full control of his body at school so he could spend his time with Jounouchi and the gang more. However, things don’t go as smooth as Yugi had expected. If you like that little teeny weeny pain before the Ceremonial Duel, this comic perfectly suits the taste.

see you sometime: Post-canon. Mahaad offers Atem a chance to meet Yugi in the living realm one more time, but with several conditions. Firstly, he could only stay for a day at maximum. Secondly, Yugi won’t be able to remember who he spent his time with after Atem hangs out with him. Thirdly, Yugi will not be able to “recognize” this Atem; he will only be registered in Yugi’s mind as a new classmate. A bittersweet comic in whole, but seeing the two having fun like a normal teenager would just makes me grin.

After The Rain: A dialogue-less comic, so everyone would be able to read this right away. A short comic of the two, but still very cute and wholesome!

The Tropics of Horus: Post!DSOD, Atem has to chase Kisara who lingers around Kaiba’s soul and he needs Yugi’s help to bring Kisara back to afterlife, but he has his own ulterior motive. This manga is so dialogue-heavy and might be hard to dissect especially if you don’t understand JP grammar and context, but the time spent trying to understand the meaning behind every words will be worth it. That much I guarantee. Just... everything about this comic, and how Atem’s “ulterior motive” connects to our boys’ adventure in canon series are so well planned. You can also purchase the R18 version in a form of the book here (toranoana)

Christmas Day: S0/TOEI puzzleship hint (dark puzzle???). There’s something in store for Yugi in Christmas, but this one might surprise Yugi a lot. It’s not that the prompt of “Atem gets separated from Yugi temporarily” is uncommon, but it is still a sweet one and makes you smile throughout the pages.

Korean

All titles mentioned here are not free unless mentioned otherwise. Also I don’t understand Korean except being able to read Yugi and Atem’s name, so my story interpretation might be wrong. If you understand Korean, I’d really love for you input! ;_;

You can check out on how to buy comics from postype here

Yugi’s 2020 Birthday Anthology: Rain and After End

This is an anthology consisting of four titles, but they share the same (or similar) setting where Atem is reincarnated, but he doesn’t remember his past (or has not yet, depending on how the story portrays it). Some are age-gap (adult!Yugi and high school student!Atem), so you might want to consider that if it’s not your cup of tea.

To Like Someone is to...: Age-gap setting. Mostly tells about how Yugi deals with his feeling as the reincarnated Atem in front of him turns out to have a feeling on him. I like how the story’s conclusion is that Yugi will sort it out slowly while also teasing Atem how he’s “too early” to date Yugi w.

In A Circle: A story about how the two met through an online chess game. Iirc Yugi works in a game company and Atem is sort of a famous e-sports player in this setting. There’s a lot of dialogue in this one and the app sometimes can’t process them very well, but I liked what I can understand from it! not very convincing is it haha i’m sorry i shouldn’t have done this

Familiarity: Age-gap setting, where Yugi becomes Atem’s caretaker. The comic mostly focuses on how Atem notices how kind (or too kind) Yugi is sometimes, but there are times where he feels distant. The plot where Atem gets into a fight with the other kid in his school because the kid mocks Yugi, and how Yugi just... accepts it even when Atem doesn’t want to say his reason of punching the kid is just.... god... I love this kind of age-gap setting like this I guess ;_;

Touchdown: Age-gap setting, but Atem is older in here (university student). The two goes to Atem’s university festival and they think about their own feeling when they got separated. On their way to drop Atem off, he confesses to Yugi, but Yugi is still unsure on his overlapping feeling between the reincarnated Atem and the Atem he knows. Make sure you play Motohiro Hata’s Rain and Aimer’s After Rain during the car scene to make the “rain” mood works even better :”)

Others:

Try For Point: A continuation of Touchdown, where Atem (like, the one from the past) visits Yugi in his dream and helps Yugi in sorting out is his feeling toward his reincarnated self. Atem’s advice is so sweet and there’s one certain line from this comic that I remember very deeply - there’s a part where he says, “If you don’t pull out the card, you won’t know what card it is, right?” to help Yugi clearing out his hesitancy ;w; at this point, I curse myself for not being able to understand Korean

#puzzleshipping #blindshipping #ygo #im sorry if i can't make a precise description...#will be updated regularly as i scan through my bulky bookmarks

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girlofmanyfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss It Better

A/n: It’s like two or three days late (under the prompt of cuddles), but it has a decent word count so I’m not too upset with myself! It kinda accidentally turned into a hurt/comfort thing but that helped with ✨plot✨ So it’s okay! Also @titzweek here ya go-

Word count: 3000

Trigger warnings: mention of mild aggression (throwing plates), blood mention (nothing too graphic)

Warnings: it’s not the greatest and also i edited it at like 1 or 2am in the dark so like, maybe errors? Idk

Writing taglist: @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @bookwyrminspiration @percabetn @an-absolute-travesty @linhamon-roll @a-lonely-tatertot @loverofallthingssmart @vibing-in-the-void @clearlykeefitz @callas-starkflower-stew @enbies-and-felonies

The morning mist held strong, reinforcing gravity and making it even more difficult for Tam to drag himself out of his makeshift bed by the lake. Leaning over the fogged up waters, he wrung out his bangs, combing them back into place with his hands. The water here could hardly be trusted.

“Well,” he grunted as he stood up, patting an old dying tree with a gloved hand. “It was nice seeing you, Wildwood. You take it easy, alright?”

The trees groaned in response, both from age and from the weight of all that it had undergone and seen from the hazy backgrounds of the world. Maybe that was why he cared for Wildwood. It was like him. From the shadows. Ignored until needed. Cast aside when they differ from the norm. To him, he and Wildwood were one and the same. Or at least, they used to be. In the past months, Tam had found what Wildwood could only hope to receive: love.

And as the colors of the sunrise faded into blue, Tam was comforted by that one constant he had in his life. His perfect golden boy there to bring light into his world.

————

As soon as Tam walked into the Vackers’ territory, he was yanked to the side, knocking the breath from his chest. He prepared for a fight, but upon seeing a stylized sparkling fabric blinking in and out of sight, he relaxed just a bit.

“What the hell, B? I thought you were trying to attack me.”

“Quiet,” Biana scolded, finally coming into view. Her annoyed expression quickly changed to fear and dread as a shattering sound echoes across the stone walls of the extensive landscape. Biana shut her eyes and winced noticeably. “He’s been at that ever since Dad stormed off.”

“Rough day?”

“I guess you could say that.” Biana bit her lip. “Mom went after Dad after he yelled at us.”

“But the two of you are okay, right?”

“I’m alright. It’s Fitz I’m worried about,” she admitted. “I’ve been too scared to go up to him because of… well, you know.” Biana’s thumb traced over her scars absentmindedly.

Tam squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “Hey, you did what you could. It’s not your job to stop him from doing something irrational, and you’re not expected to do something that’ll trigger you. I’ll go after him.”

“Tam, it’s fine, I’ll do it-”

“I’ll go after him, you get some rest.”

“Only if you promise to be careful,” she warned. “Use your cloak as a shield, so that you don’t get caught in the crossfire of his throws. And put your gloves back on!”

Tam slipped off his gloves and tossed them behind his back without a second thought. He dropped his cloak in a similar fashion, only going back to fold it neatly and add it to the pile. “I’ll be fine.”

“Tam, you know how he gets when he’s upset. The rage, it blinds him, it blurs anything and everything around him to the point where the only he knows is that fire of hate. He’s not going to register that it’s you approaching him.”

“I’m his boyfriend,” Tam pointed out in an exasperated manner. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“Isn’t that a shame.”

Biana huffed, rubbing the crease between her brows. “You’re just as stubborn as he is.”

“Don’t they say that birds of a feather flock together?” Tam asked, walking backwards and opening his arms in a gesture that said That’s just how it is.

“Yeah, until the cat comes,” she shot back.

“Then let’s hope that cat doesn’t arrive.”

“You two idiots deserve each other!” she cried in one last attempt to get him to turn back.

“Thank you!” he called back, already headed towards the horizon.

Biana sank to the floor, scowling as she dragged Tam’s belongings closer to her for protection. “Dense fool,” she muttered. But Tam was already out of sight.

--------

Tam approached the area in a calm stroll, but as he drew nearer, the cold dread that Biana had described filled him and dragged him back, just like the familiar, addictive pull of the shadows. They gathered at his feet, shadowflux begging to be called on, but Tam was far too busy trying to calculate a way to coax his boyfriend into putting the crystal dishes down.

He was like a rampant bull, hurling plate after plate at the wall. His hands had small cuts, but overall he seemed to be unscathed despite the several hours this had clearly been going on. Tam avoided clumps of shattered pieces so as not to startle him. While his movements proved to make him a berserker, it was also an art. One slight decibel off might send him on the attacking side.

“Fitz!” Tam shouted. He didn’t even glance his way. “FITZ!” Still no response. He just kept on launching silverware as far as he could. Tam sighed. He didn’t want it to come down to this, but if Biana had waited hours just for him to show up and put an end to this, he was not going to let her down. He seized the tendrils of shadows that had been itching to be used and directed all of his focus towards the cup about to be thrown with the hope that if he used his ability instead of telekinesis, he would recognize his beloved.

Shiiiing!

Fitz immediately put his hands over his mouth in shock and guilt, rushing over to check the damage.

Tam cupped his hand, blood gushing from the wound like a river. “Guess you ran out of throwing stars, huh?” he joked halfheartedly, wincing as he applied pressure to the cut.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so dumb.” Fitz ripped off a sleeve from his shirt to wrap around the slice in his partner’s hand. He cupped Tam’s cheek, the boy gladly moving towards the physical affection. “I’m so sorry, Tammy.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t mean to do it,” he replied nonchalantly. Upon seeing the great panic spreading through Fitz’s person, he took a more gentle approach. “Hey, it’s okay. You’ve had a bad day and you just made a mistake, and I forgive you.”

“I hurt you.” Fitz’s voice cracked, and it became evident that Tam’s words had gone over his head. Fitz scooped Tam up in his arms and raced into the house.

“Relax, golden boy.” Tam rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the attentiveness he was being given. “It’s just a little cut, it’ll heal.”

Fitz scrambled through the drawers until he found the bandages, a Bottle of Youth, and the antibiotic ointment. From there, his panic switched to precision, first rinsing the wound, then applying the ointment, then wrapping the gauze bandage. It was a completely different side of him, one that would sacrifice the world for the ones that he loved. And despite Tam’s rough exterior, he couldn’t help but lean his head on his other hand in admiration.

Once he had finished, Fitz sat on the bar stool next to Tam’s and combed through his rosy pink locks in distress. Tam nudged his shoulder with his nose several times, earning him a side hug and a kiss to the cheek, but no words other than the repeated apologies and self-deprecating phrases.

“Babe,” Tam said helplessly. “Let’s go upstairs at least, so we can talk about this privately.”

Fitz nodded, letting him lead the way. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he didn’t notice when Tam had tucked him into bed and wrapped an arm around him, burying his face in his neck.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Fitz mumbled again. Tears welled up in his eyes, and Tam used his abled hand to wipe them.

“I told you it’s forgiven,” Tam gently reminded him. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not the Vackers,” he countered, sniffling. “We always have to keep up our reputation, keep on smiling and charming everyone just to go to the store. I can’t go anywhere without people expecting me to be the perfect golden boy.”

“No one is perfect. We’re all flawed and traumatized and hurt, and we make stupid decisions because of them. You’re a kid, Fitz, it’s not your job to hold your family together.”

“I guess. But Biana…” he sighed, pulling Tam closer as he facepalmed in guilt. “I shouldn’t have done that with her here. And how am I supposed to clean up the yard before Mom gets back?”

“Don’t worry about that, the gnomes are already on it,” he coaxed. “And Biana understands. You can talk to her later. For now, the golden boy needs to rest.”

“I can’t,” Fitz protested, trying to get up. Tam flipped himself over him, ending up besides Fitzroy once more. “Tam, I have to take care of you, and help the gnomes, and apologize to Biana, and-”

“And all of that can wait until tomorrow,” Tam finished for him. “Except me, of course.”

Fitz laughed, a real, rich laugh, and he could tell that it was the first time he had done that in a while. “I’m guessing you want me to stay here all day, all night?”

“Well, I do need medical and physical attention you know.”

He kissed Tam’s nose, making him blush furiously. “Well then, I guess I’ve got to cancel my plans. But seriously, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“You could kiss it better,” Tam suggested cheekily.

Fitz said no more, gingerly taking his wrapped hand and peppering kisses around where he knew the injury to be. He trailed them up his arms and neck until he finally met his lips.

“I am really sorry, babe. That got all out of control. My father, he… he’s done some messed up things to this family, and as the proclaimed ‘Gifted Child,’ I felt responsible for stepping in. And like everything else, I ruined it.”

“You don’t realize that the good you do purposely outweighs the slip-ups you make along the way.”

“This was more than a slip-up, Tam. I became a monster, something I’ve never seen before. I was a violent beast that lost control, all because my Dad yelled at me for being a ‘disgrace to the Vackers’ for being gay. And because of that stupidity, I hurt you, and scared Biana outside of that.”

Tam’s eyes widened with shock. “Wait, you got angry because you were protecting me?”

“Well, yeah, of course. My father can drag me down all he wants, but he’s not touching the people that I love.”

“Love?”

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve known you weren’t ready-”

“I love you too.”

“I- Wait, really?”

“Duh,” Tam chuckled, before his expression grew shadowed and weary. “Besides… we all have a dark side. I know I’d do anything for the people I care about.”

“What does yours look like?” Fitz asked. “Your dark side, I mean.”

He smiled bitterly, shadows of his past trauma flashes before his eyes in a relentless, rough grip. “You don’t want to know that part of me.”

“Babe, I want to know every side of you.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Of course,” Fitz grinned eagerly. “I want to know everything you’re willing to share.”

