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notchesandbullets · 4 years ago

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Wherever You Go, I Will Follow (Boxer! Metal Arm! Bakugou x Reader) Underground!AU

Art credit: @/helloclonion on Instagram

Warnings: violence, drinking (everyone is of age), hints of ptsd and depression, mentions of cloning norms, angst but fluffy ending.

Synopsis: Bakugou doesn’t like to talk about what happened to his left arm. Years of fighting underground had made him harder than nails. Society was messed up. Children weren’t born, they were made and any who aren’t adopted are raised in mass orphanages. But you’re special. And you’ve chosen the light even though you’ve seen the darkness. Who else to get through to his heart other than someone like you?

Words: 7.8k

The lights blind you momentarily as they flashed on. The humidity in such a crowded space packed with people was making your skin crawl but it was worth it for the greatly anticipated show.

An underground arena that had this much hype was rare since most fighters didn’t make it past their 20s due to injuries so severe from boxing that it cost them their lives.

There were zero qualified doctors here in the society riddled with old factories that didn't exist anymore and sleazy underground cities where nothing could grow anymore due to the pollution. It had fallen to ruin and only a select handful that could heal like they claimed to.

Due to that little insignificant fact, that meant the expected lifespan of everyone down here wasn’t more than 30 years of age.

Of course, it varied from section to section, but there was enough pattern to know that there wasn’t long to live once you got to your teens.

Therefore, everyone lived fast and hard down here, trying to experience as much as they could before it was their time to go.

And while you couldn’t say that you blamed them, that wasn’t how you wanted to live. You wanted to fight back against the norm and make a difference that would change this world.

Which is why you were so interested in this particular fighter.

Bakugou Katsuki.

A reformed individual with a criminal record after a looting with his crew went sideways. He was stronger than most with an attitude and ego bigger than the city itself.

He was renowned to be one of the baddest in the underground and had a personality as difficult as a cloned Siberian tiger.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You didn’t know why Mic couldn’t come scout today instead of you, you hated how jam packed Bakugou’s fights got, which is why you always steered clear of them.

Well, that and because you weren’t exactly partial to his famed temper.

Then, the glint of metal had you on the edge of your seat, eyes sparkling with curiosity as you caught a better look the second time around as he stomped into the ring.

Was that… a metal arm?

It looked like something straight out of Marvel’s Winter Soldier from back in the day. Scarily so.

You faintly recalled that his opponent’s name was Shindou, supposedly the underground’s upcoming rising star to the top. His undefeated reputation preceded him and he certainly was easy on the eyes.

So why did you find your gaze drawn to the arrogant boxer with a cocky smirk on his face across from the guy that was cuter than him?

Metal arm flexing, sweat dripped down his brow, his crimson eyes narrowed in concentration and tinged with a hint of malice as his much larger rival took a swing at him to kick off the round.

Bakugou blocked it head on, retaliating with a force that sent him spiraling towards the cage. His wrapped hands were crusted with blood and he hastily brushed the dirtied, spiky hair that fell into his eyes out of his face, a ravenous hunger coming through as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Is that all you fucking got, extra?!” He screamed in Shindou’s face and you actually had to cover your ears at the sheer volume that carried through the stadium, egging him on.

Your mouth dried as Bakugou caught him across the jaw the second he flew at him, knocking out his opponent in one go, calling the match in under thirty seconds flat.

Holy shit, he’s good. You thought to yourself, thoroughly impressed, barely able to hear yourself over the crowd’s roar as Bakugou punched his fist in the air victoriously.

His technique seemed rough to the naked eye but taking a closer look, his form and tactics were flawless. His overall strategy could use a little work, since he seemed particularly keen on using brute strength, but he was really good at turning the tables on his opponent in an instant.

And really good at making sure that they couldn’t get up again after he threw them down.

You had your share of good fighters. Not like that, you dirty minded creature, you were a scout for your father’s gym.

Aizawa wasn’t a revered name by any means, but that didn’t mean he lacked skill. He was the one who could take down more people than any other pro could, but he absolutely hated media attention. Hence why almost no one knew of his abilities, other than a select few of his colleagues and fellow fighters.

And you of course. You were so incredibly proud of your him.

He had recently been scouting new talent after taking in several kids: Shinsou, Todoroki and Midoriya.

The female boxers in his ring were a literal force to be reckoned with. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen someone pack a punch with as much power as Uraraka when she got serious. And no one could beat Yaoyorozu when they stepped in the same arena as her.

In the underground, it was normal to come across those that talked big, but rarely have you ever seen them deliver.

This guy had some raw talent. Perfect.

Looks like Uncle Hizashi’s instinct was right.

After the fights ended and the exciting night came to a close, you wormed your way through the rows of people lining up to claim their bets that they had placed at the beginning of the night. You were at least smart enough not to get sucked into all that.

A cage match had too many variables. The odds could change in a split second, no matter how good or bad the fighter was. And since there were no rules, anybody could win.

You found the boxer in the designated fighters’ alcove security had put there especially for them to wind down. Here, they would be hidden away from the crowd and only the fighters knew about this spot aside from those that protected it.

“You’re good.”

Bakugou snorted, not looking up at the sound of your voice as he continued to unwrap the tape from his hands. “Of course I am, dumbass.”

You cocked an eyebrow at his arrogant attitude but after a fight like that, you guessed the pride was well deserved. After all, the guy he went up against was undefeated. No one had beat him and after Shindou earned his reputation of tearing the limbs off of the fighters he faced, no one wanted to step into the ring with him after that.

But Bakugou didn’t back away, even going so far as to taunt this guy, boldly proclaiming that he’d beat him.

Normally, you would brush off those guys as no good but he made good on what he said he would do, so you were at least a little bit curious.

A little.

You still didn’t like his attitude though.

Tossing the bloodied wraps in his bag, he ignored you as you just stood there like a lost puppy. People like you didn’t belong in the underground.

Soft.

Bakugou scowled and huffed scornfully, throwing his bandages down with a little more force than necessary.

Patching up wasn’t too bad this time around. He was lucky the round ended when it did though, that fucking extra had too much boisterous energy and willpower that had carried him this far. Still, it was better than fighting bare-knuckled.

There was a time when wraps or gloves weren’t allowed. People liked the blood and violence, and craved someone to come out victorious by taking the other’s life.

Fucking sickos if anyone asked him.

Bakugou slung his gym bag over his shoulder and shouldered his way past you since you had yet to say a word after that initial, begrudging praise. He couldn’t care less if you hung around but he wasn’t going to stick around for the damn media to catch whiff of this fight.

Once it was leaked that he had won, they would take a percentage of his cut and he would have to go without food for another week just to pay rent on that shitty place he stayed at.

It wasn’t much but it was better than the streets.

“Wait.” You called out, inwardly chastising yourself for being so pathetic.

You weren’t star-struck or nothing, so why were you feeling so tongue-tied?

Taking a deep breath when he snapped his head around to glare at you in annoyance for stopping him, you rolled your eyes when he tapped his foot impatiently.

“You gonna take all fucking night, extra?” Bakugou barked at you, clearly not playing around.

Your eyes widened as the metal plates on his left arm clinked together as he raised up his fist threateningly.

“I’ve got places to go and shit to do.” He grumbled. “So if you’re just going to stand there like a fucking—”

“Do you want to be a part of Aizawa’s gym?” You blurted out before he could get too carried away on his rant.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. It was rare that the scruffy old man took on recruits.

Huffing, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and scrutinized you. “Who the hell are you?”

You cringed at how rough his voice laced with suspicion came out but you supposed you could understand.

Collectors were far too common these days, usually rich scouts from corporations that searched for talented fighters to partake in their financial war when it turned bloody.

You weren’t really sure how it was possible for those airheads to train delinquents into soldiers for their military to fight in the wars that they created, but all you were really concerned about was dodging those scouts.

They weren’t people to trifle with.

Bakugou’s suspicions were misplaced this time around though and you jutted out your hip, planting your hand on it as you regarded him disinterestedly.

There was only one thing that you could say to get him to trust you.

“He’s my dad.” You said quietly.

The boxer nearly choked on air and you flashed him a cheeky grin when he whipped his head around to glare at you.

“Fuck, seriously?”

You nodded and a heavy exhale whooshed out of his lungs in one breath.

Bakugou cocked up an eyebrow, seeing you in a completely different light. “Holy shit.”

You resisted the urge to dash away under his intrigue but you flinched when his eyes landed on you again.

“Sorry.” Bakugou muttered, averting his eyes. “Just never seen one before.”

You scratched the back of your neck, a habit you picked up from your introverted father whenever he was put in uncomfortable situations. “Yeah…”

Children weren’t born anymore, it was illegal. Partly because expenses couldn’t be covered if people got pregnant and partly because the kids would have nowhere to go, but mostly because the government wanted a controlled population.

By controlling the gene pool, they could create whoever and whomever they chose, placing them in different status’ around the world to fill in the gaps and create the perfect society.

Except, it really wasn’t all that perfect.

You had been a product of your mom and dad’s unconditional love for each other, something else that was also forbidden, especially in the underground cities where disease ran rampant and claimed numerous innocent lives everyday.

Your mother wasn’t dead but she did have to leave soon after you were born to protect you from the government officials that would come if she stayed.

Your dad was heartbroken but once every three years, the three of you were reunited under the bridge where seagulls cried and the waves crashed upon the shore.

Once upon a time.

Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, his bicep bulging and you were willing to wager that he specifically got those measurements for his metal arm tailored to those specifications just so his huge muscles were distractingly the same size.

He was still not entirely convinced you were who you said you were. He knew that you had to at least be a bastard’s biological child, no one was bold enough or fucking stupid to say that much out loud, but he still wasn’t sure that the old man was your dad.

Not bothering to be discreet as he eyed you up and down, he motioned for you to give him a little more information.

“Aizawa, huh?” Bakugou drawled. “You don’t fucking look like a brat that belongs to him.”

Clearing your throat, you smirked. Now you were the one tapping your foot impatiently. “Thanks, I’m told I have my mother’s eyes.”

He glared at your sarcasm but you didn’t care.

Craning your neck to the side to get a better look at that beautiful arm of his, you pouted when he ducked out of range.

“Prove that he’s your dad.” He demanded and you feigned innocence before shooting him a grin when he rolled his eyes irritably.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you responded cheekily, “Coffee and cats are his two favorite things in the world, and he only tolerates Uncle Hizashi on a whim when he’s wasted.”

Bakugou barked out laughing and you smiled at the boisterous sound escaping from his lungs.

“So,” You kicked your feet, scuffing the dirt as you sidled over to him. “You in or what?”

His left arm glinted in the dim, flickering light of the alcove and he tucked in his chin the slightest bit to stare down at you, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Hell yeah.”

Exactly one year later, you were weaving in between the clustered bodies in the dingy underground bar you were at to make your way to the obnoxious and rowdy group in the back, all while balancing a tray of beers in one hand.

They had just arrived a few minutes ago, eagerly chatting with your dad, who was their trainer, even though he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Your skirt flared around your ankles as you sashayed through the crowd dancing on the dancefloor, a couple strands of hair sticking to your forehead from the exertion of how many tables you waited on already.

“First round’s here!!” You announced, beaming brightly at the packed group of 15.

Shoji, Mineta, and a few others couldn’t make it due to conflicting schedules. But it was alright, they would come again another time. Besides, you were quite sure that a special someone couldn’t care less if they made it or not for this particular day.

“YES!!” Kaminari shouted escatically, throwing his hands up in the air.

A chorus of “thank you’s” came from the girls as Ashido eagerly reached for her first drink of the night, downing half the bottle in one go. You predicted she was going to be out like a light within the hour if she kept that pace up.

“Don’t get shitfaced, Kaminari.” Jirou twirled a strand of her dark hair cockily as she teasingly held the last one out of arm’s reach. “Lightweight.”

“Jirou!!” Kaminari protested while the table burst into laughter.

The edgy fighter eventually gave into him, shaking her head in disapproval when he proceeded to chug all of it straight like it was some kind of shot. A knowing smirk appeared on her face when he choked.

“Told you so.” She rubbed in his face as Asui leaned into her side.

“Shut up!!” Kaminari shouted between violent bouts of coughing. It only got worse when Ashido slapped his back, already drunk.

But the slight pink dusted across his cheeks clued you in on what he was really doing.

You shook your head. If he was any more dense, you would’ve smacked him upside the head. Maybe then he would’ve come to his senses and that he didn’t need to do all these things to impress her.

Jirou never hated anything more than someone who felt fake to her.

As you distributed the rest of the drinks to a clueless Todoroki, a way too eager Midoriya, and handed water to Koda, who thanked you shyly with a small nod.

You smiled at him, then left to the bar that your uncle was managing to get the order for the next table while Iida shouted for everyone to make sure they drank responsibly so that they didn’t cause any problems for you.

But it was largely ignored in favor of raising their beers in a toast for the birthday boy.

Bakugou scowled in the corner that he was shoved into, wondering why he of all people had to be dragged to this shitty celebration for a birthday he couldn’t care less about. It was too loud here and it was making his head hurt. The only consolation he got was that you were a rare sight, wearing a dress that he had bought for you a week ago.

The seamstress who had made it for him specifically had charged him an incredible amount of money for it, since fabric of any kind that wasn’t made from recycled garbage liners was nearly impossible to come by.

But being a part of the ring of fighters that made up Aizawa’s Warriors gave him credibility and enabled him to make even more money than he did before, so it wasn’t a problem.

That much.

After rent on his rundown place and scrounging for food, he had saved up the rest for weeks before he was able to afford the pale blue satin dress edged with delicate white lace around the sleeves that cascaded off your shoulders. The tightly-fitted bodice that wrapped around your waist was a simple leather corset, accentuating those curves of yours more than should be legally allowed.

You looked absolutely delicious.

You continued to sweep around the tavern, oblivious to the looks you were getting. You had a bit of expertise in waitressing due to the lack of income your dad was able to provide so you had to convince him that you really didn’t mind helping out with the staff tonight.

The bar, owned by your Uncle Hizashi, a retired fighter but not retired in spirit, had all the profits go to the orphanages the city couldn’t keep track of or be bothered to pay for; which enabled those kids who were abandoned to have a roof over their heads in all the uncertainty.

The state of those houses holding those homeless children were horrendous.

But your dad and uncle were taking steps to create something new that would provide them with some relief and a new family.

Kirishima clapped the ash-blond on the shoulder, jarring him out of his annoyance. “Come on, Bakugou, loosen up!!”

He clicked his tongue and scowled at the red-haired guy’s energy. No one would think that this fun-loving guy and people person would be such a terrifying fighter in the arena.

Kirishima frowned when he noticed his lack of enthusiasm. “C’mon man, I know this isn’t your scene but Y/N worked really hard on this.”

Bakugou’s drink nearly spilled as he set it down abruptly. He wasn’t expecting that. Aizawa had told him that his friends had arranged this.

Picking up on his confusion, Kirishima then proceeded to tell him about how you gathered everybody to ask if they’d be willing to attend the party and how all of them enthusiastically said yes. You had gotten special permission from your Uncle Hizashi to borrow the VIP section of his bar and convinced your father to go easy on their training today.

Really, the grumpy man with the metal arm should be thanking you since you were the reason all of them weren’t sore to death with barely enough energy to keep their heads up.

Kirishima was going to blame it on Aizawa. He was tough on them. Too tough. No one should be that determined to make their students push past their limits but everyone knew it came from him caring more than anyone else.

They were all like his adopted children, in a weird, skewed way. But, no one was going to argue against it. None of them had their biological parents in the picture.

Besides, Aizawa had enough room for them all to crash in his home. An abandoned mansion overrun with thick green vines but had no working electricity whatsoever looked like something straight out of one of those old horror movies back in the 3000s.

Bakugou scoffed. Like hell should he care about whether or not you planned this. He didn’t ask you to do any of this, you decided to do it all on your own.

“Whatever.” He grumbled, snatching his bottle before stalking away from his shocked friends left in the dust.

Todoroki raised an eyebrow as Kirishima sighed and Midoriya’s expression saddened when he saw him leave. They were supposed to be celebrating…

And yet, all three of them knew why today was so hard for the explosive boxer.

You frowned as you noticed the slumped figure retreating to the back of the establishment. Finishing up serving the drinks for the table you were waiting on, you briefly made a detour to your uncle and asked if it was alright that you take a break.

Ever the doting uncle who loved to spoil you rotten, Mic’s eyes softened understandingly when he noticed who you were staring after and granted you permission.

“Just don’t tell your dad I let you off the hook.” He bargained with an exaggerated wink and you giggled.

“I won’t.” You reassured, setting down the tray and squeezing his hand in thanks.

Then, you followed Bakugou.

He disappeared around the corner and as soon as you tailed him, you came to a stop in front of a heavy door. Your brow furrowed, wondering why he would be coming here.

Step after familiar step you took until you eventually came to a standstill on the roof.

Behind you, the heavy door slammed close but it sounded different than usual. Something metal crashed into it, denting it by the sounds of it, and it wasn’t until you turned around that you found Bakugou’s vermilion eyes boring into yours.

The wind was stronger up here and you pinned your arms down to your side, knowing full well from experience how mortifying it would be if your skirt decided to flip up right now.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” He snapped angrily.

To his surprise, you didn’t look the least bit fazed by his outburst.

“I live here.” You responded nonchalantly, undeterred by his characteristic abrasiveness.

If Bakugou was startled at that revelation, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked even more irked, though you didn’t know why. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you of lying but in this world, it was safer to be skeptical than sorry.

However, you hadn’t given him one reason to doubt you the entire year you’ve known him. Not one.

So if anything, he trusted you more than the majority of the rats in his rundown city and just as much as his small circle of extras.

Picking your way past him carefully since the roof didn’t have a safety rail, you made your way towards the curtained tent hiding behind the generator. Pushing the tattered material back, you showed him the bedroll and small table set up with a few bottles of water, a case of beer and a worn book.

Bakugou’s mouth dropped open but he recovered quickly so by the time you turned back around, he had the same indifferent, kind of irritated look on his face.

Then, he was a bit at a loss of what to do. It wasn’t often he was faced with the dilemma of being wrong so blatantly. Should he apologize? Even when he didn’t say anything but the thought that you were crazy ran through his head? Should he apologize for something you weren’t even aware of?

Nah, fuck that.

You gingerly took a seat at the edge of the roof, leaning back on your hands as your legs dangled. Patting the spot next to you invitingly, a soft smile curved on the corners of your mouth as he grumbled but came over anyway. He plopped down on your right side and you took a moment to study him.

He looked exhausted, spirit whittled down to the bone until there was nothing left for him to salvage. His eyes were bloodshot and the beer bottle in his hand probably wasn’t doing any favors for him.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes, you asked worriedly, “You okay?”

He huffed in annoyance at your question.

“Fine.” He ground out through clenched teeth and you shut your mouth.

Bakugou clearly wasn’t looking to talk but you yearned to help. You wanted to be there for him.

Kirishima hadn’t told you much, only that the incident that took Bakugou’s arm happened a long time ago and wasn’t something he liked to relive.

You didn’t push it. You had your own share of traumatic experiences in this god-forsaken place and hated nothing more than being forced to talk about by a well meaning friend. So you understood it well.

Instead of pushing the topic, you sat with him in silence. You didn’t ask why he walked away from the party or why it looked like he was drowning himself in his sorrows to forget something, you just offered him a quiet place to sit, with the company of yours truly.

Fate was flawed. You knew that ever since you were born.

The warped sense of justice that the city had was suffocating. People were put away in prison only to be left to rot with no chance of redemption. Those that made it out were casted out to the underground with no hope to see the light.

Combatants-for-hire wasn’t an unusual job to take on in the ruined city. All Might knew you too had been mixed up in some shit.

But it was what made you strong in the end.

“I’m here.” Was all you said softly, staring out at the city lights that were especially illuminating tonight.

Thanks to the heavy pollution, the stars could no longer be seen with the naked eye so this was the closest thing you could get to those twinkling lights raised high in the sky.

“It’s funny.”

You tilted your head towards him as he spoke and was a bit surprised to find him looking directly back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

His eyes were a little dazed, probably from the alcohol, but he looked a little more grounded than he did a minute ago.

Bakugou chuckled but it was short and grated against your ears for a second.

It was mocking.

He tipped his head back, downing the rest of his drink before harshly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he crushed the bottle in his metal fist.

Leaning over, he let go and let the shiny crystals plummet to the ground below.

You smiled faintly, watching how they sparkled. It looked so pretty.

Sitting back down, Bakugou mimicked your posture and huffed out a dry laugh. “Out of all the shitty extras in the world, you would be the only one to fucking get through to me.”

Your puzzlement must’ve shown through his alcohol-induced haze because the next thing you knew was that he teetered to the side as he lost control of his equilibrium and careened into you.

Out of reflex, you caught him and gasped at the temperature difference as his cold metal arm pressed against you. You could feel it through the thin fabric of your dress and latched onto it when he moved to pull away.

“Sorry.” Bakugou slurred curtly as he gathered his bearings and tried to detangle you from him.

But his coordination wasn’t the best and he was growing more and more frustrated when you wouldn’t let go.

He snarled. “Let go.”

You shook your head firmly. “You could fall.”

Oh yeah. You two were on the roof.

This was a bad idea.

He didn’t know how he ended up here with you but he needed to leave. Immediately.

Bakugou stumbled to his feet, somehow managing to lose his way halfway to the door and face-planted in something that smelled faintly of lavender. Snuggling into the soft thing that was rubbing against his face, his brow furrowed in annoyance as you giggled at him.

“You have to take me out on a date first if you want that.” You teased lightly and he immediately sat up as he realized he had crashed in your bed.

He scrambled upright, nearly falling over again in his haste. “Fuck, I’m—”

“It’s alright, Katsuki.” You reassured nonchalantly, coming down to sit beside him, but not close enough where your legs were touching.

Bakugou’s mouth twitched at the sound of his first name but his eyes softened the barest bit and he didn’t fight against it.

Before he met you, he hated his name. It was a reminder that the place he came from was from a lab, cooked up like some sort of sick science experiment to fulfill a role in society that was chosen by some prick who had money.

It was a reminder that he wasn’t real. That he was expendable to all those bastards that ran the world.

But when you used it, when you spoke it with such tentative curiosity and genuine concern, he didn’t feel so unimportant anymore.

“Fuck.” Bakugou breathed as you leaned closer to examine his face.

Your forehead creased in worry and you raised a hand to his head to check his temperature to make sure he wasn’t running a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

Squeaking when he suddenly grabbed your hand, you gasped in shock when he tugged you towards him.