“Then cuddle with me. Get to know another part of me.”

Fitzroy rested his chin on Tam’s chest and brushed his bangs away from his eyes, just as his own were dancing with glee. “Gladly.”

—————

Tam woke up to a loud series of sharp knocks on the bedroom door.

“Your breakfast is gonna get cold,” a feminine voice told him.

He inhaled sharply and ruffled his hair, using his tunic to rub his eyes, all in an attempt to focus on the figure leaning against the doorframe.

“C’mon, it’s past noon.”

Tam bolted upright, rushing to the bedside to pull his boots on. It could’ve been Fitz calling to him, but his mind was cloudy, warping any and all audio that reached his ears.

“I knew that would get you up,” the voice snickered. “Fitz told me to get you up in time for breakfast in bed.”

Tam chanced a glance up to see if his vision had finally cleared. Yup, definitely not Fitz. “Oh hey, B. I take it you and your brother talked?”

She nodded, arms still crossed tightly around her lilac fleece-like pullover for warmth. “Came running to me and went on his whole apology speech once you passed out. It was dorky, but it was also very… him. If that makes any sense.”

“It does.” He took a moment to inspect the tray and found a neatly folded piece of paper. A note from him. He read through it as Biana kept talking.

Good morning dearest, I just wanted to leave you this note to remind you that I love you and to apologize once again.

“When I saw him rush outside a few minutes after Mom left with an armful of tupperware, I was confused, but when he started throwing them in the yard, I was terrified for him. He’s lost control, but never like that. I felt powerless.”

“You did what you could, no one can ask you for more,” he mumbled.

“I stood to the side and waited for his boyfriend to come and stop him, and he wound up getting hurt. Real brave on my end.”

“It’s not being brave you should be aiming for, it’s doing what you need to do in order to protect the people you live for.”

I’m sorry. I know you’ll probably tell me not to apologize, but I really needed to get that out there in ink. Thank you for being there for Biana, I don’t know how I would live with myself if I had traumatized her or made her feel unsafe around me, but we talked for a bit and she helped me find better coping mechanisms, so all is forgiven. Well, as long as I give her my desserts for this month.

“I don’t think I did that yesterday. I chose the coward’s path.”

“You took the wise path, and you protected number one,” Tam corrected. “You know your brother better than anyone, and you knew the right choice was to let him blow off some steam until someone who wasn’t present when everything went down could talk him out of it. That was brave, and I think it’s quite admirable, too.”

“I guess you’re right.” She sighed, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail to give her hands something to do. “Still, I’m sorry about your hand.”

Tam waved it off. “I’ve gotten enough Vacker apologies over that. There’s no need.”

“If you say so.”

You were completely understanding last night, even while I was breaking down. You guided me through everything, and you were there for me, even when I couldn’t be there for myself. Thank you for being there. For letting me shadow you until I could be whole and healed again.

“You’re good for him,” Biana blurted out abruptly.

Tam furrowed his brows, sure he heard that wrong. “I’m what?”

“I said that you’re good for him. Fitz. I meant what I said when I told you that you two idiots deserve each other.”

“Thank you,” he breathed in shock.

“Remember the idiot part and don’t let it get to your head.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You are my healing darkness. No, not light. Darkness. Because I never understood why darkness was so demonized. Shadows are what keep you cool on a hot summer’s evening, what provides cover from the rain, and what puts you to sleep at night. The color black is as natural as the air flowing into our lungs, the blood circulating through our bodies, and the dirt under our feet. So when I think of darkness, I don’t think of fear; I think of hope. I think of you.

“You better not hurt him.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m serious, Tam. I know it sounds hypocritical considering what happened to you yesterday, but I’m just as protective of Fitz as you are of Linh. Understood?”

“Yes, Ms. Vacker.”

Biana relaxed a bit at the confirmation. “You promise to look after him?”

“I promise,” he agreed.

Y’know, when you called me golden boy, it got me thinking. Gold is the weakest metal, and for a while I thought the nickname fit me perfectly. A boy who was seen as the perfect, charming, valuable golden boy who could break in the blink of an eye. But the more I was with you, the more I thought about it. If shadows were misunderstood, maybe gold was too. And here’s the thing: gold doesn’t rust. You can break it and bend it and try all you want to ruin its life, but no matter what, you can’t make it rust. And second to you, that is the strongest thing I can imagine. So for you, I’ll stay strong. I won’t give up. I won’t rust.

“One last thing before I leave you alone.”

“Go right ahead.” Tam let himself free fall onto the mountain of pillows behind him, note still in hand.

“Don’t take advantage of him. He may be a pain in my neck, but he’s valuable,” Biana mentioned, clearly having so much more to say. “You’re… incredibly lucky to have him.”

So let’s work jointly on this. On healing. I’ll be your gold, strong when you’re weak. And you’ll be my darkness, always there for me. But we have to do this together. I’m willing to take a leap of faith if you are. All of my trust lies in you, and I hope you’ll pay me the same honor. So what do you say? Circle yes or no and meet me by Moonglade with your response. Last I remember, I still have to kiss it better.

With love,

Fitzroy

Tam picked up the pen tied to the tray and circled yes without hesitation. “I must be the luckiest man in the world.”

#pls give feedback!#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #fitz vacker #tam song #titz #fitz and the tantrums #kotlc fanfic #Cade’s writing #titz week 2020 #should i post it this early? No #but I’m impatientttt #lemme know what you think about this one cuz i have mixed feelings

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romeoandjulietyouwish · 5 years ago

Note

Hey lis Bae could you write a cute irondad one shot where Tony is focusing over Morgan and ignores Peter and baby Peter becomes jealous and eventually has his first ever rebellion against Tony and pepper. PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE WITH CHEERRYYYY ON TOP 😩😭❤️

Thank you so much for the prompt, darling! (I made Peter a little older and please excuses most of this because I wrote it half asleep and on pain meds)

This is pretty long so here’s the ao3 link

Peter is sitting up in his bed, gently running his fingers through his stuffed bear’s fur. When Tony and Pepper first gave it to him after his adoption, the fur had been neat and smooth, but now after years of Peter cuddling it and dragging his fingers through the fur, it’s thick and matted. But Peter couldn’t care less. Just touching the bear brings him an enormous amount of comfort.

In the other room, Peter can hear his dad saying goodnight to Morgan, “I love you, Morgan.” Tony’s voice is soft.

“I love you 3000,” Morgan says sleepily.

“Goodnight, peanut.”

Tony’s footsteps echo down the hallway towards Peter’s door. Peter expects him to stop, to come in and say goodnight, tell him he loves him, but the footsteps just continue down the hallway to his parents’ bedroom.

He doesn’t know why he expects it. Tony hasn’t said goodnight to him in months. Not since Morgan began demanding more and more of him at bedtime.

Peter curls onto his side away from the door, clutching his stuffed bear close to his chest. His parents don’t have time for him anymore. Not since Morgan was born. And Peter understands, she’s a baby and she needs more attention. Besides, Peter knew this was going to happen. He’s not Pepper and Tony’s biological child, not like Morgan. So it follows that once they had a real kid of their own Peter would become an afterthought.

Peter’s fourteen, he can take care of himself. But he wants his parents back. He wants things to go back to what they were before Morgan came along. But Peter loves Morgan. He loves his baby sister unconditionally.

But it can’t fill the aching in his stomach that his parents don’t love him anymore. Peter curls his legs up to his chest and clenches his hands into fists. Maybe he’d be better off somewhere else. He could go stay with his uncle instead.

He could be with someone who really loves him and would have time for Peter. Someone who wouldn’t forget about Peter’s AcaDeca meets and apologize through a four-word text. His uncle loves him even if his parents don’t.

The next morning Peter wakes up more tired than he started. A quick glance at the clock shows him that it’s almost nine o’clock. With a groan, Peter forces himself out of bed.

Peter wanders down the stairs to the smell of breakfast. He knows it’s well past the time they all eat together, but normally if he sleeps in his parents will put his plate in the microwave. He pads across the wooden floor and pops open the microwave.

It’s empty.

Peter sighs and walks into the living room where His parents sit with Morgan watching some cartoons. Morgan is on Pepper’s lap, playing with her mother’s fingers. Tony is almost nodding off against the arm of the couch, but he keeps his eyes focused on the screen.

“Is there any breakfast for me?” Peter asks without preamble.

Tony even has the decency to look upset, “No, sorry, kid. We didn’t know when you’d be up.”

“It’s fine,” Peter says quickly as he turns around and walks back in the kitchen. It is fine, he convinces himself. He’s old enough to make his own breakfast. He quickly pulls the eggs from the fridge and gets about making his own breakfast.

Peter eats alone on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t want to go into the living room just to see his parents-

Morgan’s parents fuss over her every need.

By the time Peter has cleaned his dishes, Pepper has left for work and Tony has headed to the shop. Maybe this is his chance to spend time with his dad for once. So Peter takes the elevator down to the shop and opens the door. His dad is hunched over his work, Morgan sitting in his lap playing with one of her toys.

“Dad?” Peter asks, hovering in the door of the shop. “Can I help you in here today?”

Tony sighs, “I’m sorry, Pete, but I have to take care of Morgan in here since Pep’s working. I can’t risk being distracted and her getting hurt.”

“It’s fine,” Peter says. “I have stuff to do anyway.”

Tony sighs, “Maybe tomorrow?”

Peter nods but he knows it won’t happen. He hasn’t worked in the shop with his dad in months.

Peter spends the rest of the day locked in his room, eating a quick lunch. He works on a school project, but his mind always wanders back to his parents. Do they really not love him?

The more Peter thinks about it the more instances he comes up with where Morgan’s needs have always been put before his, even when it wasn’t necessary. Maybe this is Tony and Pepper’s way of silently pushing him out of their family.

Peter doesn’t come down for dinner and neither of his parents comes up to get him, only furthering the sinking feeling in his stomach.

So Peter stuffs a bag full of his clothes and as soon as his parents are distracted with Morgan after dinner, he ducks into the elevator and orders it down to the ground. From there he hails a taxi and tells the driver his uncle’s address. His heart is pounding the whole way, waiting for his parents to call his phone and ask where he is. They don’t. Within twenty minutes, Peter is standing in front of his favorite uncle’s door.

After three knocks, the door cracks open, revealing his Uncle Rhodey wearing a concerned frown, “Peter? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Peter shakes his head, looking at his feet, “Can-can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” Rhodey steps aside and wraps an arm around Peter as he leads him to the couch. “Did something happen with your parents? Do they know you’re here?”

Peter shakes his head.

Peter has always loved his uncle’s apartment. It’s the perfect mix of comfort and familiarity. On the back of the couch is a worn quilt that Rhodey used to use to make Peter a fort in the living room, all of his mugs are chipped and stained, and it’s homey. It’s just what Peter needs right now.

Peter drops his bag by his feet as he sits on the couch and turns to his uncle with sad eyes. Rhodey rubs his back, “What’s going on?”

Peter takes a shaky breath, “I don’t think mom and dad want me anymore.”

Rhodey’s eyes bulge, “What? Peter, your parents love you.”

“No they don’t,” Peter shakes his head. “They hardly ever spend time with me anymore. And I know Morgan is still a baby and she needs their attention but it really hurts when they don’t say goodnight to me or they come to my events anymore. I can’t remember the last time they said they loved me,” Peter cries.

“Oh, Peter,” Rhodey pulls Peter into a tight hug, just as protective and caring as when Peter was a child. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Peter shakes his head, “I don’t think so. I’m not really their kid so it makes sense that once they got one of their own there wouldn’t be room for me and they’d want to get rid of me-”

“Stop that, Peter,” Rhodey squeezes him tighter. “Your parents love you more than anything.” He pushes Peter back, holding him at arm’s length. “On the day they signed your adoption papers your dad came to me in tears saying that he was going to ruin your life and that he was going to ruin you.”

“Uncle Rhodey-”

“Let me finish first,” he squeezes Peter’s shoulder. “I told him that he was going to make a hundred thousand mistakes with you. But as long as he held you tight and loved you fiercely he would be a wonderful parent. And I think he forgot that. So what’s going to happen is that you’re going to get some sleep and in the morning your parents will be here and talk everything out as a family. I promise everything will be alright. Do you trust me?”

Peter nods.

“Good.” Rhodey squeezes his shoulder. “I’m going to grab you a blanket and some pillows so you can camp out here for the night.”

“Thanks, Uncle Rhodey,” Peter smiles at him.

Rhodey shares the sentiment and walks to the closet, coming back a few minutes later with heaps of blankets that he tosses on top of his nephew. Peter laughs lightly and it’s like music to Rhodey. He hates seeing Peter so broken-hearted.

“Have a good sleep, kid,” Rhodey says gently as he tucks a pillow under Peter’s head.

“Goodnight, Uncle Rhodey,” Peter whispers.

Peter lays his head down on the pillow and slowly sinks into a deep sleep.

The first thing he hears when he wakes up is crying. He keeps his eyes tight shut, “How could we do this to him?” Pepper cries. “How did we not notice?”

“We fucked up,” Tony says simply. “And now we have to get our son back.” There’s a shuffle. “Thank you for taking care of our son, honey bear.”

“Of course, Tones. I love that kid.”

“We all do.”

“Do you think he’s awake yet?” Pepper asks, sniffing.

“Let’s check.”

Peter hears people walk back into the living room and two people approach him.

“Peter? Baby? Are you awake?” Tony’s hand strokes through Peter’s curls.

Groggily, Peter pretends to wake up, “Dad?”

“I’m here, bambino.”

Peter opens his eyes to find Tony sitting on the coffee table, leaning over to touch his head. Pepper is sitting on the couch by his feet, dabbing away her tears with a tissue. And Rhodey is standing in the doorway, turning away when he sees Peter is up.

“Why are you here?” Peter asks even though he already knows the answer. He sits up and curls into the corner of the sofa, forcing Tony’s hand to fall between them.

“Rhodey called us, sweetheart,” Pepper moves closer so she is sitting beside Tony. “He said that you were safe with him and that we should come by in the morning to work everything out.” She squeezes his foot, “Why did you run away, baby? Do you really think we don’t love you anymore?”

“Yeah,” Peter whispers, looking at his knees. “I just don’t really feel like part of this family anymore. You guys always spend so much time with Morgan-”

“She’s barely two, Peter,” Tony says quickly. “She needs attention.”

“And what about me, dad?” Peter bites. “Don’t I need attention too? When was the last time we worked together in your workshop? When was the last time you chose to come to my decathlon meets instead of babysitting Morgan? When was the last time you said goodnight to me? When was the last time you told me you loved me? Because I sure as hell don’t remember. But the sad thing is I understand. I understand that Morgan is your biological child. And who am I? Just some kid you found and made your son. I’m nobody.” By the time he’s finished both of his parents are crying and Peter finds tears falling from his own eyes.

“Peter,” Tony breathes. A second later, Tony and Pepper both wrap him in a crushing hug, holding him as tight as they can. “I love you so much, bambino. I’m sorry we made you feel like that. I am so so sorry. I’ll do better, I swear to you I will do better.”

“We both will,” Pepper corrects. “I love you so very much, Petey,” Pepper says, using a nickname she hasn’t called him in years. “To the moon and back again.”

And things get better. Tony makes a strong effort to spend at least one hour alone with Peter, watching a movie, working in the lab, helping with homework, anything. Some days Pepper and Tony hire one of his aunts or uncles to watch Morgan while they take a day trip together. But Peter’s favorite moments are when both of his parents squish themselves onto his bed, give him long hugs, and tell him how much they love him before kissing his head and wishing him a good night.

But when it really solidifies in Peter’s mind that his parents love him is when he accepts his first-place trophy for the science fair and the first people jumping to their feet, screaming, are his parents.

Peter beams.

…

Send me prompts!

#my fic #peter parker #tony stark #morgan stark #pepper potts #spiderman #iron man #spiderson #irondad #spiderson fic #irondad fic #irondad and spiderson

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that-damn-girl · 5 years ago

Text

Boomerang

(Oneshot)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x (cis)female!reader

Words: 3000+

Type: Not exactly fluff, but not angst either. Smut. Happy ending.

Warnings: Smut ahead. It's not exactly cheating, but idk what exactly your definition of cheating is. So just warning. Happy ending though. Not proofread.

Summary: You only know what you had after you've lost it. Although it's been two years since you've broken up, you can't forget about Sam.

A/N: This is in answer to a request by the wonderful @princessmisery666 . The song prompt requested was 'Boomerang' by Mic Lowry. Honey, my writing isn't as good as you, but I hope you like it.

I know why you're calling me

'Cause he can't love you like you want him to

You know I hit it properly

But nobody do it like me and you

"So," You started, feeling a bit awkward, playing with your bracelet as you sat stiffly, "How's life?"

You had bumped into Sam in the streets of New York City, purely coincidentally. You were on the way to your apartment from the store, hands filled with snacks as your dinner, when you bumped into Sam. He was walking over from the other direction, fully concentrated on typing furiously in his phone to notice anything else.

You didn't mean to start a conversation with your ex from two years ago, but after seeing him out of the blue you couldn't keep yourself from loudly gasping, 'Oh my god, Sam?' He had looked taken aback at the sudden outburst of his name; and at seeing you too. He had a baseball cap and a pair of reflectors on; in a 'disguise', in hopes that nobody would recognise the new Captain America.

Although you felt awkward, you didn't want things to be so. You didn't want to let him know that you were still hung up on him while in another relationship.

As you made small conversation, he asked you if you were free to have dinner, just to catch up. You didn't want to say yes, but you did thinking it would be better than whatever junk you initially intended to munch upon. Moreover, it was just to catch up, right?

Right?

It's funny how everything changes, but still remains the same

Something like a boomerang, you're coming 'round my way

'Cause I've been hearing all these rumors

That you've been seeing someone new

You went to a pizza place nearby. You seemed to have run out of topics when you asked that question.

Sam smiled. Well, he always either smiled or smirked, "It's been a little stressful lately." He shrugged, "But life always is. You say." He did that cute little head tilt of his.

You didn't want to drown in him, in the memories he brought back with himself, but you did. If he noticed yourself looking at him with a distant gaze, he didn't comment.

"Well, my boss is the same piece of shit she's always been. My rent got increased with no promotion in sight. Same old, same old. How's Bucky?"

"Oh, he's doing much better than the last you saw him, actually. My man is killin' it. He is much more open now. The nightmares are very rare now. From what I hear, his therapy's going great. Also, remember Sharon? Yeah, Bucky and her are kind of a thing now." Sam said, leaning forward and keeping his hands criss-crossed on the table, which bulged out his biceps.

"Oh," you said, taking a moment to think but having a hard time imagining Bucky and Sharon as a couple; and also trying to get the flashing memories of his hands from around you out of your head, "Really? Wouldn't have guessed those two."

"Yeah, it was a shocker for me too! But they are just at the start of it, so let's see how it actually goes." Sam shrugged, "Enough of him, though. Tell me about your man." Sam didn't miss the way your smile faltered just for a second.

But you addicted to my addiction

It's time for you to stay away, away

So call the medical, can get a little dose

I got an antidote for that body

We're compatible, ain't no need to take it slow

You knew you had gotten in your current relationship with Jason as a way to get over Sam, because you couldn't get the thoughts of him out of your mind even after a year of breaking up with him. Now nearly reaching your first year anniversary, you still couldn't.

You knew you should've felt guilty for misleading Jason, but you somehow didn't. The year you had spent with him made you realise that the two of you never had a connection as deep as you and Sam did in the six months you were together.

Moreover, it didn't even feel like Jason was actually trying. That night was supposed to be a date night. As you were nearly ready, dressed to the nines and eagerly awaiting the forthcoming hours, for the third time in a row Jason had cancelled. He had had made plans with his work friends which he had forgotten about. As his boss was included too, he couldn't ditch them last minute. That is why you had planned on munching all the junk available you could get your hands on and dwell in your sorrows.

You understood. You always did.

Things like this only prompted your subconscious brain to point out the vast differences between him and Sam. You had gotten with him not long after he had to handle Captain America's mantle. The first few weeks had been extremely stressful for Sam, yet that didn't deter him from being the ever dotting boyfriend to you. Plans were hardly ever cancelled, and when they were, the newer ones were worth wait.

"Jason," You looked around, not daring to hold eye contact with Sam, "He's a great guy." Yet, Sam easily caught onto your bluff. He didn't say anything though, sparring you the embarrassment.

Truth be told, he was internally satisfied to know that your current wasn't as good as him, but he hid that well. Despite it he wasn't happy. How could he, when you weren't.

You talked about Jason, exaggerating his goodness. It felt like you were trying to make yourself believe that indeed he was as good as you said. Moving on from him, you asked Sam if he had gotten someone in his life.

Sam dipped his head, suddenly finding the napkin on his lap extraordinarily interesting, "There's been no one but you, Y/N." As he looked up, you couldn't help but let your breath hitch as his eyes bore into yours. He put on a smile which couldn't mask the seriousness and melancholy behind his words which you knew in an instant they were nothing if not true.

"Sam..." You started, but the phone ringing, flashing your best friend's name saved you from having to reply to the mind boggling discovery.

I know, I know, I know

I know why you're calling me

'Cause he can't love you like you want him to

You know I hit it properly

But nobody do it like me and you

I know what you need, girl, you know this also

As your call had ended, Sam brought up discussions from the pop culture and you two fell back into conversation, the earlier revelation being completely ignored. Soon your meal was over. As you the stepped onto the sidewalk, Sam insisted that he walked you home. You didn't think it was a good idea, but Sam claimed that it was rather late and he couldn't relax until he made sure you were safe and sound in your house. So you agreed.

The conversation was light, as before. None dared to jump into the talks of feelings, not trusting themselves keep their hands to themselves.

When you reached your building, 'It was good to meet you after so long's were said and goodbyes were exchanged. As Sam saw you climb up the stairs to the front door, walking away from him yet again, he couldn't bear the pain of letting you go so soon; of not being the one to hold you close in your lows; of not trying; of not telling you the one thing which had been on his mind the entire night and regretting it later.

He climbed up to you in two long strides, skipping a few steps in between. Just as you were about to open the gate, he turned you around, and clashed his lips with yours. Shocked by the suddenness, you pressed you lips to harder. They were sweet and plump, just as you remembered.

I'll leave the key up under the door

So you can come on, get on top of me

So I can fuck you like you want me to, like you want me to

I'm told you want it

Girl, like you want me, too

I'm told you want it

He immediately pulled back only a second later. His hands cupped your face as his forehead leaned against yours. "Baby girl," That nickname, that damn nickname, "I love you still, so fucking much. Know that I've waited for you, and I'll always wait for you."

Not giving you anytime to think about it, he climbed down the steps and walked away into the shadows of the night. You stared at his retreating figure dumbfounded, your own heart beats loud and clear in your ear, making you doubt when what happened was actually true or was it just one of your daydreams .

~~~

Sweet yet powerful, that's how the memories you carried of being with Sam were. You'd never had had to think about putting effort into your relationship as things things escalated; how you'd seemed to know what other needed when, the trust into each other, the support for each other, the understanding; everything had come naturally.

Your relationship had ended only because of your fear of being close anyone.

You hadn't known you'd fall for Sam as deep and hard as you did. 'I love you's were said. You were happy. When he asked you to move in with him, you weren't.

Commuting to and fro from work to you was a work in itself. Sam knew you wouldn't like the idea because of how scared you were if your own feelings, so he never raised the question. However, it slipped past his lips on the night of your six month anniversary, after a nerve wrecking session in bed. Perhaps he really had wrecked his nerves between his brain and mouth when those words left his lips despite knowing better.

Overwhelmed at the fast pace of everything going in and around you, you immediately left his home. You were scared like all good things, this was just a dream; that he would leave you as soon as you allowed him to breakdown that last layer of boundary you had protected yourself behind all your life.

You figured, getting your heart broken then was better than later.

He gives you that basic kinda loving, now all you do is complain

(I bet the neighbors don't know his name)

You know I got that boomerang (boomerang) so I come through late, oh oh oh oh

So shout me when you coming through, right

You ain't gotta tell me what to do tonight

As you sat across Jason the next day, eating the dinner which was initially planed to be had a day before, you couldn't get Sam out of your mind. Though you yourself loved him still, it was hard for you to accept that after the bizarre note on which you ended things, he still loved you to this day.

You moved your food around the plate, your mind working overtime enough to kill any appetite.

You looked up at Jason, animatedly telling you about his week at work, without having yet asking about yours. Sam never did that, your brain said. No matter what, he always loved hearing you talk about your days, not caring how shitty or monotonous they were. He also loved talking about his, excitedly gushing about the love and support he recieved and carefully leaving out the gruesome details of the missions he went on. He was Captain freaking America, yet he never made you feel any less.

You're addicted to my addiction

It's time for you to stay away, away, yeah

So call the medical, can get a little dose

I got an antidote for that body

We're compatible, ain't no need to take it slow

Work had always been important for Jason. For many it is. It was important for you as well. It was important for Sam too, yet you were always his top priority. Albeit not before saving the world at last minute notifications, but in a way you were his world too.

As Jason kept on and on talking about himself and only himself, you couldn't help but cherish how Sam had been anything but self centred. He was selfless almost to a fault.

You sat there, staring at the face of one man but thinking of another. As your brain pointed out the differences between the two one after the other, something in your brain clicked.

You grabbed his hand at once, not giving any second thought to what you said and what you did, "Jason," When he got your attention, you said, "I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, but it's over."

Jason gaped at you open mouthed, flabbergasted at how out of the blue it was, "I- what- Y/N?"

He watched you stand up and put a few bills down on the table. Before leaving, you turned to him and said, "It's okay, I won't miss you."

You left in a hurry. On the sidewalks you hailed a cab and gave the directions to Sam's place.

I know, I know, I know

I know why you're calling me

'Cause he can't love you like you want him to

You know I hit it properly

But nobody do it like me and you

I know what you need, girl, you know this also

I'll leave the key up under the door

So you can come on, get on top of me

So I can fuck you like you want me to, like you want me to

I'm told you want it

Girl, like you want me to

I'm told you want it

You chewed your lips as stared out the window. You should've known that you wouldn't have been able to stay away from him; that you were bound to return to him, like a boomerang.

You felt like a bitch, and not in a good way. Though your feelings hadn't lessened, you realised what a fool you were in leaving Sam only after being with Jason. It wasn't ideal and you weren't the most proud person around, but the heart wants what it wants.

As soon as the cab stopped, you paid and hurried to Sam's door. Pressing the doorbell, you only wished he didn't have any plans for the evening. When he didn't answer the door right away, your anxiety started gnawing at you.

What were you thinking? Of , course he'd have plans on a Saturday night. He's Captain America, for heaven's sake. Of fucking course he'd be busy. It was so stupid of you -

"Y/N?" Sam gasped. Not in his wildest dreams had he thought that he'd find you on his porch, deranged like you were. He didn't even think you'd come back to him after the stunt he pulled the previous night.

This time round, you gave him no time to ponder as holding his neck you brought him down and kissed his lips with all the strength you could muster. After getting over the initial shock, Sam picked you up by your waist in a second and you gladly wrapped your legs around him. He closed the door and pushed you against it.

You pulled back, clutching his face softly, "Sam, Sam, I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry." He put you down, cupping your tear stained face. He tried to stop you, but you continued, "I shouldn't have had left you. I was just so scared, Sam. I thought you would've left me eventually." You paused, taking a deep breath, "I love you Sam, so fucking much."

Sam hugged you close, petting your head, whispering sooth calming words. You said still, "I broke up with him. I'm sorry I didn't realise it sooner. Please, have me back Sam...I understand if you're upset with me, and you got every right -"

Sam shut you up with his lips, which unhurriedly moved against yours, warming up your heart and soul, "Baby," He breathed against you, "You don't gotta be sorry about anything," He moved to your ears, whispering, "I love you, honey. So glad you're back."

He descended to take your lips in his once again, biting them ever so softly. Licking and sucking your lips as if it were the last time he'd kiss you, Sam picked you up and carried you to his bed, on which he dropped you down unceremoniously before caging you between him and his bed.

Now I got your head up in the pillow

Girl, you can't say nothing, can't say nothing

I'ma have you here like a boomerang

Make you wanna say something, wanna say something

His arms went under your shirt, lifting it, drawing his hands up and down your sides. Littering you neck with kisses, he raised your shirt over your head. Your own hands moved to his back beneath his shirt. He removed his own, and soon, the both of you undressed completely.

When his mouth went back on yours, his skin moved against yours, sating the need to be close to him. His hand went down lower, messaging your clit with his calloused fingers. You let out a moan as the electric pulses raced down your nerves.

You drifted lower to the skin beneath his ear right above his pulsing vein, sucking and nipping at it. Sam moaned sinfully in your ear, relocating his fingers in your channel and slowly easing into it. The heel of his palm worked magic on your clit while his fingers leisurely yet steadily brought you cleaser.

Panting, you said, "S-Sam, I need you."

"Baby girl..." Sam whispered, increasing his pace.

"I need you right now. Please, Sam," You whimpered, unable to control yourself as your back arched.

"You sure, honey?" Sam asked. As soon as you voiced out your confirmation, he took his hard length in his hand and stroked it before placing it near your entrance. He slid it up and down your slit, teasing you nub everytime he touched it.

Fixing his length in front of your entrance, Sam groaned as he pushed inside, "Ah, baby girl."

You whimpered, surprised by the stretch but welcomed it with open arms. Your walls clutched his member hard, letting you feel every protruding vein pulsing inside you. Not wanting to wait any longer, you gripped his ass, pushing him further inside you and urging him to move.

He started out slow, taking his time, enjoy the feel of you around snugly around him, leisurely soothing the want you both had. After a handful of strokes though, he couldn't contain himself. He hadn't touched in so long, hadn't felt you in so fucking long. He needed to like a starved needed food.

Balancing his weight on his arms, he thrust inside you again and again without any restrain. You moaned loudly as his bulbous head hit your g-spot at the new angle. He railed you into the bed, grunts escape every so often, charging you up even more.

He kissed sucked the skin of your neck, marking you, laying his claim on you. The meaty and veiny member of his soothed the need of friction inside you.

"Sam..." You squeezed his ass, moaning his name repeatedly. He in turn moaned into you ear you good you took him, how good your velvety walls felt around him. Sensing him nearing his climax, he rubbed you bundle of nerves expertly with his fingers.

"Cum for me, baby girl," You closed your eyes and arched your back, letting out a silent scream as white hot pleasure ran through your veins when you came. Feeling your walls clench around him, he couldn't help himself as his face contorted into pleasure; his pace faltering as he released himself in you.

His head fell down in the crook of your neck, splaying gentle kisses around every surface he could reach. With the promise of more beautiful times, he tucked you in his arms as he rolled onto his side and the both of went into a peaceful slumber.