You crashed into his chest and your cheeks flushed hotly as his chiseled form honed from years of training molded against your front.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took a second to realize that his metal arm was planted firmly on the ground, keeping the two of you steady.

But when you reached out your fingers to brush against it, he ripped away from you.

You pulled back immediately, apology weighing in your gaze as your eyes flicked away from him. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fucking hideous.”

You balked at his tenor. “W-What?!”

Bakugou looked away from you, his gaze fixed on the ground behind you as he rested his chin on top of your head, stubbornly refusing to look you in the eye as you breathed steadily against the base of his neck.

You were warm. Delicate.

Precious.

He didn’t expect someone like you to understand.

His vermilion eyes were shadowed by the ghosts of his past that continued to haunt him and he sighed heavily, curling his arm around you tighter. He didn’t want to let you go just let but he didn’t know why you weren’t pushing him away.

Your soft voice rang out. “Katsuki, what do you mean? It’s not hideous at all.”

He clicked his tongue but otherwise didn’t verbalize his disagreement.

“How could someone like you possibly understand this shit?” He spat but you didn’t recoil like he was half hoping you would.

At least then he would have an excuse to leave, under the guise that he had upset you. But you didn’t do any of that.

Too fucking precious. Always saw the good in everything just like that shitty nerd.

You closed your eyes in defeat. “No… I suppose I can’t.”

You didn’t quite understand him.

The bite in his tone sounded like you had hit too close to home, and yet, his thumb was absentmindedly running over the satin of your dress that he had bought you, your side heating up under his chest and warmth bloomed from your heart.

And yet, he wasn’t pushing you away.

Leaning down, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, your heart beating too loud for your own ears. “You don’t have to say anything, but I know what it feels like to be an outcast too.”

Bakugou eyed you cautiously, wondering if this was some sort of trick because he was drunk and definitely not as attentive as normally but your tone was open.

Honest.

“Yeah, maybe you do.” He scoffed, scorning you under his breath. “Maybe you don’t. It doesn’t fucking matter to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t.” You whispered, tracing patterns on his chest as your head lolled to the side to gaze at him with complete vulnerability. “But just know that you aren’t alone.”

Bakugou whipped his head around as you stared at him. Didn’t you get it already? He didn’t want to fucking taint you with all of this shit that went on down here.

He didn’t want to tell you that he had to settle tinkering with whatever scrap metal he could find in the junkyard just to make his left arm operational again, didn’t want to tell you that the government had offered him a real replacement prosthetic but at the cost of becoming one of their combatants fighting in a war he never chose and as a result, he was casted to the side when something went wrong.

He had lost everything.

The second he had been tossed out on the street, he had come crawling back to Kiko, a spunky little girl a part of the UA orphanage in the east, one of the ones that Mic funneled money towards to fund their food and supply them with fresh water every three days.

The girl, no more than ten at the time, with her dirty blonde pigtails sticking out on either side of her lopsided head, had been born with a unique appearance.

The officials called it a defect, as though they were talking about an object of mass production.

Fucking disgusting.

It never seemed to bother the girl though, and she often claimed that she was tougher than all those men in fancy suits. Bakugou liked her spirit already.

Kiko had had this habit of tracing her stubby little fingers all over the scars from his fights whenever he came to visit and it had been her idea to forgo a realistic prosthetic from the corporation that was looking to hire him and just go out, full badass, just like Bucky in the Winter Soldier.

It was her favorite movie but Bakugou claimed he had absolutely no idea where she learned that kind of language from.

He had chuckled and patted her on the head at the time, swearing to hell and back that there was no fucking way he was going to build a metal arm. He would scare the kids if he did that, not to mention, full-grown adults.

But Kiko simply bounded over to him and beamed up at him like nothing was wrong in the world. It was fucking contagious, begging for him to at least consider it, selling the point of how cool it would look.

“You would be a superhero, Bakugou!!” She cheered, raising her hands up high, demanding for him to lift her up even though she wasn’t five anymore. “And you could save everybody, just like you want to!!”

He never got a chance to show her the finished product. Would she have liked it? Would she run around, screaming in his shitty apartment as she played with it when he detached it for cleaning? Would she try to hit him over the head with it when she thought he wasn’t looking like the cheeky brat he knew that she was?

Bakugou could hear her squeals of excitement so vividly some nights that he woke up from his terror of that night, soaked in cold sweat from a memory of the girl he had failed to save.

Defeated and overwhelmed by his circumstances after being rejected by the very people who sought him out because of his talent, he had ventured to the orphanage that night and on a whim, demanded her to live with him. He would take care of her, protect her, teach her things that she couldn’t learn from anyone else.

The widest smile he had ever seen stretched across Kiko’s face and she accepted his demands with eyes tearing up with joy.

He vowed to protect her.

He failed.

He had an unsettled score with the government officials he had upset on his way out from the lab that day they told him he had been scraped from the program.

The enraged fighter went on a rampage, tearing down anything in his path and clearing out the experiment rooms, offering freedom and a second chance to anyone willing and brave enough to take it.

And as a result, many took him up on his offer and fled that place with white walls and food too bland to actually be considered nutritious.

There was no doubt about it. He pissed them off the day he saved the others.

They had come for her and taken her last year on his birthday as revenge for freeing those they were experimenting on. He found a crumpled, poorly wrapped, newspaper covered package lost in the clutter of his apartment when he got home.

The creaking old door that kept out winter drafts had caved in, signifying that it had broken in with considerable force, and Kiko was gone.

That crushed gift hidden under the stairwell was the only thing that remained of her.

Inside, there was a small metal pin in the shape of an explosion. For his personality. Corny, but the little girl was simple-minded and liked the sentiment she found in things that she repurposed.

Bakugou always thought it was fucking weird but he hadn’t taken it off ever since that day.

The metal plates of his arm glided, clinking together softly as the polished steel lifted to trace your jaw, the pin visible on the inside of his wrist.

To keep her close to him always.

He had stormed their stronghold but by the time he got there, they were gone. Everything.

Every vial, all the equipment, every single one of the samples and officials had disappeared into thin air.

Bakugou had tried everything to track Kiko down, paying off the highest crime organizations to get more eyes out on the street but nothing worked. She was gone.

And she wasn’t ever going to come back.

You were silent when he finished telling you his depressing life story, sure you were bored to death but when he started to get up, he found that he couldn’t get very far with you draped over his body like this.

Bakugou had a fleeting thought that you had fallen asleep while he had been lamenting and rehashing every depressing detail from his past but he noticed the stuttering rise and fall of your back.

Well, at least you weren’t asleep, but now he didn’t know how to feel when he had told you all of that and you had yet to say anything.

“I know you don’t want pity.” You whispered into his shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow but waited for you to continue.

“I know there’s nothing that I can say that would make the pain go away or bring Kiko back,” You said softly. “But I’m here for you.”

Bakugou pressed his cheek against your hair and inhaled your sweet scent, closing his eyes as an unseen weight lifted from off of his shoulders.

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly with great difficulty.

You smiled slightly, glad that you were able to provide him with a little bit of comfort. “Anytime.”

The two of you stayed entwined for a few more moments, time stretching as he held onto you, soaking up your soothing presence while you relaxed against his hold.

“Katsuki?” You called quietly when he still didn’t let go after five more minutes.

Tightening his arm around you, he frowned when you struggled in his grip.

“Stop fucking moving.” He demanded and you ceased fighting in favor of pulling back to flick him on the forehead. “Oi, did you just fucking flick me?!”

“Yes.” You replied bluntly, snickering when he rolled his eyes.

There he was.

Bakugou protested hotly when you pushed down his arms to untangle from him but you shushed him with a giggle, leaning back to open the box of beer by your bed, grabbing two bottles and fishing for something from underneath your pillow

In the underground city where liquor was the only thing that was plentiful, you would take what you could get.

Bakugou caught the beer that you threw at him in midair with an expression a mix between annoyance that you tossed it at his face and gratitude that you knew how he needed another drink after that tale.

“What the fuck is that for?” He scoffed, pointing to the roll of gauze in your hand. “You get a papercut or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief, failing to notice how his eyes raked over you to look for any kind of injury you might be hiding from him, and held it up to him. “No, but it looks like you did.”

He almost spilled his beer that he just popped the lid off of, mouth furrowing in a deep-seated frown when he followed your gaze and landed on the cuts on his knuckles from the fight that happened earlier that night.

“Fuck.” He cursed, setting down the beer hard to wipe up the blood.

He hadn’t even known when he got hurt.

But he didn’t even get started on tending to it when your gentle hands wrapped around his and you took over for him.

“Here.” You murmured, pouring some water onto a clean cloth and dabbing carefully at his cuts. “Let me.”

“You’re fucking weird.” Bakugou grumbled but allowed you to take over.

Your touch was so much lighter than the rough pads of his fingers. He was always too impatient whenever he had to patch himself up, jerking at the bandages to get them to lay flat when they wouldn’t cooperate.

It was a fucking pain to stop the bleeding when his shitty fingers fumbled with it. It was a trip to hell and back every single time he had to attend to wounds he got from boxing.

Your nose scrunched up in concentration as you finished cleaning the area before securely wrapping the soft cotton around his knuckles.

“There.” You declared in satisfaction, sitting back on your knees.

Admiring your handiwork with an unreadable expression, it was a second before Bakugou nodded begrudgingly with thanks.

“It’s not complete shit.”

You giggled. “Thanks.”

He picked back up his drink and took a swig.

Offering up yours, you hid your surprise when he actually recognized the gesture and clinked his glass against yours.

The distinct hum from the music in the establishment below filtered up to the roof, filling the silence and the occasional echo of steel grating against each other. The low lights were pleasant and the ambiance was soothing as you two drank away the night.

You shivered, catching a chill as the night air blew by, but before you could reach for your blanket, Bakugou was tucking you in his side.

“Get over here, dumbass.” He mumbled, turning his face away so that you wouldn’t see his blush. “You’re gonna get fucking sick.”

You noticed how he still kept your metal arm away from you. That wound was still too fresh and somehow you had a feeling that no matter how much time would pass, things would never quite be the same again.

Playing with the hem of your dress, you smiled softly. “But I wanted to wear it today, it was a special occasion.”

Special occasion his ass. It was fucking freezing out here and all you were wearing was that summer dress. His brow knitted as you puffed out your cheeks, breath visible, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave you out here when it was so cold out.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized quietly as you lost interest in toying with the pale blue satin and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

At your questioning gaze, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but heat crept up his neck.

“For storming out on the celebration you planned, dumbass.” He grumbled, flicking you on the forehead in a similar fashion hat you had done earlier.

Whining, you held onto your forehead as you made an exaggeration of pain. He rolled his eyes at your antics and you giggled, snuggling further into his side.

“You’re warm.” You mused.

Bakugou scowled, cheeks still pink from the embarrassment tingling through his whole body. “Oi, are you fucking ignoring m—”

“Of course not.” You retorted, pinching his side in retaliation for the flick he gave you before your voice dropped a little. “It’s just— There isn’t anything you need to apologize for. I understand.”

Those words, they were so simple and yet, warmth bloomed in his chest from how they fell from your lips.

And he could see that you were truly genuine.

He had rejected your kindness earlier when Kirishima had told him you had planned out all of this for him. He had never quite been accustomed to generously that lacked a price or some kind of condition.

Then again, he had never met someone quite like you.