~~~

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a-stitch-in-time-and-space · 5 years ago

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You ask for prompts and I'm here again to seek new content to read: 3. How often do/can they see each other (due to living on different planets, having stressful jobs, etc) with Gashir (/Garakshir) 🤩🤩

Eyyyyy. I am just gonna… casually fold into this… a little trans-Bashir as a treat…. because it’s trans day of visibility!!! Also I hc Cardassians as intersex, in the sense of they as a species don’t call themselves intersex, but their genders are far more loosely determined at birth, because there’s not really sexual dimorphism (or rather, there is, but it’s so many different factors that it’s not classified) and then gendering comes later in life depending on what role they’re supposed to play in society ahem – different post to make!

Also Garak has a tail in this, also casually.. also this got longer than intended… oops?

—– Letter Analysis ——

Their lives have a sort of normality that many families in this day and age exist with. Space travel, careers that necessitate being off-planet for long stretches at a time, the struggles of being a representative for entire planets or systems, all of this isn’t out of the ordinary.

Still, it takes them a little while to adjust, if only because they spent so long not getting it together that now that they have, well, they want to savour it. On the flip-side their relationship functions much better than so many who enter into partnerships of some kind without fully considering the difficulties of spending so much time apart and inevitably crumble.

Because of all that time they know, without a doubt, that their lives are entwined for good, regardless of how much of it they spend without one another’s physical company.

They fall into letter-writing naturally. After all, they had been doing the same before, why stop now.

It has become something of a competition at this point: who can write the longest letter. Thus far, Julian is winning and Elim is still in the process of reading his when they see one another again. He pretends to be blasé about it, but Julian can read him easily these days. He wonders at the time when he couldn’t and can’t really picture it.

While Elim is giving him a back-handed compliment at the way he’s managed to fold three words worth of content into whole paragraphs, Julian realises that he’s never known anyone as well as he knows Elim. And every detail of himself is known in turn. From the scars of his chest surgery that he purposefully kept, to the ridges at the base of Elim’s tail, it feels like everything about them was perfectly made for the other.

It’s strange, how many tiny moments are filled with love, they both learn.

(After Elim sends him a letter of 3000 pages, Julian simply answers: You win).

They consider what it would be like to have a family with the way their lives are run. Elim generally lives on Cardassia unless his diplomatic duties take him elsewhere, while Julian is hopping from emergency to medical find to distress call to conference.

Still, they approach the matter on the premise that it will happen. Their letters during these years follow a trajectory of thought with little variation, as they can’t actually be together for the discussion.

They discuss pregnancy – both of them are capable of bearing a child, but the time needed (nine earth months for humans, even longer for cardassians) makes it a challenging prospect. Moreover Julian and Elim, each for their own reason, have issues with concepts surrounding an uncontrollable force fundamentally changing their bodies.

It doesn’t take them long to agree that adoption was always the only option. Still there’s the matter of their careers being incompatible with children. Neither of them wants to put a child in harm’s way and both of their careers contain elements of danger. I believe, writes Elim drily and with an underlying sadness that Julian wishes he could heal, that this sixth assassination attempt may contain a sign that a child would not be particularly safe in my company.

The way this resolves itself is oddly perfect for what they need and who they are and comes through both of their continued work with mixed-species war-orphans, who more often than not are homeless, ostrasized and suffering from any number of easily treatable diseases. Garak opens a series of institutions in the name of Ziyal and habitually lends a hand in their various gardens where he befriends a number of the kids.

This plan also works to ground a lot of Julian’s focus in the space of mixed-species research, specifically writing papers on the future of the galaxy needing to see species integration for the sake of these kids as an inevitability as cultures mix and to understand the medical and cultural implications thereof.

Kira and Ro get heavily involved on the Bajoran side of things – in general a bunch of adults from DS9 days come together to give kids a better chance than they had.

Beyond that though, they come to realise that they’re okay on family. With these kids – many of whom they get to know personally over the years – with Molly and Yoshi O'Brien and Rebecca Sisko getting older and the two of them functioning as uncles, there’s more than enough for them to be getting on with on the children front: Elim and I were very happy to see you all again – Don’t worry, I’ll keep Yoshi safe – we’ll be making a stop at Bajor where Nerys is very excited to see him again –

Their circle is actually a sizeable, cross-galaxy household. They come to realise that it doesn’t matter if your family is someone you can’t see often, what matters is they’re all inhabiting the same space.

They don’t argue often. With the lack of time they have together, what would be the point of raising petty squabbles. There are things like the time Julian forgot about a very important dinner that Elim was a guest of honour at, which opened up a box of the kind of loneliness Elim thought he’d overcome, but it wasn’t about anger or arguing, it was about the two of them figuring out that sometimes this not seeing one another was actually damned hard. It was about asking for forgiveness and receiving it even before the asking. It was about making sure that they wouldn’t let things ever be unsaid, because their time together – comparative to their whole lives – was always going to be so short.

The actual worst long-standing consequence is that Elim and Julian are political celebrities, and so whatever tabloid-equivalent exists publishes one thousand pieces on their apparently irreconcilable relationship. Julian finds himself referred to as everything from a “heartthrob who found he needed more,” to “a cheater who habitually has several affairs at once.”

It’s amazing, remarks Elim in his latest letter, how these kinds of spurious articles are written even today, and how they still don’t seem to know the facts. On that note I hope you have a wonderful time with Data, and Parmak sends his love from my lap - it’s making it very hard to write this.

They’re both twenty years older by now, but things aren’t slowing down with their work by the looks of things. Julian’s work centres more and more on the various groups whose medical needs are considered less valid or even non-medical, because of their social status and who often have medical issues of kinds that don’t come up in normative societies – mixed-species, augments, A.I. (for awhile his standing suffers, when he argues that mechanical needs for A.I. ought to be taught in Starfleet Medical), non-bipedal species, Ex-B’s, Jem'Hadar, clones.

Elim keeps his Carrington Award on the wall for everyone to see. Partly to mess with him – To The Prestigious Winner of the CA – many of his letters begin for several years after, but mostly out of pride.

(In return and with as much love, Julian addresses him as Ambassador and Castellan – the joke evolves as they find ever more flowery titles for one another. Julian wins this one: My Dearest, the Ambassador to the United Federation of planets, Castellan of the Cardassian Union, Blusher when Being Whispered Compliments about the Length of Your Tail, Not-So-Secret Reader of Austen and Pratchett, Seducer of Doctors (No Doubt Currently Spluttering in Denial), Possessor of Biteable Ridges (Blushing Again, I Hope) and of My Heart… this opening continues a further four pages. The letter itself reads: I expect to land on Cardassia within the next three days. Surprise.)

At the end of it all, Julian finally comes to Cardassia for good. Along the way it’s become his home more than any planet, station, starship, or system, for the simple fact that he’s been returning to Elim, and Elim is home.

There’s a strangeness to all the time they have. The walks they take, the languid mornings, the discussions of books they’ve read whilst in each other’s company, it’s all far more surreal than the years spent wanting to see one another again and catching whatever moments they could.

They can’t shake the habit of writing one another letters, even as they’re sitting in the same room. They don’t need to be long or well-formed any more, although occasionally silly competitions spring up, just for fun.

The one Julian’s reading right now, as Elim’s tail languidly curls around his waist, simply says: I am glad that you’re finally home – E

–— The End ——

Submissions for drabbles are now closed, thank you for sending me asks!

#Julian Bashir #Elim Garak #Garashir #ds9 #st: ds9 #star trek #fanfic #writing

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mr-starkerbutgay · 5 years ago

Text

This is the writing I did for @starker-valentines. @lokitonypeter asked for Tony thinking Peter forgot Valentine's Day but Peter didn't and their second prompt was Peter proposing to Tony. I sorta mixed them both for them.

------

Is Tony upset his Peter forgot about Valentine’s Day? No. Why? Well first off Tony doesn’t really care much for Valentine’s Day in the first place, second, Peter tends to forget small holidays like this. Last year he forgot Easter was a thing. So basically Tony really had no reason to be upset with his love.

The thing that did bother him though is that he hasn’t seen Peter anywhere at the college campus. This is very strange because they had an art class this morning and a math class but Peter never showed up for either. Now it was late in the day and starting to get dark which makes Tony think that maybe Peter is sick? He hasn’t sent any text to Tony letting him know. Also, Tony made plans for them to Netflix and chill after their long day.

That’s the only thing that truly worries Tony, is the lack of communication between Peter and him today.

As he walks around the campus he grabs a quick smoothie. He would’ve gotten one for Peter too if he were here right now, but he’s not. Tony continues to walk until he sees one of Peter’s friends, Ned. he runs up to him, smoothie splashing around in its cup in his hand, and he calls out to Ned.

“Dude, have you see Peter at all today? He hasn’t called me or texted me and I’m getting slightly worried about him”, Tony asks Ned in a rush. He glances down at Ned’s hand and notices all the textbooks that he’s carrying. It’s ridiculous for Ned to even be walking with so many books in his hands.

“Oh, Peter? No haven’t seen hiMMM-”, Ned somehow manages to trip over his own feet and fall to the ground. Tony tried to help catch him but was too slow. All of Ned’s papers and books fly to the ground and display themselves in a scattered matter. Tony stretches his hand out for Ned and he gladly takes the offer for help.

“Here, I’ll help ya with this mess.” Tony and Ned both lean down and start grabbing everything. They pick up new worksheets, old worksheets, new textbooks, very old textbooks that are probably older than him. Then Tony picks up a book that doesn’t seem like it belongs int the pile. The cover shows the big green lady, better known as the Statue of Liberty.

“What class is this for? You don’t like learning about statues and boring history.” Tony smiles at the other kid and hands him the book. Ned thanks him and takes it, this time pushing all of his mess into his backpack instead of keeping it in his arms.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just wanted to get caught up on New York and such.” Ned looks over at Tony and shrugs his shoulders.

Tony grins and looks up at the sky, nodding his head, before looking back down at Ned. “This is like a really weird thing to just mention but did you know that Peter and I actually met at the Statue of Liberty? We were both of highschool class trips and somehow we both walked away from all the big crowds and managed to talk by a couple of trees near the water. I think we laughed and talked for hours if I’m honest with ya.”

“Dude, Peter used to never stop talking about you! Every day he always had something to say about you or weird facts about the statue. I couldn’t get him to stop!” Ned smiles at Tony but then a worried look crosses his face. “Oh no! I’m gonna be late for class! Sorry about not knowing where Peter is! Hope you have luck finding him.” After that Ned runs off, a backpack full of books and all.

Even though that conversation was good and it brought up lovely memories, Tony still is determined to find Peter. As he walks to his dorm he pulls his phone from his pocket and dials up Peter’s Aunt May. Aunt May immediately answers the phone with a cheery voice.

“Oh hey, Tony! Whatcha need kiddo?”, Aunt May asks nicely. Tony honest to god loves May. She reminds him so much of his mother and he loves his mother to the moon and back.

“Hey May I was just wondering if you’ve heard from Peter at all today. I haven’t been able to get ahold of him. It’s really starting to worry me.” Tony sees the stairs to his dorm and quickens his pace. He wants to check Peter’s room before assuming anything bad has happened to him. No need to start freaking out if Peter is just being an asshole playing video games in bed.

“No I sorry honey. I haven’t heard from him at all. Maybe he’s still getting ready.” Through the phone, May sounds like she’s walking around and that other people are in the room with her.

“What do you mean that he might be getting ready?” Tony doesn’t understand at all what that could mean. Is she saying that Peter might have slept in and is just now getting ready? Or is she implying something different?

“Oh it’s nothing dear. Nothing to worry about at least. He’d be ready by now. Knowing Peter, he’s never late.”

“But May he never showed up to class today. In any of them actually.”

“No not class, silly.” May giggles from the other side of the phone.

Tony finds it weird that she doesn’t go more in-depth with her strange guess but pushes it off because he doesn’t need any more confusion right now. Tony opens up the front door to the dorm building and begins to climb up the stairs. He says hi to a couple of his buddies like Rhodey and Steve who seem to be in rushes as they both run down the stairs. He continues to talk to May on the phone on his way to Peter’s floor, a feeling of hope coming to him.

“May what are you doing today? Sounds like there are a lot of people with you.” Tony asks curiously about all the noise in the background.

“My friend Amy is getting married soon and she wants me to help her plan the webbing.”

Tony lightly laughs a little, “Don’t you mean wedding, May? You said webbing, not wedding.” He gets to Peter’s room and knocks on the door.

“Yes, that’s what I meant. Sorry dear but I’m gonna have to get off the phone. Call me if you find Peter.” May hangs up leaving Tony with questions.

The door doesn’t open, making Tony worry more. He knocks again, this time harder than the first, thinking that maybe Peter just didn’t hear the first time. Again, no response. He knocks a third time but doesn’t stop until the door swings open to a very pissed off Flash, Peter’s roommate who’s a complete douchebag.

“What the heck do you want? It’s 7 o’clock already.” Flash whisper yells.

“Who sleeps at 7 pm on a Friday?”

Flash rolls his eye annoyingly and points behind him to his tv, “Who said I was sleeping. I’m playing Minecraft right now and you’re literally bothering my game time.”

Tony closes his eyes ad shakes his head. Who plays Minecraft on a Friday, Tony could never understand. Even Peter likes to play games on the weekends when they could be out partying like normal college students. Tony remembers why he’s here and ducks his head in the room. The room is too dark to see anything but the tv screen so he pushes past a protesting Flash and walks over to Peter’s bed.

The bed is neatly made like usual but a small sticky note lays on top of the pillow. Tony takes it and reads it to himself. Flash simply shakes his head and goes back to sitting way too close to his tv screen.

The note in Tony’s hand says, “Hey baby, I need you to meet me at the big torch.” Immediately he knows where to go, folds the note, and sticks it into his front pants pocket. He takes a glance at the other college student and walks out of the room, leaving the door open because he really doesn’t like this Flash guy. He can hear Flash cuss a little bit at him as he walks back down the steps he just walked up not too long ago.

Once he gets outside he touches a button on his wristband with his pointer finger and middle finger, which activates his suit (just assume that he made the suit as a college student). Now with his Iron-Man suit on he pushes off the ground and zooms through the sky. He dodges skyscrapers and hotels as his eyes make contact with the Statue of Liberty.

From a distance, he can make out a blue dot floating next to the statue. He quickly gets nearer to the dot and realizes its Peter who is laying right by a giant web. As he gets closer and can now see what the web says on it. As he read ‘Will You Marry Me?’ in big letters, his heart fills with so many emotions he can’t react.

“Anthony Edward Stark I know we are just in college and that we’ve only been dating for 3 years but will you make me incredibly happy and be my player 2 in the next levels of our life?” Peter swings down to the ground right in front of the massive web and gets on one knee, a giant smile on his face. A silver ring is in between his fingers.

With his suit, Tony lands in front of Peter, the suit going back to its original compartments. Shock covers his face as he stares up at the 4 words above him and then back down his nervous boyfriend.

“So? Will you join our 2 player game?” Peter patiently waits for Tony’s answer still scared he might say no. Tony’s face morphs from shock to a wide excitement. He quickly grabs Peter and picks him up, spinning them around in circles as tears fall from both of their eyes from too much emotion.

“Yes, yes 3000 times yes! I want to be with you for the rest of our lives!” He stops spinning them and his grin doesn’t dissaprear as he pulls Peter close to him. Their lips meet and thats when the fireworks Peter ordered go off. Tony pulls away and watches above him to see red, yellow, and blue fireworks of every shape and size. His lips meet Peter’s again this time with both of them laughing and crying.

“I love you so much, Tony. I’ve been planning this for the past couple of months and i just knew today had to be the day. I knew I would have to skip classes today so I had Ned ask my professors for all the notes.”

Tony thinks about it and how now that makes sense with why Ned had so many textbooks.

“Not to mention that he also had to get the Statue of Liberty in your head today. I bet you mentioned our first time meeting each other because every time someone brings up the statue you also start with that story. Now we have a new story to tell.” Peter smiles at Tony, proud of his smart planning.

“Wait, was your Aunt in on it too?” Tony’s eyes widen, now feeling dumb for not seeing all the subtle signs he’s received all day.

“Yeah, she knew you would call her so she made up a false story. She was actually with me all day which is who you heard over the phone.”

“Was your roommate part of the plan?” Tony cringes as he mentions Flash.

“No, I don’t think anyone told him.” Peter now has a confused look on his face, slightly curious why Tony asked.

“I went to your room and he was playing some video game. I just thought that might have been a clue to your proposal with the whole ‘Player 2’ thing, which by the way was so adorable.” Tony cups Peter’s cheek with his hand. They stare into each other’s eyes, both of them feeling blessed and comfortable.

“You know I love you, right?” Tony asks as he leans in close to Peter and pecking his lips and resting his forehead against Peter’s.

“Yes, and it’s the one thing I want for the rest of my life. I love you too Tony.” Peter presses his lips against Tony. The kiss is filled with passion and love, making it one of the best kisses they’ve ever had and their new favorite memory.

#StarkerXOXO-2020 #starker #spiderman #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #tonyxpeter #tony stark #peterxtony #iron man #peter parker #valentines day

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theincaprincess · 5 years ago

Text

Problems *part 15/maybe final*

Good afternoon my darlings, I have finally got all the prompts done for our darling @deepestfirefun writing challenge, Thank you for joining me on this adventure and once again thank you to Deep for being understanding with my combining prompts and not getting them out on time, but for being an awesome host, and I can't wait for the next one haha Main master list here

January challenge masterlist here

Forever tag list @amyf20 @blankdblank @deepestfirefun @moonfaery @catthefearless @meyoko10 @tolkienprincess @starlightintherain89 @southsidesarcasticwriter @fuer-immer-jetzt @fizzyxcustard @lady-of-lies @xxbyimm @miabee0706

Thranduil tag list @sdavid09 @nikolett3 @j25m18c24 @letsbeinspiredby @gwendelerynan @shanty-lol @tigereyesf @the-small-loki-wife

Hobbit/LOTR tag list @Slither-in-a-half

Catch up here

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Prompt 28 - song - Calum Scott - What I Miss Most

Prompt 29 - “It's broken,”

“Yes, I know it's broken! Why it is broken?”

“I don't ��t know,”

Prompt 30 - song - Sam Tinnesz - Far From Home (The Raven)

Prompt 31 - song - Heart of a Hero - Club Danger

Warnings - none

Word count 1,724

“It must have been a year since I was thrown across an ocean far from home, And I was making oceans, Riding in between the highs and lows”

Sitting on his horse Thranduil let his eyes roamed the landscape in front of him, the smell of flowers was all around him, but the landscape was bare, yet he felt a pulling towards the middle of it, climbing off his horse Thranduil followed the feeling, it felt warm and like when he was with you, the sun shone down and he was sure for a split second he thought he saw hut but as he blinked he saw the bare landscape as the sound of Legolas’s horse filled his ears making him turn and stare at his son.

“Did I just see a hut?” Legolas asked confused.

“I think I saw it too” Thranduil admitted as he watched Legolas climb down still staring at the place they were sure a hut was.

“Ooh, when I wake in the morning I, Ooh, it's the first on my mind”

Looking out of the window Isildur was silently wishing the King and Prince would get back on their horses and ride away, the magic on the hut was fading and he was doing everything in his power to keep the hut a secret, but the closer Thranduil got to you the more pull he had over you, making the spell faded faster than normal.

“Maybe what I miss most, It wasn't made of steel and stones, And maybe what I miss most, It wasn't born of skin and bone, Under the sun, up on the waves, Under three climbs when I'm far away, Maybe what I miss most”

The smell of flowers circled around Thranduil and Legolas, like a blanket on a cold night, Thranduil could feel you were close, he could sense you, but he just couldn’t see you and he started to grow angry.

….

Sitting on the bench listing to the water Lord Elrond lifted his head and slowly turned it away from his current book and watched the wolf coming to a stop, then a steady walk towards him before bowing his head and sitting down.

“What is the matter?” Lord Elrond asked after a few minutes, letting the wolf get its breath back.

“Isildur has sent me with an urgent message for you, Lord Elrond”

“Well then you better tell me, and tell me quickly” Lord Elrond spoke eyeing the wolf, already knowing what he was going to say due to his power of foresight.

“It's broken” the wolf said bowing his head.

“Yes, I know it's broken! Why it is broken?” Lord Elrond said as he rose to his feet making the wolf raise as well.

“I don't ́t know, the magic of your world is beyond me” the wolf said walking along with Elrond.

“I hope you can still run fast as we need to make haste” Lord Elrond said as the wolf watched him mount his fastest horse.

“I do not need rest, like your normal creatures” the wolf said as he turned and started to run back towards Mirkwood, with Lord Elrond behind him.

….

“I'm sending raven, Black bird in the sky, Sending a signal that I'm here, Some sign of life”

Opening your eyes you were in place you didn’t know, looking around you were in a cave like place there was hardly any light, but a small rock in the middle of the floor was being illuminated by a moonbeam, walking closely to the rock you saw a small gold ring sat on top of it with some strange markings on it, tilting your head to the side you felt you hand raising up as you reached for the ring feeling raw power.

“I'm sending a message, Of feathers and bone, Just let me know I'm not forgotten, Out here alone”

A dark shadow had started to descend on Mirkwood, an icy wind blew through the forest making everything in its path stop and shiver, turning their eyes to the sky to see the dark black clouds swallowing any light there was.

“The air is cold, The night is long, I feel like I might fade into the dawn, Fade until I'm gone”

Facing each other Thranduil and Legolas shared a look, Legolas had heard the stories of the ring of power and the great war his Father fought in, he never thought there would be a day where it would come back, but the power that was rushing through the forest they both knew it meant the ring of power had been found, but was it friend or foe they couldn't tell just yet.

“Oh, I'm so far from home, So far from home, Oh, Not where I belong, Not where I belong, Oh, I'm so far from home, So far from home”

Riding as fast as he could Lord Elrond saw the sky around Mirkwood growing darker and he felt a panic growing inside him, this was something he had not foreseen, he had foreseen Thranduil finding the hut with you inside, after the spell was broken, but the ring of power returning scared him, it still called Isildur and Elrond knew he was still under its power even after all these years, if he had it Elrond would have to kill his oldest friend to save Middle Earth falling into darkness again.

“I'm sending a raven, With blood on its wings, Hoping it reaches you in time, And you know what it means”

Isildur turned and saw you were still sleeping, moving about a lot but he felt the calling of the ring, losing his mind to the call, the spell he had over the hut dropped and Thranduil and Legolas saw it come into their vision, blinking a few times they rushed forward, not wanting it to disappear again.

Rushing to the door Legolas kicked it open as Thranduil step in after him, his eyes went wide at Isildur shielding your body with his sword pointed towards them.

“Cause out here in the darkness, And out of the light, If you get to me too late, Just know that I tried”

“Isildur?” Thranduil asked in barely a whisper, not sure his eyes were telling him the truth.

“Get away from her” Isildur hissed making Legolas notch an arrow in his bow and aimed it at him.

“Isildur, it’s me Thranduil, don’t you remember I was there with you 3000 years ago, how is this possible, you are meant to be dead” Thranduil said slowly hold his hands up and looking at Legolas sending him a look that told him to lower his bow.

Lowing his sword Isildur looked at you then to Thranduil, “She is special, I hope you know that, and I am sorry but I needed her” he said as he rose to his feet.

“For what?” A voice asked from behind them making them all turn and see Lord Elrond standing at the door.

“Through the night blind, And the dark days, My heart it never gets tired”

“For this” Isildur hissed opening your hand making the three elves flinch at the sight of the one ring in your palm, even the wolf backed away at seeing the ring of power.

“Bravery's, My instinct, To run into the face of the fire”

“Don’t Isildur, you couldn’t handle its power last time what makes you think you can handle it now?” Elrond snapped at his old friend.

Smirking a dark smile at them Isildur wet his lips “Because I have her.”

“She is not yours to claim” Thranduil hissed stepping forward, “She is my wife and will be returning home with me” he added with an icy glare.