As you rested against his shoulder, Bakugou took the empty beer bottle from you and placed it on the other side of him so that you didn’t break it and cut yourself when you woke up from your little nap.

He gazed out into the city that had caused him so much misery and wondered how it was even possible for someone like you to exist.

Birthdays, he still hated them, but maybe, just maybe, he could start to heal.

It would start by telling that old man that you fucking needed a new place to sleep that wasn’t the goddamn roof.

It was a good thing he knew just the place you could go.

Brushing back the hair out of your eyes, he allowed a small smile to form on his face as you breathed softly, evenly and he smirked against the top of your head as a thought crossed his mind. And even though he knew you couldn’t hear him, he still murmured quietly.

“How do you feel about seagulls and sand, princess?”

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

Text

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first:

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense.

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go.

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it.

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit.

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world.

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

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

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

#good omens #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #good omens fic #guess who spent 48 hours doing nothing but writing and formatting #can I get a wahoo

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poormeowmeowcollector · 4 years ago

Text

Under the moonlight

Relationship: Loki/Gender Neutral Reader (on college)

Warnings: straight up fluff

Summary: The quarantine has made all the days look the same. Loki knows that this day is special, and makes sure you'll know too

Notes: how can I not write a birthday fic? And post it on the day of my actual birthday (29/1)? And not seize the opportunity to rant about how online classes are killing me? Huh, how? And @lucywrites02 and I had manifested a forest date, it was too awesome to stay out of the party. It also had murder in it, but perhaps the next time.

Read On AO3

Like every day since that damned March, you wake up from this awful alarm sound and close it. You drag yourself out of the bed and into the bathroom, your brain still asleep. It needs to be bribed with coffee to start acting like a brain at this point.

You walk in the empty kitchen, you're the only one up this early, make the coffee and some cereal on a bowl and return to your bedroom.

Usually, you would try to pay attention to the professor speaking through your laptop, but today you can't find the energy. So, you end up scrolling on your phone, focused on neither of the screens.

Soon enough, your head is staying up because of your hands holding it. You sigh and check at the time, it's probably the end of the period.

And… you've gone through the first ten minutes.

That's it. You'll leave your bones in front of this laptop.

Time passes slowly and torturously, until two cold hands cover your eyes.

"Good morning too, Lokes," you force a smile. His hands retreat as they slither beside you.

"Do you mind if I sit with you, darling? With a teacher like this one, you will need someone to keep you from sleeping on your keyboard," they grin and point at the screen, the slow and low speaking of the history teacher echoing.

He's not wrong and you know it, so you nod. They pull a chair and sit on your left, eyes still on you.

"So… do you plan something for the evening?" he asks, their big eyes and smile trying to distract you from the battle between his fingers. You still take his right hand and cup it with your left.

"No, why should I?" You shrug one shoulder, staring at the God like the class doesn't exist.

"You shouldn't. I mean, you should. Eh, if you want to, of course, no forcing! I-I…" they rumble before giving up with a sigh, cheeks bright red, "just curious,"

You smile and cup his face, trying to brush the blush away with your thumb. "You know, I think that your silver tongue has caught some rust," you hum.

"Shut up," he releases his hand to softly snack yours away, failing to hide a grin.

"Just because you're pretty," you laugh. They nod, letting you pay attention to the class.

But they only do so for five minutes.

"When is this over?" he whines.

"The period ends in an hour and the day ends in three periods," You give them the Pain™ smile, he knows which one.

"By the Gods in Valhöll, how can you do that every day?" they let their neck throw the head back, the chair turning around and around.

"Half of the class is asleep and the other half is either running on coffee or has an IV with Monster. Which, by the way, sounds tempting…" you trail off the last bit.

He sighs and stays silent for the rest of the class. The silence stays until the periods are over, but you decide to dump your chair and sit on Loki's lap after some minutes on the second period. They looked quite bored and your attention needed to be elsewhere, but can you just leave him like that?

While they had zoned out, you finally checked the date. How could you forget you have your birthday?

Or, the biggest question, since Loki obviously knows about it and plans something, what is this something?

This question stays with you and lets you torment it for several hours. You talk to Wanda and Natasha and even Thor about it and no one knows a thing.

The sun is down, you have eaten the cake but it's definite that Loki hasn't gotten his plan to action. They're trying to make your curiosity go mad, you know that. And holy shit, it's working.

"Darling. I want to go for a walk. Do you mind accompanying me?" Loki asks you out of the blue.

"You know I can't get out," you sigh. You weren't much of a person that would be out 24/7, but since the quarantine, you stopped going out at all. Well, someone has to actually do social distancing.

"We won't be somewhere crowded, I promise. Please," they deploy the puppy eyes. Usually, those cheap tactics don't work on you. But you can't resist him.

"Fine. But only if we don't get close to people," you sigh.

"Fantastic! I love you so much, darling! Get some layers on, it's going to be cold," they beam and blow a fast kiss on your lips before disappearing, probably too grab your coat.

Well, it's January, of course it's cold…

You sigh and dress up with your warmest clothes (pants are hard, as usual) before meeting him in the lobby.

"We're going to teleport there, okay?" They explain. You nod, even though teleportation is not exactly your favourite. But, he has something on his mind and you gotta follow the plan for it to pan out, right?

They offer you a hand, which you gladly take. A second after, you're in the middle of a forest.

You cover yourself with your hands and gaze around. The location is far enough from any city. All the stars the clean sky has to offer are visible, the small winter moon shining above you, just a day after the full moon. You're standing on a small clearing, the nature around you without any animal but still beautiful. It's not snowing, so the grass and trees are in their full darkness, only the moon offering light in the scene.

Right in front of you, on the grass, there is a blanket spreaded. Two glasses, a bottle of wine and a cake on top of it.

"Happy birthday, my love," Loki whispers, they don't need to be loud to be heard against the silence.

You throw yourself into the tightest embrace possible, saying 'thank you's and'I love you's like they're prayers. He chuckles and cups your face, their fingers pulling away a few hair.

You let yourself gaze at how the moonlight illuminates their features, the pale skin glowing and this magical shimer dancing in their green eyes. "I believe we should blow your candles," he is still whispering. You agree and sit down on the blanket, watching as they take out the cake and make green flames of seiðr appear on the wicks.

Instead of the happy birthday song, Loki decides to sing something of Asgard. Of course you don't understand a thing and Loki's heavy accent makes it impossible to sing along, but it's the most beautiful song you've ever heard.

They end with a soft note and nod towards the cake. You don't even second guess your wish before you blow the candles.

A cool hand brings you closer to him as he cuts two generous pieces and gives you one.

A week ago, you talked to them about a nice recipe on a blue velvet cake you had found. He didn't like it at all. Yet, the cake in front of you is the blue velvet, and you are sure that Loki had baked it. They have this thing with baking and cooking, they make the thing theirs, no matter how simple.

"It's perfect. Everything is perfect!" you beam and kiss him before he has a chance of eating a second bite. They smile through the kiss and afterwards, resting their forehead on yours.

"Only the best things for my beloved," he breathes out, the air warming up your face. Their fingers take the small fork from your hand and give you a second piece of the cake.

"Eat the piece before we open wine," they instruct. You obey and consume the piece, but slow enough to enjoy it. Loki ends at the same time and steals yet another kiss from you before opening the bottle of your favourite wine.

You keep eating, drinking, kissing and stargazing for hours, smiling at each other whenever there's eye contact. You don't know how, but the wine is getting on Loki as well, making his cheeks reddish and the giggles more. They're adorable, but you love them sober or not.

The next day, you wake up on your warm bed, above a cold body that holds you close.

#loki/reader #loki marvel #loki #marvel fluff #loki fluff #one shot #fluff #birthday fluff #birthday fic #birthday #quarantine #online classes #tooth rotting fluff #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfiction #fanfiction

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puckngrind · 4 years ago

Text

What’s In a Name: Finale- J. Toews

Chapter 16.

Where we left off: Jon and Bekah got married in Sedona and are off to their honeymoon after the Blackhawks convention.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 4,390

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Final.

When Jon finally let it slip they were honeymooning in Iceland after the convention, Bekah was unsure of her husband’s thought process. She expected some beach vacation with their own bungalow but what she got was way more their style. They stayed up to take in the midnight sun, snorkeled in a fault line, skinny dipped in a natural hot spring and made out like no one was watching under a waterfall. They were so hot for each other the couple even missed a guided tour simply because they lost track of time and didn’t get out of bed. Married life was good even with the season starting. Right before training camp Jon drops a package on the counter and retreats to the fridge.

“Tae, whatcha order?” Bekah sipped one her later afternoon coffee.

“Rings.” Jon’s voice echoed from inside the fridge.

“Huh?”

“Take a look Beks.” Jon closes the door and motions towards the package. Inside were maybe a dozen or more silicone bands. “For practice and games, working out... you know when I have the potential of ripping off my finger with the real one.”

“Jon, you didn’t have to... I mean, it’s fine if you go ringless at work.” Bekah sips her coffee and smiles. “As long as you only come home to me.” Jon rounded the counter, pulls out one of the silicone bands, removes his wedding ring and places it on his left ring finger.

“It’s only been you since 2015, Beks, and it will only be you until the day I die.” His lips press firmly onto hers. “I want to have the constant reminder that I have the best wife ever to come home to.” His lips graze hers again.

“Not sure I deserve that reward yet, maybe in a year?” Bekah giggles into Jon’s skin.

Brynn came with Derek when the Blue Jackets played in Chicago. The two hadn’t seen each other since they left Arizona in July. “I still cannot believe you two are married, so damn in love it’s sick, and have these breathtaking wedding pictures already hanging up. I think it took a month to even get our proofs back let alone a framed picture and you have this on a giant canvas.” Brynn’s finger points to Bekah’s favorite picture. Jon’s arms wrapped her, lips pressed to her cheek as her vail flies in the wind. The fact that she doubted being about to get to the spot where they took the picture is funny looking back. She was thankful Jon pushed for it.

It was Christmas before they knew it. The families decided to give the newlyweds the actual holiday to themselves again and came together the weekend before. Bekah told Jon there better not be any surprise gifts in, on, or under the tree. On Christmas Eve she came down the steps to see a blanket laid out in front of the tree with the fire going.

“What’s this Tae?” She kisses her husband who looked pleased with himself.

“I thought we should have our own Christmas tradition that we could do when we have kids.” He dips down and scoops up the wine glasses. “Maybe without the wine.” Bekah sips her glass and takes in the small details Jon put into this picnic.

“Sounds perfect!” They sat down and talked all about the holidays, break, and how the season was going.

“I know you are going home for New Years but very much want my wife with me in Calgary to ring in 2020.” Jon stands to move the plates and wine glasses.

“J, I don’t see why I couldn’t just cut my home trip short?” Bekah leans on her hands watching Jon’s reaction.

“Really? I know you miss it.” He kneels next to her.

“Not as much as I did. Plus, I want to ring in 2020 with you just didn’t want to mess up team bonding.” Jon laughs a little and moves his body on top of hers.

“I think the guys will understand why.” Jon presses his lips to hers and Bekah moans out.

“Wanna go upstairs?” She whispers when their lips break for air.

“Fuck no.” Jon lifts up and pulls off both of their clothes wasting no time making sure Bekah was ready before pressing into her. His movements were slow and intentional. Pulling Bekah’s legs high up so she had to move her hands from pulling at his back to holding her legs up. Jon humming in pure love of the moment. Taking in their highs together Jon still holding tight into his wife.