“A sacrifice, To save a life, Oh oh, It's in my blood, Oh oh, I got the heart of a hero, Unbreakable, Unshakeable, Hero”

Reaching for the ring Legolas let his arrow fly, landing in Isildur arm, making him let out a scream of pain, that brought you back to reality, shooting up in the bed you looked at the scene in front of you, Isildur was on the floor whimpering in pain while Lord Elrond was in front of him with his hand over his forehead whispering in elvish, while Legolas notched a new arrow, turning your eyes they met Thranduil’s who looked at you with love but you saw fear in his eyes.

“Not holding back any longer, I'm stronger, I got the heart of a hero, The power's limitless, Inside of me”

Feeling a weight in your hand you turned your eyes down and stared at the ring in your palm, wetting your lips you asked in barely a whisper “is this what I think it is?”

“It is” Thranduil answered coming closer and sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapping his hand around yours, and slowly he pushed your hand close hiding the ring from all of their eyes.

“I feel the energy rising, I can overtake, Anything, Oh oh, Rushing through my veins, Oh oh”

“What am I meant to do?” You asked.

“You need to destroy it, for good this time” Lord Elrond said as he stood, over the sleeping form of Isildur, “You must go into the very heart of mount doom in Mordor and cast it back into the fires of once it came”

“How do I get there?” You asked seeing Thranduil shaking his head.

“I can take you, the ring does not affect me” The wolf spoke up, “I can have you there by tomorrow and back again by the next day.”

“Then it is sorted” Elrond said as he put a hand of Thranduil’s shoulder “We have a lot to talk about after this matter is dealt with, and I will go with them.”

“I don’t like it” Thranduil said as he rose to his feet and helped you up.

“I know you don’t but trust me it is for the best” Elrond said as he walked you out of the hut and helped you onto the wolf’s back, “We will see you in two days” He added as the wolf took off running while Elrond mounted his horse and followed you, leaving Thranduil and Legolas looking at each other both hoping this time the ring would be destroyed for good.

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wntrsnat · 5 years ago

Text

Trying | Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes

(psd by allscallie on deviantart)

- Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes

- Summary: For a first time, Natasha and Bucky are on the mission together. While searching for the files about HYDRA’s bases, they somehow manage to engage into the conversation about love.

- Warnings: None

- Word Count: 2.9k

- A/n: A fanfiction for @softhairbarnes‘ “I love you 3000″ writing challenge. My prompt will be in bold.

_______________

The air was heavy, filling a dirty basement of HYDRA’s base with an awful scent of chemicals and dust. They seemed to crawl into the lungs further and further with each breath, covering every little bone and area, making it almost impossible to breathe freely. It only seemed like that, in reality, those scents where causing nothing besides feeling of disgust.

Both ex-assassins were covered in cuts and blood from a barbarous fight. Their enemies had appeared right by the door as they were trying to break into the underground laboratory, located in the basement

The fight was brutal. They grabbed any weapons they could get their hands on: guns, knives, tear gas pellets and of course, Bucky’s metal arm, which Natasha had to admit he used rather gracefully along with other weapons.

The metal arm always was a flaw in his eyes; a reminder of winter soldier, a reminder of how many lives he has destroyed, how many sins he carries on his shoulders and how much blood he has spilled, but that ‘flaw’ still was helpful during missions, it was his main and most powerful weapon which always will be with him.

But this fact was not helping and would never help him emotionally.

Everyone in the team understood that. Everyone knew what he went through, but no one besides the Black Widow fully realized and felt every part of his story, and even though she and Bucky basically never talk, she partly knew what he felt after killing so many people, what it’s like to live with that thought and guilt which slowly destroyed you from inside. She has been through something like this too when she joined the SHIELD. After all, don’t forget that once she was the Russian spy and the assassin which has killed thousands of innocent people

“Barnes, mind stopping looking on the floor and helping me?” the redhead hissed out with unhidden annoyance in her raspy yet soft voice as she opened another cabinet in the desk with small glass bottles of colorful liquids (which were giving out that disgusting scent) on the top, in an attempt to find the file that they needed.

Male’s eyes quickly moved up on the Natasha as she called him out, by that bringing him back to reality.

With apologies, Bucky slowly made his way to her, asking what to do.

“Help with searching for the file which contains data about all HYDRA’s bases” she explained, still kneeling opposite the right part of the desk, pulling out yellow files from the last cabinet and reading each of them. “Go to the left part and search there” she said and glanced upon him, carefully studying his appearance before going back to work.

“I’m not sure that they would save such kind of information in the simple, unprotected cabinets” Bucky stated as he took a few steps forward to the left side of the desk, slightly bending over it and opening the first cabinet.

“I doubt that too”

“Then why are you searching there?”

“Keyword: doubt” Natasha told him and slightly shook her head, glancing over at Bucky once again to check if he started doing his part of the job. “I’m not hundred percent sure and even if I was, we would check everything anyway she explained and watched how he opened one of the yellow files before searching through its papers with a cold, almost blank facial expression. It was a little bit hard for him to read all those things. They reminded him of the past, all the terrible things they forced him to do, dark laboratories in which they were wiping him over and over again, the physical and mental pain which he had to experience and accept.

“S-so, what do all those files contain overall?” He asked her, slightly stuttering as he did not move his gaze from the file. He wanted to know if all files would give him that feeling. Natasha had been searching and reading them for a long time already, so he was sure she knew the answer to the question.

“Mostly they are about laboratories, chemicals, and experiments that they have done with them, but I still hope that there will be at least a little information about bases” she answered and pulled out few of them from the cabinet “For example, this one is about…” she paused as she quickly opened a file to read papers and finish the sentence “About a now closed laboratory in South Carolina”

“South Carolina? Never been there but I’m sure it is a beautiful place” Barnes suddenly said in an attempt to keep talking and distract himself from thoughts about the past which kept floating up in his head more and more as he read papers.

The redhead got a bit ...when her teammate continued to talk in such a casual manner, unrelated to their work. But they were doing a simple task that didn't require much focus, so she didn't mind. Even if she wasn't the most open or talkative person.

“Once, I have been there on a mission. That’s why that laboratory is closed now” she said with the corners of her lips curving into slight smirk at memory of the mission “it was indeed a very beautiful place but unfortunately I did not have time to go on the beach and fully experience its beauty” she said “as they say – зло некогда не спит (evil never sleeps), so I always have to be on guard, no time to relax” she said and put the file back in its place.

“So, you don’t have any day off?” he continued the talk, matching his own tone to hers.

“Nope. No day offs”

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal” Bucky joked while still doing his work, without even suspecting that Natasha’s gaze was on him the whole time when they were talking.

“Darling, I’m the definition of illegal by itself” she teased back and drew her lower lip between her teeth with the smirk still present on her face.

A small but genuine laugh escaped from his fine, pink lips, leaving a light trace of a smile for the first time in a while.

Seems like talking with her to get distracted from the dark thoughts worked. He would even say – more than worked. He did not expect to enjoy the talk that much.

“Oh, are you?” he continued teasing, refusing to give up “Because you seem pretty innocent to me,” Bucky said, turning his head to her direction with a small devilish smile playing on his lips as he caught her biting her lower lip with a smirk.

“Innocent?” repeated Natasha, raising her eyebrows “Since when is knocking out five men in three minutes – innocence?!” she asked as if she was offended.

“I don’t know. Maybe you knocked them out, out of love?” Bucky said with his tongue running over his lips. Of course, he did not mean what he said. He perfectly remembered how Natasha fought, how violent, fast but graceful and smooth her moves were. He felt like he was fighting alongside her his whole life even though this was their first mission together. He was not surprised that Natasha was great like this, Steve had told him a lot about her, what an amazing fighter and person she was.

“Love? Love is just a pretty lie” she said, meaning it even though her tone did not change.

“Well, I will have to disagree with you there, Ms. Romanoff” Bucky told her, a bit surprised when he understood that Natasha really meant it “Love is a quite real thing” he said, looking into her emerald green eyes for a few seconds before moving his own gaze to the files but still waiting for any kind of answer from her.

“Hmm… I’m not surprised that you disagree, Mr. Barnes” Natasha told, knowing that most of the people believe in it “But I’d be glad to hear what love is in your opinion” she suddenly said without thinking, by surprising not only Bucky but also herself.

“Well… love” he started, glancing down on Natasha before opening the second cabinet “Love is something that we usually believe in by default without acknowledging it,” he said, trying to find the right words “But we know the true taste of love once we fall for someone. Even the word is as magical and mysterious as the feeling by itself: passionate, deep, fiery but yet calming and full of warmth, as if it is a blanket which covers you during cold days but surrounds with care and affection, throws a shade on your past, helps you to accept yourself and deal with inner demons” Bucky said, his voice became softer and softer with each word. He remembered perfectly what it was like to be in love and be loved. After all, he had quite a colorful life before fell down from the train to darkness “trust me on this one: The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return”

“No” Natasha snapped looking upon the male and gently closing the cabinet “Maybe it feels great but in the end they always hurt you” she said and recalled a memory with Bruce Banner in her mind as she stood up “You slowly fall for them, give them little pieces of yourself, show them that you care and love and they seem to return the same feelings but then later they crush your heart in the nastiest, worst way, leaving you alone to fix it by yourself”

“Then they were not right for you” Bucky snapped back, glaring at Nat, his eyes burned with confidence in what he said “The one who truly loves you would never leave you” he said and returned his gaze on files “If they ended things then there was no true love, and it is better to be with a broken heart than in one-sided relationships”

The widow clenched jaw after inhaling the air. She knew there was a piece of truth in his words but from another side – he did not know all ‘events’ that convinced her into this.

“Nothing is eternal, including love,” Natasha said and turned her head to the side to avoid looking on him. Her voice was calm but with a mix of slight coldness “So, why should you let yourself fall for someone if at the end they hurt you anyway?” she asked rhetorically, keeping her gaze away from him.

“and what if they don’t hurt you? What if they promise to never leave and love forever?”

“The promises are nothing but empty, meaningless words thrown into the air”

“They are not”

“They always break them. Don’t lie, Barnes, you have done that too – promised a girl love and happy life together but dumped her on the next day. I have heard that you were ladies’ man back in the forties” she said, mentally slapping him with those words without even moving a single muscle on her face.

His eyebrows snapped together as soon as those words reached his ears. Yes, he was a ladies’ man, a bit of a player, he’d been on numerous amount of dates with different girls, not to even mention his one night stands, but he was always honest and treated women with respect. He was a man of his word, always completing what he has promised, so he would never use such a dirty way of flirting and getting a girl. To say more, he has been only in few relationships, and he never promised them anything if he was not sure in his ability to complete it.

“I’m not one of those men and never was” Bucky stated, referring to empty promises “No man should do such a thing to a woman,” he said and took a few steps forward to the redhead.

With each step the tension between them was growing. It was either because of Natasha’s cold attitude or slight offense which he faced after her words… or both. It was surprising how joyful talk so quickly turned into this mess which was hard to label.

“And if someone did that to you” he started again, figuring out that Natasha might have gone through tough relationships in the past. After all, she must have a reason to think like that “If you went through empty promises and heartbreak, then they are not worth it” he said, gently sliding his flesh index finger under her chin to move her head to face him once again “But if you never experienced relationships, then it is worth to give a shot for the first time and try” he said, moving away his fingers from her chin and crossing arms as Natasha’s gaze remained cold.

“No,” she told him, still being stubborn about her opinion. She did not want to accept the truth. It was hard. Maybe she got rid of Red Room but the beliefs with which they raised her, stayed with her.

‘You are one of the black widows. You are not supposed to feel love,’ ‘Love is for weak, and you must be strong– old voices echoed through her head, reminding her of the true reason why she did not believe in it, and the reason she later got stronger instead of got destroyed by previously mentioned ‘ex’

“Why?” he asked as he took a few steps towards her, not understanding what or why he was doing that but he knew that he wanted to change her opinion.

“Love is a lie. Love is for children” she repeated once again, finally looking into his eyes, not bothering to take step away

“But deep down, we all are children, are we not?” Bucky told her with his arms still crossed and pressed against his chest “All of us need a bit of affection in our lives”

“Not me”

“How do you know that?”

“Never had a desire” a small lie left her mouth. Of course she had such wish a few times in her lifetime but each of them ended badly.

“I don’t believe you” the soldier said without hesitation, getting closer and closer to Natasha “You can’t tell me you never wanted to even kiss someone” he said, taking a deep breath in “to feel their lips on yours and melt under their touch” he continued, not planning to stop yet “Even if you did not love them. Just wanted to kiss them”

”No. Never”

“Liar” he said almost instantly, getting closer and closer to her, not knowing even by himself what intentions he had, but one thing was for sure - they both forgot about files “You just don’t let yourself feel it”

“What about you, James?” she asked and took step towards him as well. Now they were a few centimeters away from standing chest to chest “You say that I don’t let myself feel such things but you are doing same since returned, are you not?”

Bucky did not answer.

“I was always acting like that towards romances but you…” she started but never finished the sentence. The words faded into the silence which fell between them.

It did not last long. Bucky broke it soon enough.

“The main difference is – I don’t mind trying”

“Then why don’t you try?”

“You are not going to give up, are you?”

“No”

Her words left him wordless. He did not know what to say to break her. She was stubborn but so was he. Neither of them wanted to give up nor leave without a fight. After all, both of them were soldiers - they were taught to fight until the last drop of blood.

His eyes slowly travelled down to her lips as he stood there for a few more seconds, doubting his actions. She was right, he stopped himself from even thinking about it since he returned. He did not want to hurt someone physically (with the metal arm) or mentally (with his own mental state) but now it was a whole different type of situation.

The soldier took a step closer to her, closing the gap between their bodies. He could feel her hot breath against his skin, he could feel how tense she was, he could feel the coldness in her…

“What are you doing?” She asked carefully with a whisper as she tried not to touch him.