“So is this also a Christmas tradition there, Tae?” Bekah’s breaths were short as she laughed.

“I think so. Maybe before Santa arrives.” He snickers as he lifts up and grabs another blanket to wrap around them.

“Is Santa coming to our house this year? Dropping off any surprises?” Bekah combs her fingers through Jon’s hair as he lays on her chest.

“Nope. Well, house hunting...” Jon felt Bekah’s reaction to his statement. “We can stay here if you want. It’s up to you.”

They didn’t. Soon after Jon and Bekah returned from Columbus and Calgary the couple found the perfect house close to the city. Moving during the season seemed to be a daunting task but Bekah managed to get the essentials unpacked and hired painters and such to make their home feel like them. All-Star weekend the couple found themselves at home in Winnipeg.

“Beks?” Jon called out after coming in from a run. Bekah told Jon she was going to make cookies while he was gone. “Babe?” He wandered the house and sees her still with her shoes on in bed asleep. He sits down next to her and brushes the hair out of her face. “You okay?” His eyebrows knit together knowing his wife was not a nap type of person however many times he begged her to nap pre-game with him.

“Yeah, just got super tired that’s all.” Bekah’s voice was groggy.

“Yeah, you left the dough out on the counter.” Jon slips back behind her. “Do you think you are coming down with something?” He presses his lips to the back of her head.

“I don’t think so. Maybe... oh... well. Um. Shit. What day is it?” Bekah lifts up suddenly.

“The 23rd. Why Bekah?” Jon sits up behind her.

“I’m two weeks late.” Bekah’s hand covers her mouth realizing what that could mean.

“You mean like late late? As in...” Jon’s arms wrap around Bekah.

“Like maybe you would go get a test... or three.” She looks back at him and she shuffles to his feet and heads to the store. The smell of cookies hit his nose when he walked back in the door. Bekah icing the batch that had cooled.

“So, I know we said we would let nature take its course but that was in November.” Bekah nods, licks the icing off her finger and grabs the bag.

The two waited for the longest two minutes of their lives sitting on the bathroom floor. Bekah’s head rested on Jon’s shoulder. Jon’s hand picked up the stick from the counter. “Ready...” he whispers and Bekah’s shoulders shrug. “Pregnant. Beks!” Jon’s voice picked up and he jumped to his feet placing the test on the counter and scooping his wife into his arms kissing her skin as he walks.

“Tae, what are you doing?” Bekah questions.

“Celebrating knocking my sexy wife up in the first try!” Jon drops Bekah onto the bed and crowds her. Ridding himself of his shirt and pulling on hers.

“It could be a false positive.” Bekah’s hands land on Jon’s chest.

“It’s not.” Jon retorts. “For as long I’ve known you, your cycle has been the most predictable thing about you.” Jon manages to pull Bekah’s shirt off and kisses down to her stomach. “Salut bébé, c'est ton papa.” He whispers into her skin the looks up to see Bekah’s face. “Sorry, maybe I should...” Jon goes to move thinking he changed the mood and Bekah’s hands catch his shoulders.

“Tae, that was a damn turn on. Please... continue.” Jon winks up at her and presses his tongue to her folds lapping up how incredibly wet she was. Bekah’s orgasm ripping through her body like a ball of fire. Her body jolting up away from his mouth which was still working it’s magic.

“Holy shit. J, I need more.” Bekah panted out and Jon’s mouth met her chest as he laid her back down pressing his length deep inside eliciting moans as he rocked.

“Oh. Beks. Beks. I...” Jon huffs as Bekah pulls her body up into his and feels him explode deep inside of her sending shockwaves through out her body. “I love you.” Jon whispers while crashing into her body.

“Same but you are crushing my pelvis.” Bekah wiggles and Jon jumps off her quickly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You are carrying our child.” His hand grazes her stomach.

“Potentially. I need to schedule an appointment for when we are back.” She reaches for her phone and Jon’s hand catches her arm.

“Does your brain ever shut off My Love?” Jon kisses her. “No is the answer. And I want to go. Can you schedule around me?”

Soon after their return home, Jon and Bekah found themselves in her OBGYN’s office listening to their child’s heartbeat. A tear streaming down Jon’s face as Bekah held his hand tight. On the drive home, Bekah broke the comfortable silence. “Can we wait to tell people including family until the second trimester?” Jon’s thumb rubs the back of her hand as he drives.

“Whenever you want Beks.” Jon’s delight evident in his tone.

“I want to tell Rin first but don’t exactly know how.” Bekah inhales quickly as Jon sighs. Brynn and Derek would be the perfect parents but after too many miscarriages to count and an undetermined infertility diagnosis they just stopped trying. Getting pregnant so quickly was going to crush her best friend and she knew it. She watched Brynn at coworker’s baby showers. She hid the pain well but Bekah saw it.

She wanted to tell her best friend in person. What she didn’t expect was the pause and quarantine. Jon came home early March talking about the NHLPA and on the phone not realizing Bekah was laying in the middle of the floor. He stands over her and smiles. “My beautiful wife okay down there?”

“Fat wife that is. And no. They said you could have morning sickness and mine was mid-afternoon sickness which is for the birds THEN they said you feel better in your second trimester and welp... my body feels like I ran a damn marathon and I just moved the rug three feet over. How was your discussion with those people?” Bekah waves her hand around and Jon laughs.

“They want to start zoom calls so I have to think where I could do it here. Plus I think we can go home to Manitoba for a bit if you feel already.”

“Yeah, do it in the kitchen so you don’t have the blow job angle your team Canada buddy did yesterday. I need to call Rin. My body isn’t hiding this baby much longer.” Jon lays down next to her and kisses her cheek.

“Blow job angles. Funny. I don’t need anyone but you thinking of that.” He rolls her body on top of his and she sits up with his hands on her hips. “And you, Mrs. Toews and more beautiful now than the day we met.” Jon’s thumbs rub the small bump appearing on her lower abdomen.

Bekah buzzed around the house while Jon sat on the zoom call. She dropped her phone when she heard him answer the question about what he’s been up to since the last game. After the call ended she stands next to him. “When is that call being published?” Bekah asks with an annoyance in her voice.

“They said in a few days, why Beks?” Jon pulls her into his lap.

“Because you just fucking told the world I’m pregnant and I haven’t even told our families.” Jon’s eyes blow wide.

“Oh fuck! I... I... I didn’t even think about it.” His hand covers his face.

“I need to go FaceTime Rin.” Bekah kissed her regretful husband and retreated to their bedroom.

“How’s my bestie doing in quarantine?” Brynn didn’t even say hi. “What’s that face for?” Bekah sighed.

“I wanted to do this in person so I could hold your hand but damn Covid and shit.” Bekah starts.

“You are pregnant aren’t you?” Brynn pulls a smile across her face.

“How did ya?” Bekah’s eyebrow shoots up. “I am. Due mid-September.”

“I knew you looked different in December but couldn’t place it. You were barely pregnant weren’t you?” Brynn feels the tears coming.

“Yeah. Rin. I... I... I’m sorry.” Bekah whispers.

“Bekah, you don’t have to be sorry. I’m so happy for you and cannot wait to be Auntie Rin!” Brynn wipes her eyes.

“Oh Rin.” Bekah sniffles. “I didn’t know how you would take this.” The friends talked a little more before Bekah hung up and called Kelly who squealed while jumping then realized Bekah’s odd questions in February were pregnancy related. When she returned to Jon he was laying on the couch she asked him to move. “Your parents or mine first?”

“Together?” Jon laughed and they both FaceTimed their mom’s who were overjoyed at the news about being grandparents. Marie had tons of questions regarding Bekah and the baby’s safety while the Toews were busy talking to Jon about their trip home and if Bekah would be safe on the lake’s ice.

With permission from her doctor, the couple returned to Canada and Jon enjoyed rare times with his family but soon realized the couple needed to return to the states. Jon was constantly on the phone with negotiations about return to play throughout the summer. Laying in bed one night with his head on her growing belly, Bekah could feel he was holding something back.

“Tae, talk. What’s up? She ran her hands through his growing hair that she secretly loved while everything was shut down.

“We’ve been talking about a return to play and that players could opt out. I think I should since with the baby coming. I would be gone for most of your last trimester.” Jon kisses and turns his attention. “Momma won’t let me open the envelope that says if you are a boy or girl. Maybe you could help me out, huh?” Bekah laughs hard that her belly moves.

“I told you with everything else the way it is having a little surprise wouldn’t hurt anyone. We bought the essentials and Kelly swears her kids were in the white onesies, or naked and wrapped up in a blanket for the first few weeks. Eating, pooping, and sleeping.” Jon looks up resting his chin on her stomach.

“Fine. I’ll wait. We already have enough Hawks stuff to last about a week. Plus the girls are ready to socially distance pounce on you once the baby does come. I do have an important question for you?”

“Yeah?”

“When is sex off the table?” He bites his lip and Bekah shakes her head.

“Depends on how I feel and where the baby is plus you don’t want to induce labor too early.”

“Soooo.... we can still?” Jon’s eyebrows dance.

“You want to sex this up? With my swollen ankles and clothes that no longer fit...”

“You don’t need clothes for what I want to do with you.” Jon lays next to his wife and pulls her face to his. “You are beautiful.” He deepens his kiss and she moans.

“I just look fat Tae.” Bekah recoils. “Plus, I need a shower.” She moves and Jon follows.

“I’ll join you.” He pulls her body into his while walking to their shower.

“You seriously want to have sex with me?” She looks at her naked body in the mirror and over to Jon noticing he was already hard.

“Not much has changed from last week when I wore your thighs at earmuffs.” Jon turned on the shower and lead her under the water. He could physically see Bekah’s shoulders relax under the warm water. Pulling her breasts into his hands he massaged gently. “Tell me if it’s too much okay Beks” He kissed the back of her neck and his fingers found her entrance. Using the edge of the shower, Bekah pulled her leg up for easier access to her clit as Jon kissed her skin.

“Tae.” She breathed out feeling an orgasm building then she felt the baby. “Jon!” Her hand went to her stomach. “Feel.” She brought his hand to her belly and Jon felt their child kick his hand.

“Oh wow! That is maybe the coolest feeling ever.” Jon kisses Bekah and she feels his hardened cock on her back. “Does that mean we stop, because...”

“No. I want you to fuck me.” Bekah turns around and Jon pulls her body up and slides her onto his length but cannot get situated enough. “take me to be bed.” She breathed out.

“Wet?” He questioned as he pulls out.

“Yes.” She wraps her arms around him and he carries them to the bed. Laying her down carefully and pressing into her as she moves her legs to feel all of him. With just a few thrusts, Bekah’s orgasm crashes over her and she feels the baby fluttering inside. “Can I finish you off orally?” She pants.

“You don’t have to Beks. I’m fine.” She wiggled from under him and he falls onto the mattress. “Beks... really... I’m... holy fuck. Don’t stop.” Jon soon changed his mind when Bekah’s lips wrapped tight around him and he hit the back of her throat. Sliding easily up and down his length Jon breathed out his approval of her actions and quickly spilled down her throat. Bekah pops her lips and wipes her mouth as she retreats. “I have no words.” Jon huffs out and stares up at Bekah who is now rubbing her stomach.

“Now can you get up so we can change the sheets and go to bed. This momma to be is tired.” Bekah stands and Jon strips the wet bed before cuddling his wife.

With somewhat of an argument, Brynn came to Chicago as Jon entered the bubble. Jon kissed Bekah’s belly as was leaving, “You cannot make an entrance into the world until Daddy returns or Momma enters the bubble. Either way, hang out. Make sure Momma listens to Auntie Rin and cheer on the Hawks.” Jon lifts up and wraps his arms around his wife. “Tu es toujours avec moi, mes amours.” Jon kisses her then pulls away to see the tears build in her eyes. “Always with me.” Jon gives instructions to Brynn to make sure Bekah keeps to the doctor’s orders and she calls him if anything happens.

“Go kick some Oiler ass Babe!” Bekah giggles trying to contain her emotions.

“Why does he have to look so damn sexy and I cannot touch him. You know these girls are falling all over him.” Bekah watched the coverage of Jon walking into the arena while Brynn painted her toe nails.

“And that man only has eyes for you.” Brynn smiled seeing the the way Bekah contorts her face.

“Yeah, some hot ass media girl is much sexier than the fat cow he left at home.” Bekah rubs her belly that has grown to the point that she cannot see her feet.

“Sorry friend, this whole negative self talk has to be your hormones because everyone in the world knows how much that man loves you. Did you see the picture from last game? You could see your wedding picture on his lock screen.”

“Did he look that good when he left? And the way he is playing is so fucking sexy.” Bekah looks at her phone. “Sorry, baby bird. Momma will be filtering herself when you arrive next month.” Brynn laughs.

“He will call. He always does.” And like magic Bekah’s phone rings. Since entering the bubble Jon calls to talk to the baby once a day, and will call Bekah before she goes to bed and before he goes on the ice.

“There is my girl!” Jon’s voice booms out of the speaker.

“Hey Tae! Could you talk to the league and see if they could I don’t know, move your game’s start time before my bedtime?” This makes both Jon and Brynn laugh. “I watch you when I get up to pee at around 11 but I hate missing the games live.

“Sure, I’ll just call Gary myself and request a game time change.” The three laugh.

“I love you, Tae. Good luck tonight and go kick some ass.” She kisses at the phone.

“I love you, two.” He blows her a kiss and hangs up to the sounds of heaving coming from Bekah’s feet.

“Yeah, if they lose and he comes home I foresee your labor starting.”

“Rin, that would be a month early!” Bekah squeaks out.

“I call it like I see it. And that man is gonna want his wife when he returns.” Bekah covered her eyes then starts googling sex in the third trimester.

Jon was home three and a half weeks after he left for Edmonton. Brynn stayed through the week and then drove back to Ohio with the promise she would be back when Baby Toews was born. Bekah’s due date came and she was still pregnant.

“This baby is NEVER leaving.” Bekah walked the stairs for the 10th time that day.

“You’ve made it comfortable. They want to stay FOREVER.” Jon laughs while he indulges in his dessert concoction he only eats off season.

“I think I’ve tried everything but sex.” Bekah leans on the counter and presses her hips back to relive the pressure. Jon drops the spoon from his mouth.

“Well, I can fucking help with that.” He pulls Bekah’s arm and practically pushes her up the stairs. Leaning against the headboard he pats his lap. “Climb aboard the let’s meet our baby Jonny train.” He laughs and Bekah scoffs.

“Your dad jokes are just gonna get worse, aren’t they?” She removes her shorts and climbs onto Jon’s lap.

“Yup! Now, can we get rid of this?” He pulls off her old t-shirt that is stretched around her belly. “And can I play with these? I don’t think they will belong to me soon.” Jon leans up to suck in her nipple while cupping her other breast. Bekah lets go of a gasp.

“Too much.” She whispered and lifts herself up. Jon’s hands hold her helps as she lowers herself onto his length. She presses her hips forward with a sound that was both pleasure and pain. “It’s not gonna take much to make me.” “Oh good. Me either.” Jon pulls her hips forward as her belly hits his abs. He thrusts slightly up and Bekah goes to move.

“I think if we stand.” She stands to her feet and Jon comes behind her.

“Ready?” He whispered and she nods. The grunts and moans fill the room quickly. The pain of her hips and full term baby sitting on her organs was forgotten as their highs crash over them. Jon leans over and kisses her shoulder blades while he pulls out. The two stand there for a moment evening out their breaths. “Beks, did you just pee?” Jon jumps back.

“No. My water just broke.” Bekah turns and gives Jon a look. “I need to shower I cannot give birth smelling like sex.” Jon laughs.

“You do that, I’ll go load the car. Unless you need me?” He had slight panic sound in his voice that was laced with excitement. Bekah giggled as she waddled to the shower and Jon grabbed the bags out of the nursery Brynn helped finish while he was gone.

The hospital was waiting for them as they arrived. Jon started a group text to their moms, Brynn, Kelly, and Alyssa. Jon sat in the rocking chair waiting for her next contraction. “You are a rockstar you know?” Bekah looks over at him while flipping the channel on the tv. “Nothing like the movies or tv. You haven’t called me a bastard or anything.” He smirks at her.

“While I don’t plan on it... I have pushed this giant headed Toews baby out my vagina yet.” Bekah sees Jon’s Adam’s apple bob. “And for the sake of our sex life, maybe you shouldn’t watch.” Jon stands and hold her hand preparing for the next contraction. She squeezes.

“Oh no, I want to see it all. Cut the cord. And I’ll still find you sexy as hell. You are bringing our child into the world. I will be impatiently waiting for the doctor to clear you.” Bekah rolls her eyes as the doctor comes in.

“It’s go time here!” The doctor looks up and Jon and and Bekah look each other with excitement. Bringing a child into the world during a pandemic was difficult but when the moment came and it was just the two of them there was a calmness washed over them. Bekah crushed Jon’s hand and forearm pushing but he didn’t mind. When the doctor said one more for the shoulders, Jon leaned over his wife’s leg and watched the most incredible thing in the entire world. In a spilt second his world completely changed.

“Tae, is it a boy or a girl?” Bekah whispers out of breath looking at Jon’s face and the tears welling up.

“It’s a boy, Beks.” He was handed the scissors and cut the cord. The nurse patted him dry and goes to hand him to Bekah. “Daddy holds him first.” She points and the nurse places Jon’s son in his arms.

“Time of birth, 1am, September 19th.” The nurse announces.

“It’s the 19th, Jon!” Bekah looks up at Jon as he passes the baby to his wif. She holds her son to her chest and kisses his head.

“Does baby boy Toews have a name?” The doctor asks as the couple looks at each other and in unison answer...

“Lincoln.”

The End.

#What's in a name fic #WIAN #WIAN finale #tazer me 19 #love a damn blackhawk 🤦🏻‍♀️#jonathan toews #Jonathan Toews fic #j toews #happens in the 2019-2020 season

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kinglazrus · 5 years ago

Text

A Helping Hand

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @trainernick: Lancer telling Danny he knows his secret and admitting trying to help him throughout high school (maybe at prom or graduation) - wholesome found family

Summary: Everyone says prom is supposed to be one of the best nights of Danny's life. And even though he wrecks his suit, ditches his date, and gets attacked by Skulker, it sort of is. But not for the reasons everyone says it should be.

When Lancer sees his student feeling low, he does what he can to make sure Danny knows there are always people rooting for him.

Hurt/comfort

Word count: 3923

People like to talk about milestones. They divide their lives into neat little segments and mark the years with special occasions. First steps, first words, first day of school, first car, first kiss, first job. Lots of firsts. They're important. But they aren't the be-all, end-all of those experiences. People keep talking after their first word. They keep walking after their first steps. They continue to learn, and drive, and kiss—if they're into that sort of thing—and work, and work, and work until that's all they ever do.

The firsts matter, but they don't matter so much that you can never do any of those things ever again.

Some milestones can't be repeated, though. Or, at least, people build them up so much and make such a big deal out of it that even if you can repeat it, it'll never be the same. They make it sound like if you do it wrong then you'll never get to do it right. That's how Danny feels about prom.

It doesn't matter how often he tells people there will be other parties, that this won't be the only time he ever dances with his peers, that this won't even be his only prom because he probably won't be able to graduate this year. Prom is big. Prom is important. Prom is special. He has to do it right or else he'll never get to do it again.

Danny tries his best.

He gets a date, one of his best friends, Sam. It takes him a few weeks to ask her out, because he can't figure out how to do it. He wastes hours writing out what he wants to say. Four days before prom, he sees Sam in the middle of a ghost fight, grinning like mad, hoisting a bazooka on her shoulder, ectoplasm stuck in her hair, and Danny blurts the question out right there because holy shit she's beautiful. It totally throws all his careful, romantic planning out the window, but she still says yes.

He gets a suit. Black jacket, black shirt, purple vest, purple tie, because he thinks Sam will like it. She calls him a dork as soon as she sees him in it, which means she does like it, very much so. He gets a corsage of blue poppies for Sam's wrist, to go with his boutonniere. He gets Jazz and Dani to watch the city for the night so that nothing will distract him from the dance.

He does everything he can to make sure he does prom right. But, in the end, he still gets in a ghost fight.

Danny leans his head back against the wall of the shower stall in the boys' locker rooms. His lungs burn, his body aches, and his knuckles are bruised. The water's turned up as hot as it can go. It succeeds in getting the worst ectoplasm out—cold water would have set the stains—but now he's completely soaked, and his suit is still ripped.

Looking down, he catalogues the damage, both to his body and his rental suit. A gash on his right shoulder to go with the torn seam of the sleeve. The left sleeve is ripped from cuff to elbow, his cufflink lost somewhere on the street outside. There's a matching slice in his arm, stretching from his palm around to the outside of his elbow.

The cut stings in the hot water, same with the wound on his shoulder, and he should probably take care of both before he loses too much blood. But he has a couple minutes to spare.

His pants got out of the fight okay, minutes a little tearing on the knees, the skin beneath scraped and red. He doesn't think the store is going to take the suit back.

There's a knock on the stall door and Danny lifts his head. Through the foggy glass, he sees Tucker.

"You good, man?" Tucker asks.

Danny swallows, glad he doesn't taste blood. Skulker really held nothing back today. He calls back, "Yeah, I'm good. Suit's a little torn, though."

"Why'd you fight in your suit?" Tucker asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"I think Skulker borrowed some of Vlad's tech. He shorted out my powers for a little bit, but," Danny raises his hand and forms a swirling ball of ectoplasm in his palm, "they're back now."

"Okay. Lancer's doing a headcount. I told him you had gone to the bathroom just before Skulker showed up, so I'll let him know you're safe."

"Thanks. I won't be long."

Tucker's silhouette does finger guns and he clicks his tongue twice, then leaves. Danny waits until he hears the locker room door closing before he stands up. The ectoplasm in his hand turns blue, its temperature dropping a few degrees, and he drags his palm along the cut on his left arm. Ice seeps over the wound, sealing it shut and stopping the bleeding. It also works fantastically at numbing the entire limb so it doesn't hurt to move.

After rotating his arm a few times, testing its mobility, he does the same to the gash on his right shoulder. It's only a temporary measure, until he can get home and get Jazz to help stitch him back up. Sam and Tucker used to be in charge of doing that, but Jazz is by far the better seamstress, and leaves fewer scars behind.

Danny shuts the water off and heads toward the lockers. Rather than going for his own locker, he stops in front of Tucker's. Danny usually has extra clothes for emergencies like this, but he used them last week and hadn't brought them back since. Tucker keeps a few spares, though, because of the last few times Dash and Kwan stole his clothes while he was in the shower.