“Trying” He answered, pressing his lips against hers, tasting blood & dirt along with her strawberry-flavored lipstick as if winter soldier got in the perfect mix with his old days. His heart raced faster with each passing second as he parted her lips using his to slip his tongue inside her mouth and slowly take over the kiss before she could process the situation and act. He expected a push, a slap, a punch or a kick but neither of them happened. At first, he felt how her body tensed more but eventually started to relax. She did not try to break it, but she did not try to kiss him back yet. He was confused, he did not know what she thought and felt, did not know if she enjoyed or hated it... honestly, he did not know what he felt either. A few seconds passed, neither of them broke the kiss, none of them even tried to do it, instead, he felt how she kissed him back, blending two broken souls into one and shattering the wall of chaos around them. Neither of them understood why they kept kissing but it did not stop them anyway, they paused only when Bucky pulled away for a little bit, only to softly whisper something against her lips

“Never had a desire, huh?”

#natasha romanoff x bucky barnes #winterwidow #bucknat #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #winterwidow fanfic #bucknat fanfic #marvel fanfic #avengers fanfic #avengers #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #shb3000wc #my writing

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craby-bouquet · 6 years ago

Text

Interruption {CH}

~part 1 ~

Xu Minghao x Reader

Romance, Royal!AU

3000 words

check notes for masterlist and more parts

Prince Minghao woke up, getting his schedule read to him by Yodi, his butler. He listened in silence to his busy schedule that day, while getting dressed.

He had a meeting in half an hour about tax raises, a thing he wouldn't agree on; living in Voulux was expensive enough as it was. After that meeting he had about two hours to himself, two hours he would spend doing paperwork, before he had to get ready to go to the Voulux Fine Art exhibition where he was supposed to give a speech.

Voulux was one of the most respected countries of Pledis, maybe even the most respected. The whole world knew of its existence, mainly for its art. The old masters of Voulux had left quite the impression on the country, and even now the artist who lived here were outstanding.

Prince Minghao couldn't say he wasn't proud of his country. Expensive as it was to live here, Voulux had a good reputation. Wonderful art and a respected heir to the throne.

But, as the people said, with an example as the current king, it was impossible for the crown prince not to be perfect. The only thing missing was a great wife to guide the king to be.

It was a thing the advisors always turned to talk about at meetings. And, of course, this meeting was like every other;

“We have discussed the matter and your highness, we're of the opinion that tax raises are indeed necessary.” Mister Lee prompted, he didn't smile but Minghao could clearly see a smug look on his face.

Mister Chang made a noise indicating he thought that mister Lee’s idea wasn't very good “And why, Lee, do you think that is necessary? I don't see why a tax raise is in order.”

Lee sighed and turned to Chang “The money we get from it can go to other things. Important things like-”

At this mister Yin stood up “Like healthcare!”

Lee pointed at Yin and smiled “Like healthcare! Exactly Yin! And to police academies, the army and other important inquiries like that.”

Mister Tao chuckled softly “Last time I checked those departments got enough money to last a lifetime. We took care of those at the previous meeting.”

Prince Minghao turned his attention from the men to Yodi, who was taking notes from beside him. Minghao noticed him, Yodi, rolling his eyes whenever one of the men started talking about reasons why taxes should raise. It made Minghao chuckle.

Mister Lee turned to his prince “Your highness, please, what do you think?”

Minghao sat up straight, Intertwining the fingers of his hands while laying them on the table before him. He scanned the inquisitive faces from his advisors and sighed deeply “I agree with mister Tao on this. Last meeting we decided our tax money should go to those inquiries. I personally don't think tax raises would make sense this time.” He looked around the table at the nodding faces and stopped at mister Lee's face. He clearly didn't agree.

“Unless…” Minghao raised an eyebrow “You had something else in mind to spend the money on, mister Lee?”

Mister Lee bit his lip, eyes focused on Minghao’s chin rather than his eyes “Well… your highness I… I just thought we could use the money for, maybe, a wedding?”

Minghao had known the conversation was bound to go this way, it had done so over and over.

Minghao sighed and sat back in his chair “How generous I find your will to use our taxes for a wedding, I doubt it will be necessary. Seeing as there is no one I find worthy to wed.” Harsh as it may sound, it was the truth. Minghao hadn't fallen in love yet. They had gone over this last time as he had told them he would let them know as soon as he thought a wedding would be in order.

It seemed mister Lee wasn't sure what to do with his hands for a second “I am aware of that, your highness…” He looked Minghao in the eye again “You know, your highness, my daughter is a very eligible woman. I think you two would get along very well…”

Minghao made a mocking sound, though he hadn't meant to make it “I'm sure that is true mister Lee. I think she will make for a fine wife for a man who loves her.” He looked around again “As for me, I'm quite enjoying my title as third most eligible bachelor of the Pledis union.”

The men at the table didn't say a word.

Minghao stood up after a couple of minutes of silence “I think we've decided tax raises would be rather otiose. Let us keep them at the height they are now. Thank you for coming here today gentlemen, you are dismissed.”

Yodi stood up from beside him, bowed to the men and followed prince Minghao out of the room.

“The nerve.” Minghao mumbled, shaking his head as he was far from the room where the meeting had been. Those men didn't at all seem to know what they word respect meant. They didn't listen, they didn't seem to think straight. All they thought about were their daughters, their own well-being. And, of course, prince Minghao was sure those ladies were great and all but he wanted to wed someone more than great. Someone amazing.

Yodi chuckled “They sure don't know how annoying they are, huh? You've told them what? 67 times before that you're not getting married to someone random? And they still don't seem to get it. How they became advisors is a miracle to me.”

Prince Minghao wasn't sure if Yodi was talking to himself or to Minghao. But who ever it was, Minghao agreed with him. They either were to ignorant to understand that when the words “not” and anything close to “wedding” are in the same sentence it usually means there's not going to be a wedding. Or they were really stubborn and wanted to see the perfect crown prince annoyed. Whatever it was, prince Minghao hated it.

Yodi shook his head as they reached prince Minghao’s room “I will come pick you up in about,” he checked the pocket watch Minghao had given him for his birthday last month. A faint smile tugged on Minghao’s mouth at the thought that Yodi actually used it. “... One and a half hour, your highness. I know you plan on doing paperwork but please, don't overwork yourself, get some rest.” Yodi bowed before walking away.

Minghao had always liked having Yodi around. Ever since he had come round the castle had seemed… less lonely. Before that no one had really known Minghao, he had never let anyone in before Yodi. This meant that Yodi knew everything there was to know about the young prince and could read him like no other. Yodi often knew what Minghao was thinking even before Minghao knew himself.

Though it annoyed him, he had to finish his paperwork by the end of the week, he listened to Yodi and drew in his sketchbook instead of doing his paperwork. He didn't draw often, as crown prince he had way better things to do than drawing. Drawing wasn't for princes, drawing was for people who had way to much time on their hands. For people who didn't have to think like Minghao had to. He had to stay on the ground with both of his legs. He couldn't afford to drift off into his own world.

But in a country as Voulux, who wouldn't draw every once in a while?

His sketchbook had been long gone when Yodi came to pick him up to leave for the fine art exhibition. Imagine a crown prince drawing. That just wouldn't be right. A prince had to be serious. Drawing was for commoners.

“Do you have your speech memorised, sir?” Yodi asked in order to start a conversation in the, until that moment, rather silent limousine.

Prince Minghao nodded, not turning his eyes away from the window “Yes.”

This was a thing Minghao enjoyed doing: speeches. He always wrote his own, which was rare because important people always had their speeches written for them, but Minghao liked writing it himself. Not only because that way he could put his own opinion into it a little, but also because it felt more real. It was more sincere.

He stepped out on the red carpet surrounded by flashes of cameras. People screamed for him to look their way, jumped up and down for him to notice them and even tried to slip past the guards standing on each side on the carpet to keep people from jumping over the surrounding fences. Minghao straightened his back to walk over the carpet into the big, artistic looking building. He didn't really smile, he had to look serious.

He entered the large hal filled with people only to be gaped at by everyone already present. He nodded his head at people in greeting and followed Yodi to where the prince was supposed to be.

The Chairman of the art society came walking towards prince Minghao with open arms and a wide smile. It was a small, round man wearing a nice, black suit “Your Royal highness, it is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

“The honor is mine mister Ren. Thank you for organizing such a fine exhibition.” Prince Minghao looked around out of courtesy, not really seeing anything.

The chairman beamed at the prince's compliment “Thank you, your highness. Why don't you look around a bit before we start your speech? I could give you a quick tour if you'd like?” he straightened his back proudly.

Minghao curled one side of his lips up in a slight smile “You must be busy, mister Ren, I wouldn't want to be a bother.”

The chairman's eyes widened “Oh you wouldn't at all be a bother highness, on the contrary, it would be my honor.” without awaiting the crown prince’s answer, the chairman started his tour “We could start right here, at this wonderful piece of one of the old masters of Voulux. “conversation of death” by miss Zhao Zhi. A remarkable piece by a remarkable woman…” He looked off into the distance as if he was dreaming “Notice how she actually worked with some kind of texture.” He pointed at parts of the painting “You'll see that she used big brush strokes for the hay, using clair obscur, making the strays visible, almost touchable. And how she used a small textured brush for death's cloak to make it look soft and-”

Minghao had actually been listening interestedly when the party got interrupted by guards bursting through the door holding a beautiful girl by her arm. It was obvious that she had tried to tidy her hair for the party, but now there were bits and pieces hanging loose in front of her face, probably because she had tried to hurry away from the guards. In her hand she was holding a quite small, square, canvas. It had clearly been painted on with bright colors.

Your eyes scanned the big room full of people but stopped when they noticed prince Minghao. You pushed your glasses a bit further up your nose with the hand you were holding the painting in, causing your face to disappear behind it. The guards pulled you to where the chairman was, the grip on your wrist increasing a little.

Minghao frowned and followed the chairman as he jogged towards the guards “What is this supposed to mean?” he asked in a harsh voice.

Minghao frowned at the sight of you, you had turned your eyes down, looking at prince Minghao's feet.

“She tried to sneak in... again.” The guard that wasn't holding you said.

The chairman sighed frustratedly “You realise that the crown prince is here? And you bring her here!?” The chairman looked around to where he and Minghao had been standing before they ran over to the guards, expecting to see Minghao still standing there. He jumped when he saw Minghao standing right beside him.

Minghao, however, had been looking at the painting in your hand. Not noticing the crowd of people gathering around to see what was happening.

“Your highness, I-” The chairman started, stuttering nervously. He had clearly not expected prince Minghao to stand behind him “She… she has been trying to get in here the entire evening, despite us sending her away multiple times already.”

You tried to pull your arm out of the guard his grip, sighing as you failed to do so.

“Have you asked her why?” Minghao asked, his gaze moving from your face, to your hand, to the chairman.

The chairman stood dumbfounded “W-well… no but-”

The prince raised his hand, signaling the chairman to stop talking, before turning to you. You had stopped wriggling and looked Minghao straight into his eyes. Though looking royalty into their eyes is seen as rude, there was something about you that made him feel like you could. Something about your eyes made him feel comfortable enough to look into them and feel like he never wanted to look away.

Though you had just tried to break in to one of the most important events happening this year, you didn't at all look guilty or scared. It was as if you were oblivious to the fact that this was a completely illegal thing to do.

Minghao changed his amazed expression back to his normal, neutral expression and cleared his throat “Good evening, might I ask what you are doing here?”

Your eyes switched from Minghao’s, to the painting in your hand, to Minghao's nose, afraid to look him in the eye. But you didn't answer. You had opened your mouth to say something but closed it again once you realised you didn't know what to say. Or maybe the fact the crown prince of your country was talking to you, flustered you so much you couldn't say anything. Minghao couldn't tell.

Prince Minghao cleared his throat again before his gaze turned stern “I asked you what you were doing here.”

Your widened, scared looking eyes found his again and blinked once before turning to the painting in your hand again. You sighed before stretching your arm to give prince Minghao the painting.

Minghao frowned, had no idea what you wanted, but stretched his arm to take the painting from you anyway.

“Highness!” The chairman exclaimed “Are you sure that's such a good idea? You don't know what that is.”

Prince Minghao really had a hard time to keep himself from sighing annoyed before he turned his head to the chairman “It's a painting mister Ren. I doubt there's anything life threatening to that.”

Having turned around meant prince Minghao's arm had dropped again, he nodded at the painting “What is this?”

Your lip curled up slightly, your eyes turned to the floor “For you.”

You had an accent, as if you weren’t from Voulux. Maybe you had come from one of the other Pledis countries, Voulux was one of the two Pledis countries that spoke in a language different from the language used in the eleven other. But with those two words you had said Minghao couldn’t be sure.

Minghao rolled his eyes, sighed and took the canvas from you. With rough, big brush stripes an expressionist portrait was painted on it. A portrait of a person Minghao recognized as himself. He was painted in bright, warm colors. A crown on his head, his eyes looking to the right. It was gorgeous.

Minghao had no idea how long he stared at the painting before his eyes turned themselves to you again. Seconds, maybe minutes or hours. Never had anyone painted him, and you, a strange girl whom he didn't know, had painted him so beautifully. Out of nowhere, unexpected.

Your eyes inspected him curiously, tried to read him, hoping you could see what he thought of your present. But as a crown prince, Minghao had learned how to keep his face straight. And though he wanted to smile, scream out of happy surprise and hug you, he knew he couldn't.

He let his arm, holding the canvas, hang beside his body and frowned, looking you in your eyes “...Who are you?” he didn't ask it loudly, merely whispered it. Just for you to hear.

But just before you could introduce yourself mister Ren stepped in “Your highness, what did she give you?”

He held out his hand for Minghao to give him the painting, but Minghao pulled the canvas up to his chest so the chairman couldn't take it. He turned to the guards, completely ignoring mister Ren “Could you take her to the back please? Don’t hurt her, I'll handle this later.” Without giving you another look he turned to the chairman again, handing the painting to Yodi, the look in his eyes suggesting he couldn't show anyone “Is it time for my speech yet, Chairman?”