Turning his hand intangible, Danny sticks it through the locker door and grabs a shirt from the top shelf. When he pulls his hand out the shirt unfurls, and he stiffens.

"You've got to be kidding me," he says. It's a black button-up shirt, which is perfect. But it's also covered cartoonish pictures of Danny Phantom's face. Reaching back into the locker, he tries to find another, but this is the only one. He could use his gym shirt, but he needs the long sleeves to hide his left arm.

With a groan, Danny strips, laying his jacket, vest, tie, and shirt out on the benches. He and Tucker are around the same size, so the shirt fits, for the most part. It's a little tight across the shoulders and bites into his skin when he bends his arms, but it'll do. As long as he doesn't get into another fight and tear this shirt up, too.

Danny pulls his jacket and vest back on, although he does neither up, and drapes his shirt across his arm. With his left hand facing down, you can't even he's injured. Minus the scrapes on his knees, but if anyone asks, Danny will just say he tripped running away from the ghost

When he exits the locker room, Danny looks left and right, checking to make sure the hallway is clear before slipping out. His wet shoes squeak on the floor, and water drips from his hair onto his nose. He probably should have tried drying off. Especially since the water from his jacket is now seeping into Tucker's shirt. But, Fentons are stubborn, and Danny's already on his way back to the gym.

Prom posters featuring smiling members of the dance committee stair down at him as he walks, silently judging him. Their blank eyes follow his every move. Somehow, Danny feels like he's failed them.

He expects the dance to be back in full swing by the time he makes it back, because Casper High is just like that sometimes, but he couldn't be more wrong. The music has stopped. No one's dancing. There's a massive hole in the outside wall, letting in the cool night air. A wave of shame rolls through Danny as he remembers he did that.

His gaze drifts up to the ceiling, where there's another, smaller hole. That's where Skulker burst through, shouting about the glory of capturing his prey on such a momentous occasion. Seconds later, Danny blasted him through the wall and took off after him. Without even a single glance back at the chaos he'd caused.

Paulina, Star, and other members of the dance committee hustled about, directing people to help with the cleanup so they could get things started again. City protocol said to wait for an official cleanup crew, but this was prom, damn it, and Paulina wasn't about to let a couple ghosts ruin her chances of getting crowned queen.

He finds Sam and Tucker quickly. They're helping Elliott move one of the larger chunks of concrete. The front of Sam's dress is covered in dust and her corsage it crushed.

Another wave of guilt pushes Danny out the door. He backs into the hallway, gives the ruined dance one last look, then turns and heads for the front door. There's no point sticking around and risk ruining things even more.

The cold air and his wet clothes shill Danny to the bone when he gets outside, but he doesn't mind. The benefits of having an ice core means he can weather the cold better than most people. But, being half-human still, he's not infallible. Danny sits down on the front steps, slipping his hands into his pockets, and sighs. Maybe he should just go home.

Since Danny doesn't have his license—he never had time, with all the ghost fighting—Tucker gave Sam and Danny a ride. So, if he does leave, he won't be abandoning Sam without a way home. Going for a fly sounds pretty nice right now. There's not much he can screw up when he's miles above the city. Although, if anyone could find a way, it would be him.

The only thing he can ever seem to do right is fight ghosts. It's not too late to make a career out of it. At this point, it's basically his job already, and it'd be nice to get paid for it. Maybe the G.I.W. are hiring.

Danny laughs. It's a bitter, self-deprecating sound.

"They'd probably cut me open first," he tells the open air.

"Modern Prometheus, Mr. Fenton, that's quite the accusation."

"Holy sh–" Danny jumps, nearly toppling off the step, and whips around to see Lancer behind him. "Mr. Lancer! Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Checking on my student," Lancer says. "I wasn't satisfied with Mr. Foley's assurances and wanted to make sure you were safe myself."

He steps forward and looks down at Danny, frowning. "Are you... dripping, Mr. Fenton?"

"Uh." Danny glances down at his soaked clothes. "I fell in a puddle."

"While you were in the bathroom?"

"I went for a walk and then fell in a puddle."

"It hasn't rained in three weeks," Lancer says.

"So crazy, right?" Danny chuckles. He silently wills Lancer to go away, preferring to be alone right now. Instead, Lancer does the complete opposite and sits down next to Danny.

"Is something bothering you?" he asks.

"What makes you think that?"

"I've worked with teenagers for a long time, Mr. Fenton. I can tell when things aren't okay. And I think, by now, your tells are somewhat obvious to me."

Danny refuses to meet Lancer's gaze. He's probably the last person Danny wants to see right now. Not because he hates Lancer, but because he cares too much what Lancer thinks. While he didn't like the man much during freshman year, things changed over time. Lancer started actually believing in Danny. He's the only teacher who never gave up on him, who always had their door open.

Lancer even leant Danny his ear on more than one occasion. Danny tried to avoid this as much as possible, but there were some things he just couldn't talk to his sister or friends about. And Danny's willing to admit, although somewhat grudgingly, that he's become attached to his English teacher.

"Prom's ruined," Danny finally says.

"Is that so?"

"I mean, yeah. Sk– uh, that big metal ghost dude kind of crashed the party. And then Phantom fucked it all up."

"Language," Lancer says. He gives Danny a critical look. "Why are you blaming Phantom?"

"He kind of destroyed a whole wall. He could have just, I don't know, thrown the ghost back through the hole that was already there?" If only Danny had thought of that at the time. But in his desperation to not ruin prom, he went ahead and ruined prom.

"I think Phantom did a fantastic job," Lancer says.

Danny gapes at him.

"Yes, the wall was damaged, but no one got hurt. And your classmates are displaying wonderful teamwork skills by clearing out the debris so the dance can go on. It wasn't Phantom's fault the ghost decided to interrupt," Lancer says. "Although I have to say, it's extremely lucky of us that he was so close by. In fact, it was almost like he was there before the ghost arrived."

Lancer smiles. Something about it puts Danny on edge. It's a familiar smile, a fond one. It's the smile he gives students who do exceptionally well. It's the smile he gives Danny when he does well.

"Oh, yeah. That's really lucky, yep. Must be because of how often the school gets attacked. I mean, if I were him, which I'm not, I'd probably hang around the place that gets attacked the most, too," Danny says, a little too quickly. He was cold seconds ago, but now he's uncomfortably warm.

"Which you're not," Lancer repeats slowly. His gaze is intense and critical. Danny can only bear to meet it for a few seconds before he has to look away.

He tries to distract himself, looking at the cars lined up along the street. There are a few limousines amongst them. Danny would bet his ghost half on one of them being here for the A-listers', who came together as a group rather than bringing dates. There were so many cars already parked by the time Danny and his friends got here that Tucker was forced to park his old Camaro around the block.

It's a pretty nice car, despite how old it is. A hand-me-down from Tucker's dad, they fixed it up together, making it good as new. Danny tries to picture doing something like that with his own dad. Jack would probably deck the car out in ghost weapons and stamp the word "Fenton" across it.

They could call it the Fentonmobile.

"Danny," Lancer says.

The use of his nickname gives Danny pause. Lancer never calls him Danny. It's one of his most frustrating traits. Every student is always Mr., Ms., or Mx. As annoying as it is, Danny can't deny that it feels nice at the same time. Like Lancer actually respects them as people, doesn't look down on them the way most adults do.

After everything Danny's been through, he thinks he warrants a little basic decency.

Lancer continues. "I know."

Everything stops. Every thought in Danny's head comes to a screeching halt. He stares at Lancer. Maybe he heard it wrong. Maybe he doesn't mean what Danny thinks he means. But the longer Danny stares, the longer Lancer stares right back. At first, dread fills him. His secret is blown. This is it. The G.I.W. are on their way.

That dread quickly drowns in a tidal wave of relief, because Lancer knows. And he isn't hurting Danny, or calling him a freak, or doing anything.

"You know," Danny repeats in a breathy whisper.

"I know."

Danny slops backward, burying his hands in his hair. He lets out a soft laugh. "You know. How long?"

"Almost three years now," Lancer says.

Danny's stunned into silence. Three years. That's nearly as long as he's been a ghost. He had his accident a couple months into freshman year and started fighting ghosts a few days after that.

"I," he pauses, "am a terrible liar. Aren't I?"

"I'm surprised you've lasted this long," Lancer says.

Danny laughs sharply. Sitting back up, he turns to face Lancer proper, running his hands through his hair again. It's a nervous habit he's never been able to kick. "What gave it away?"

"Your first weeks at Casper High, I thought you were a talented student with a lot of potential. You managed average grades on your first couple of assignments, but I could tell you were struggling in the environment. Not a fan of classroom learning?" Lancer asks, quirking his eyebrow.

"It's hard to focus. Sometimes," Danny admits.

"But you managed. And then you disappeared from school for two weeks. When you came back, your grades plummeted. I blamed it on the stress of your accident, at first, which I excused. But then your delinquent behaviour started."

Danny winces. He knows exactly how he looks to other people. A problem child, skipping school, not doing his assignments, barely studying. Coming to class with bruises on his knuckles. Tetslaff tried to "set him straight" once. She said some good physical activity would help him channel his issues and convinced his parents to sign him up for volleyball.

Tetslaff kicked him off the team after his third missed game.

"To me, my students are my children. I want to see them succeed in every way they can, and do what I can to make that happen. In that way, I failed you freshman year. I'm ashamed of how I reacted." Lancer pauses. He looks away from Danny, tipping his head back to search the sky instead.

Danny wonders what he's thinking. He wishes he knew.

"I'm even more ashamed of the fact that if I hadn't seen you transform, I might not have changed my attitude at all."

"You saw me transform," Danny deadpans. First Jazz, and then Paulina—although she was possessed at time, Danny still counts it—and now Lancer. How many times is this going to happen? He asks, "Where?"

"Here, at school."

Danny sputters in disbelief. "What?"

"You were in the middle of the cafeteria, Danny. You stood on a table and cried 'I'm going ghost.' I'm surprised more people didn't see you," Lancer says. He shoots Danny an amused grin.

Danny blushes, burying his face in his hands. "I thought it was cool," he mumbles into his palms. It made him feel like a superhero. Until he wizened up and stopped shouting out warnings to every ghost within earshot.

Lancer had a point, how did people not see him more often? Maybe there's an entire cult in Amity Park of people who have seen Danny transform. They could call themselves the Phentons. Or the Fantoms. Or the Keepers of the Great One. Frostbite would probably like that last name.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Danny asks.

"Because I think you need to know there are people on the sidelines who are willing to help you, who have helped you, even if you don't realize it."

"How do you mean?" Danny already knows he has people looking out for him. Jazz, Tucker, and Sam always have his back and they've helped him more than he can ever thank them for. He's going to miss Sam and Tucker next year when they move on to college and he's stuck repeated senior year.

Lancer reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, he smooths it out on his knee and passes over.

It’s a schedule for April, May, and the first week of June. Two dates are circled. April 18th, today, and June 4th, the graduation day. The weeks between are full of markings. Squinting at the thin writing, Danny reads "Packet One: Biology" written over next week. Skipping over the rest of the schedule, he finds "Packet Two: History," "Packet Three: Applied Math," all the way up to "Packet Six: English" the final week before June. They're all classes Danny is taking this year, including ones he already failed last semester.

"What is this?" Danny asks.