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adore-holland · 6 years ago

Text

Running

Summary: After Steve and Bucky get back out from the bunker in Siberia, you can’t figure out what’s going on in Steve’s head.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: 3000

Warnings: Swearing. Angst? Fluff? Mentions of injury and blood.

Prompt: “You are so fucking stupid!”

A/N: This was written for @captain-ariel-barnes 4K writing challenge. Congrats! Even though you’ve already grown so much more since then. This is my first reader insert, so thank you for jumpstarting that. I hope you like it!

Your fingers move slowly, in the all too familiar patterns. The small metal pieces in front of you move around, in more and more intricate arrangements. With a snap of your fingers, the pieces melt but keep hanging, as small droplets, in the cold air.

You have been sat there, doing exactly that, for what feels like hours. In reality, it has only been two at most. The sun is still just above the horizon, coloring the sky peach, with its hues of pink and orange. It’s beautiful, as it reflects ever so slightly on the snow. Steve had asked you to stay behind on the Quinjet, while he and Bucky went in. Of course, you had agreed; Although reluctantly.

From what Bucky had explained about the place, it was a big metal bunker. You would be useful in there, but it’s their fight, so you let them go at it alone. If worse comes to show, they can reach you through their coms.

The air around you feels almost static, from the tension rolling off of you. No matter how hard you try to relax, your muscles keep tensing up at every small sound; The wind howling outside, or even the “clunk” of a rock hitting the jet.

It is quiet in a way you aren’t used to anymore. Ever since Steve introduced you to the rest of the Avengers, there’s always someone talking or arguing around you. The usual bickering through the coms, or Tony and Bruce going over something scientific. Even when you were alone, your thoughts will run wild. But sitting here, in the jet, your mind is completely silent.

You are worried, a blind stranger would be able to tell that. A guy you had connected with immediately after meeting him during SHIELDS fall, and your best friend, the love of your life, is in there facing a somewhat unknown threat. But you remain put, in case they need a quick escape. They will be okay. Steve and Bucky together, anyone would be stupid to face them.

The sun is slowly beginning to set outside. It’s stunning, the way the snow glistens. Almost as if it is thanking the sun for bringing it life.

Slowly, you close your fist, and the metal droplets morph into a small ball. About the size of a tennis ball, and you let it fall down into your hand. You keep it soft, using it as a stress ball, as you look out onto Siberia. It’s beautiful, and if it wasn’t for what being there meant, you would even call it peaceful.

A thump is heard from the back end of the ship. Two knocks followed by three rapid taps. They are back. You drop the metal ball, which turns hard again after leaving your hold. It falls to the floor with a loud clash. Quickly pushing the button, you watch the door slowly fold down. The sight you’re met with is surprising, to say the least. And not in a good way.

Bucky is hunched forward, visibly putting almost his entire weight on Steve. His left shoulder just a stump of metal, and loose wires. His face is contorted in intense pain. Both mentally and physically, if you are to trust your gut.

Steve is no better, halting slightly on his right leg. His uniform is bloody, and smudged with soot; his shield nowhere to be seen. They take the first step up the ramp, and they both emit groans from their effort.

Shaking your head quickly, you shoot forward to Bucky’s left side. As gently as you can you place one hand on his back, and the other on his chest for support. You cast a glance at Steve and finally notice his face. He’s bleeding, there’s a cut at his temple, in his lower lip, and the blood streams slowly out of his nose. His brows are furrowed together, accentuating the small line between them.

He turns to face you, and you witness him crumble under your gaze. His eyes going from being filled with determination to regret. In a single blink of his eyes, they well up with tears. He clenches his jaw, and you watch worriedly while his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

You raise your eyebrows slightly at him, but he just shakes his head and keeps his eyes pointed forward. You finally manage to get Bucky into one of the chairs along the left wall. He lets out a groan, as Steve moves out from under him.

“Do you want me to do anything about your shoulder?” Bucky barely looks up at your question. Staring down at the floor, like he’s hoping it’s gonna swallow him up. Instead, you turn to Steve who just nods. Lifting your hand up, the small metal ball from before flies effortlessly into it. You snap and again it turns liquid. As gently as you can, you morph it to fit the edges of his “wound” and put a cover on it. Where he had a metal arm before, he only has a metal stump now.

“I would make a new arm for you, but there aren’t enough scrap metal here. Maybe we can find some wherever we’re going.” You direct the message to Steve, but Bucky’s eyes shoot up and find yours. Panic-stricken and scared. He grabs onto your upper arm with his right hand.

“Please, don’t.” You swallow the lump in your throat and nod reassuringly at him. Whatever happened in there, it can’t have been good. He lets you go again, and you follow Steve to the cockpit. As soon as he’s there, he plops down into the co-pilot seat. You crouch down in front of him and look up at your tired friend. Your heart clenches at the sight of him. He reaches out for one of your hands, and holds it in both of his.

It’s familiar. The way he runs his thumb over your hand. Tracing the veins, and rubbing circles to calm you down. That was something you had never really understood. One of the only ways to calm Steve down was to let him play with some part of you. It was either having you lay on his lap, and playing with your hair, or it was tracing invisible patterns on your back under your shirt, and in the more serious moments, it was your hands.

You reach up, gently cupping his jaw. Gently switching his gaze from your hands to your eyes. He opens his mouth, about to say something, before he takes your other hand from his jaw.

“Talk to me, Steve.” Your voice is almost a whisper, but you know he hears you from the way his brows scrunch together again. “You know, no matter what happened in there, I’m with you.”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, his eyes clench shut, and his jaw sets. He drops your hands from his hold, and straightens up, looking out the window. Doing everything in his power not to look at you. It feels like he punched you in the throat, and you can’t swallow the lump that lodges itself there.

Your heart beats rapidly as you stand again, and you move to the pilot seat, feeling nothing short of defeat. Sitting down, you quickly start up the engine. The jet hums back to life.

“Where to?”

“Wakanda.”

:-:-:

Steve hasn’t spoken a single word to you the entire journey. Bucky isn’t any better, staring down at his feet the entire time. For comfort, you listen to their breathing, but even that is somewhat mournful.

When you ask why you are going to Wakanda, when their king is trying to kill Bucky, you are met with silence yet again.

You can physically feel yourself getting frustrated with them, your fists clenching around the controls. But you let them be, they are probably just processing whatever happened.

Even as you are sitting in a small house, on the outskirts of Wakanda, they still won’t talk to you. T’Challa had been the one to explain the situation to you, and Shuri had followed you out to the cottage. She bid her goodbye with an eager smile and a promise that you had to come see her lab before you left.

She’s a fun, feisty little one, and you can see yourself getting along well with her. But as soon as she leaves, your eerily quiet friends take over your thoughts once again.

With a heavy sigh, you walk over to where they are sitting, in a small living area. Steve stands stiffly, looking out over the green forest, and Bucky is just staring at nothing in one of the big chairs. You basically throw yourself into the large beige couch.

Again, neither of them even bother looking your way. Your teeth clench, and you feel your jaw click shut with anger.

“Alright, either you tell me what happened, or you tell me where we go from here.” Your voice is menacing as it fills the quiet space, but you’re honestly done with their silent treatment. Steve shakes his head, turning around slowly. His brows are furrowed together, and eyes dark as they finally make contact with yours. A slight chill runs down your spine as he finally opens his mouth.

“You and Bucky stay here. I’ll go back for the others.” He crosses his arms over his chest, the battered suit straining around his muscles. With a nod of finality, he walks over to the door, and out of the cottage. Your mouth pops open in surprise.

The room is once again filled with silence, only this time you are seething. Bucky looks up, almost warily. His steel blue eyes bubbling with sorrow and remorse. It’s almost comical the way you act around each other now, afraid to break the silence, where you were once the only other person the Winter Soldier trusted.

“Bucky, please. What is going on?” Your elbows rest on your knees, your face almost completely burrowed in your hands, and your breathing hot against the heel of them. In a way, you feel like crying, if anything just to get the burning behind your eyes to disappear.

“He loves you.” Your head snaps up to look at him. He’s still staring at the same empty spot in the room, face grimacing in pain. You so desperately want to reach out and comfort him, but even in the short span of knowing him, you know that you can’t defend him from his own demons.

“What?” Of every possible thing he could have said, that wasn’t what you were expecting. Of course, you know that Steve loves you, but never in the way you want him to.

“He’s trying to protect you, but…” He finally looks up at you, greasy hair and hollow eyes boring into your soul. It both fills you with relief and punches the air out of your lungs. “But he loves you. Don’t- Don’t let him run from that.”

There’s nothing to do but nod. How do you even answer something like that? Instead, you stand up, walk over to the soldier, and place a comforting hand on his real shoulder.

“Whatever happened in there... You haven’t been yourself for 70 years, you can’t blame yourself for the actions of a Hydra weapon.” To your surprise he reaches up and grabs your hand in his, he tugs slightly at it, and you catch on. Gently snaking your arms around him, basically hugging him from behind.

It’s intimate in a way you’re unfamiliar with. Perhaps if you had ever had a little brother, it would have been like this. Even if Bucky is older than you, he’s vulnerable and willing to seek comfort, safety. With a hum, he leans his head back against you.

“Leave him behind. Get rid of the Winter Soldier, and just be Sergeant Barnes from now on.” With that, you place a quick kiss on the top of his head and untangle your arms from him.

Considering the fact that you’re in Wakanda, it’s a relatively cold evening. The navy sky is only lit by a crescent moon and scattered stars. Steve’s silhouette stands out against the moonlit water. His back is turned to you, and the image of him standing there, in solitude, makes your heart clench painfully in your chest.

The sand shifting under your feet alerts him of your presence, that much is obvious from the tensing of his shoulders.

“I talked to T’challa,” he states coldly without turning around. “You and Bucky can stay here for as long as you like.”

No matter how much you want to reach out and hug him, you keep yourself a couple of steps from his side. The view takes away your breath, and you wonder if your body is even able to contain oxygen at this point. The completely black water is separated by the long reflection of the moon. It looks like something out of one of the expensive painting Tony has littered all over the Stark Tower.

“And what makes you think I’m staying here?” Contrary to your statement, your voice is quiet. The natural silence that comes with the small waves from the ocean, almost too precious to break.

“Y/N please.” He turns to face you, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him pulling the typical Steve look. Furrowed brows, commanding eyes, tight lips. It’s like looking at a picture of him from mid-battle.

Anger bubbles in the pit of your stomach.

“You don’t wanna tell me what happened in Siberia. I’m fine with that! But then you expect me to stay here, with no reasoning behind it. Steve, you know me better than too expect that from me.” Your fist clenches, and the metal pieces in your suit flicker to life.

“We… y/n we are criminals now. I can’t force you to go on the run with me.” His large warm hand grabs your clenched fist, and it burns.

“But you can force me to just leave the world behind?” You pull your fist out of his hand, a little too harshly, but at the moment there’s nothing in you that cares. “To leave my life behind.” Your fist unclenches, and you run your still tense fingers through your hair. “To leave you behind?”

He takes a step back, lashes fluttering slightly at you. His face transforming in the blink of an eye; persistence, confusion, worry, sorrow. He has no right.

“You can’t just force me to change my life, Steve.” Your cheeks are burning. In fact, your entire body is burning. Boiling over in unexpressed emotions.

“I didn’t think… I can’t be Captain America anymore y/n.”

“You idiot.” Staring him dead in the eye, you take a step closer to him. “You are so fucking stupid!” Another step.

“Y/n…” He’s grasping for straws now, but you aren’t handing him any.

“No! I don’t care if you’re Captain America. Steve, I never followed you because you were Captain America.” Another step. “You have never been my boss. Whenever I have followed you, it has been my choice, not because you commanded me to.” Another step.

Finally, the proximity to him catches up to you. You’re inches away from him, practically breathing the same air. A lump forms in your throat, as you look up at him. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated to the extreme, in the midnight surroundings. When your voice finally comes out again, it’s almost timid.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because you’re Captain America.” Your lungs expand, as you’re finally able to breathe again. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders, and as cliché as that sounds it’s true.

One of his hands rises up to gently caress your jaw, his thumb running carefully over your cheekbone. It doesn’t burn this time.

“What did you say?” A whisper, almost too low and breathy to register.

“I’m in love with you Steve.” Your lips break out into a smile, and you almost feel like your cheeks are gonna crack open when his eyes light up.

He bows his head, all the while tilting your chin up, and gently lays his lips on yours. It’s soft and loving, and everything you imagined it would be. All at once you feel safe, and on the edge of something scary. Butterflies and lumps moving around in your stomach at the same time. You’re flying, but you’ve never been so grounded before. More than anything, it feels right.

You both break away from the kiss, resting your foreheads on each others. His breathing is ragged, and you’re sure that yours isn’t any better. Your eyes are heavy, refusing to open, and you’re grateful, to be able to live in the moment a little bit longer.

“And I’m in love with you y/n.” His voice is as breathy as it normally is after a fight, and you break out into a grin at the prospect that fighting aliens and kissing you scares him equally.

You move your face away from his and just look at him. You’re not searching for anything in particular, but somehow you’re still satisfied with what you find. A flushed cheek, red-lipped, surprised Steve. A happy Steve.

Not being able to resist, you place your arms around him, and lean into him, looking out over the dark water. Staying in your small bubble for a little longer. After a few moments, of just listening to the waves and Steve’s heart, you adjust your head to look back towards the cottage. A tall shadow stands in front of it, clearly looking out at you.

You don’t bother breaking away from Steve, but close your eyes and lean even further into him.

“Go, get the others. I’ll stay here and help Bucky get situated. But come back and get me.” Steve chuckles from above your head, and you smile at the comforting sound.

“Yes, boss.”

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #angst #writing challenge #captainarielbarnes4k #Fan fiction

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