"A study guide, of sorts. I spoke to the other teachers about your grades. Because of 'special circumstances,'" Lancer makes finger quotes, "they agreed to give you a chance to redeem your grades. You did well on your exams overall, but it's your course work that failed you. Each of your teachers has put together a packet of bonus assignments that, if you finish successfully, will earn you a passing grade in each class."

Danny's breath hitches. "You mean..."

"With any luck, I will not be seeing you again in these halls next year."

Danny's eyes burn. He lowers his head, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. He tries to stay quiet, because the last thing he wants to do is cry in front of a teacher, but he can't help it. The tears won't stop. A few gross sobs fight their way through his hiccups. Lancer rubs Danny's back as he cries, a soothing gesture.

"Thank you," Danny says, as soon as he can gather the breath for it. He wipes his nose on his sleeve and shoots Lancer an elated grin. "I hope I don't see you here next year either."

Lancer smiles in return. "We could head back, if you'd like. The dance should be starting up again right about now. Ms. Sanchez certainly knows how to whip a cleaning crew into action. I never expected such leadership from her."

"I did kind of ditch Sam," Danny says. He hopes she's not too mad. "But I kind of need to take care of something first."

"The ghost? I always did wonder what you did with them after capturing them in your... lunchbox?"

Danny laughs and shakes his head. "It's a thermos. But, no, he'll be fine in there for a while. I actually, uh," he trails off. Sheepishly, he pulls back his left sleeve and shows Lancer his injury.

"The English Patient, Mr. Fenton, you need medical attention!" Lancer shoots to his feet, digging his phone out of his pocket.

"No hospital!" Danny shouts. He scrambles up after Lancer and covers his phone. "My body's different. They'd notice something. I just need some stitches and my healing will take care of the rest."

"That's reassuring, I suppose." Lancer lowers his phone. "I have keys to the nurse's office, and I'm no slouch with a needle."

"Oh. I can just take of it myself, at home. Or get Jazz to do it."

"Nonsense, Mr. Fenton. What kind of teacher would I be if I let you go home in that state?" Lancer beckons for Danny to follow. He only hesitates for a second before complying.

Danny doesn't want to see Lancer in these halls again, but he certainly hopes graduation won't be the last time he ever sees the man. It's nice, knowing there's another person out there who has his back. Someone who can give him a stern word when he's being stupid, and a helping hand when he's lost. It's almost father-like, now that Danny thinks about it.

He stares at Lancer's back and thinks. Lancer looks the kids of Casper High and sees them not just as students, but as his children. Danny doesn't mind looking back and seeing a parent instead of a teacher.

#phic phight #phic phight 2020 #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom #phanfic #hurt/comfort #cross-posted on ao3 #tumblroneshots

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dem-obscure-imagines · 5 years ago

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You’re Green???

Beast Boy x Reader

Prompt: Ok so Beast Boy Soulmate AU, consider the classic: you see color when you touch your soulmate. You could be a new member of the team or just someone who knows the titans. Somehow you just haven’t come in contact with him. Until one day you do and the colors go everywhere and it’s this magical moment but you’re just like “wait...you’re green???”

Note: I’m in love with Garfield Logan now??? Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. Thanks, Ryan Potter. Also, thanks for the prompts!!! This is so up my alley, you don’t understand.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.3k

Like the vast majority of the population, you were one of the people who was unable to see color. At all. The magic of the rainbow was a mystery to you and every other person who, like you, hadn’t yet met the person they were destined to spend the rest of their lives with.

Unlike the rest of the population, you were a little…different. Since the time you hit puberty, which hadn’t been all that long ago, given that you were a high school senior, you’d been able to create flames out of thin air. It was a dangerous, scary ability that had forced you into hiding your powers, which had led to the outing of your powers to your entire school, which had led you to where you were now, in the back of the T-Car.

“It can be scary at first, for sure.” Cyborg reassured from the driver’s seat, Raven sitting on his right.

“That’s what we’re here for.” Raven agreed. “The safest thing for everyone involved is that you learn how to use your powers, how to control them.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You pulled your hoodie further over your head and stared out the window as the city rolled by.

It wasn’t long until you finally got to the tower, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder.

“I’m Robin. Nice to meet you. We set up a room for you down the hall this way.” He pointed and then started walking. You read the names on the doors as you passed.

Raven, Robin, Victor, Starfire, Garfield, and finally…a blank door. Huh. Figured.

Robin tapped on the blank one and it slid aside, revealing a plain room with a few throw pillows on the bed. It would suit your needs nicely.

“Sorry it’s so…empty. You can put whatever you want in here. We figured we’d let you get settled before we—”

“It’s perfect. Thanks so much.”

“Cyborg’s making a plaque for your door. We just figured we’d see if you like it here first.”

“I get it, yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Robin stood there for an awkward moment. “I’ll, uh, let you get everything unpacked, then. Holler if you have any questions.”

“Will do.” You stepped inside and set your bag down. Unpacking only took a few minutes. You hadn’t been able to salvage much after everything had happened, and you were still in the process of getting the rest of your things back from your house. Your parents loved you, sure, but they knew it was safer for you to be with the Titans. They knew how to handle people like you.

God, why did everything have to be different now? Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Knock, knock! Welcoming committee is here!”

You turned around to find the famed Beast Boy and Starfire standing in the doorframe. Beast Boy, who had pointed ears, and a little fang that jutted out of his bottom lip, was holding a cupcake.

“It is most glorious that you’re joining the team!” Starfire sang, flying over to you and pulling you into a tight hug. You awkwardly hugged her back. “We hope you find it to feel like a home!”

“Thanks…I, uh, think I’ll fit in pretty well around here.” You giggled. Once the strong alien girl let you go, Beast Boy handed you the cupcake.

“I hope you like it. We baked them this morning. Tried to bake a whole cake, but…well…”

“Given that I have fire powers, I can definitely understand a baking mishap.” You giggled. “Thanks so much. I’m…really looking forward to getting to know all of you.”

“Speaking of, we’re having a movie night tonight! Your pick!”

“My pick. Wow, I feel special.” You smiled at the genuine kindness on their faces. You’d been apprehensive about moving to the tower, admittedly, but so far, everyone had been really nice. You were glad you’d made the decision you did. “I’ll be there. But only if there’s popcorn.”

“Would it be movie night without it?” Beast Boy joked. “See you there. Come on, Star. Cy said we’ve gotta clean up the kitchen.”

And then they left you in the quiet of your room. You sighed, turning to look out the gray window at the gray sky, blotted with gray clouds. Taking the wrapper off of the dark gray cupcake, you took a bite. Chocolate. Huh. It was good.

You had a feeling you’d like it here. A really, really good feeling.

***

Later, when dark fell, the Titans gathered in the living room. You slowly emerged from your room, tentatively walking down the hall until you found the source of the chatter, where the rest of the team was.

“Oh, sorry. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting…”

“Nonsense. Come on in. There’s a spot over there next to Gar.”

“And Gar is…”

“Me!” Beast Boy grinned, waving you over. “We don’t really use our real names with the public, I guess.”

You walked across the room and sat down next to him. “So will I get a codename, then?”

“We can figure that out later. Right now, we just need to get you settled in.”

“Alright.” You nodded, smiling.

A few minutes later, you’d picked out a movie. Gar set a bowl of popcorn between the two of you. You took a handful and happily watched along. That is, until you reached in for another handful, your hand inches from his, and the loudest siren you’d ever heard in your life went off, lights flashing.

“What the FUCK?!” You slapped your hands over your ears.

“Trouble!” Robin stood up and the others all ran out the door. It was Gar that turned around when he noticed you weren’t with them.

“Well, are you coming?”

“Uh…yeah, I guess I am?” You got up and followed him and the others. By the time you got to the scene, the city was in chaos. People were running and screaming, and in the center of it all? A giant lightning monster.

Robin lead the charge, dodging the panicked civilians and diving right into action. Cyborg hit the thing with his Cy-Cannon, but that only seemed to supercharge it.

You watched in awe as Starfire took to the sky, followed quickly by Raven, leaving only you and Gar on the ground in front of the massive thing. The gray boy next to you changed into a rhinoceros and charged.

Seeing that you were unsure of what to do, the lightning monster shot at you, blasting you with a bolt of pure electricity. It knocked you off of your feet. Oh, that was a mistake. A big mistake.

Fire boiled in your veins, hands heating as you scraped yourself up. “I haven’t had the best week, buddy. You shouldn’t have done that.”

You launched into battle with the others, adrenaline overriding every other emotion, all of the shock and confusion washed away and you felt something click inside you. This. Yes. This was what you were meant to be. A hero.

***

It felt like hours later that the threat was finally contained. You were covered in dirt and soot, your jeans even more ripped than they had been before. You huffed a sigh, sitting on the street. Before you could move to hoist yourself up and brush yourself off, a gray hand stretched out in front of you.

“Need some help?” Gar asked softly.

You nodded and slipped your hand into his, but the second you did, a jolt zapped up your arm and your eyes stung sharply. You squeezed them shut in an attempt to make them feel better, but they didn’t, not until you opened them again to find a colorful, colorful world all around you.

Looking up at Gar with wide eyes, you watched as his knees wobbled, a similar look of shock on his green features. Green. He was green.

“Holy shit, you’re green?!”

“I’m—what?” Gar looked at his hands, laughing. “I…I am! And you’re…you’re my…”

You scrambled to your feet and stood in front of him, admiring each facet of his handsome green face. “Took me long enough to find you,” you whispered.

He opened his arms, inviting you with an earnest smile, and you hugged him tightly. “I knew there was something about you…” he murmured into your ear, chuckling to himself. “Welcome to the team.”

#beast boy #beast boy x reader #beast boy imagine #garfield logan #garfield logan x reader #garfield logan imagine #teen titans #teen titans imagine

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fan-wicktion · 5 years ago

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Date Night

MASTER LIST

warnings: fluff, and that’s pretty much it :)

a/n: WOW took forever bc school, but here’s one of the stories I wrote for the 1000 follower story giveaway! I hope you guys like it!

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

Jordan leaps from the taxi and nearly trips on the curb in her haste to get inside. She’s already late, and it's raining on top of everything else. Slightly damp and wild eyed, she bursts into restaurant. I hope he’s not mad…

When she spots his dark form waiting patiently at a table for two, all her anxieties wash away. Although John Wick is the most dangerous man in the world—and most people whisper his name like a curse—to Jordan he feels like home. John glances up, and his initial happy reaction quickly furrows into worry.

“You’re all wet!” He stands and pulls her to his chest regardless, then swings his jacket off and over her shoulders. It hangs comically far down her petite frame, nearly to her knees. John smirks and presses a kiss into the top of Jordan’s head, tucking a wet lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Ugh, I know.” She rolls her eyes. “It took forever to catch a ride, and then we got stuck in traffic, and I got out of class late to begin with—”

“It’s okay. You’re here now, aren’t you?” John’s eyes twinkle as he pulls out her chair for her. “Now let’s just sit and enjoy each other’s company.”

Swaddled in John’s coat, she falls into the chair with a sigh. I feel better already. Nursing school was, frankly, kicking her ass. These dates are a welcome break from it all, and getting to spend time with John Wick is a thrill in itself.

She doesn’t ask about his day, knowing he will only deflect the question. He watches her intently as she launches into a recap of her own, marveling at how he could have found a woman so…good. Her kindness radiates from her like the sun, and her ocean eyes glitter with something he fears he will never have again. Hope. Yet the past few weeks he has spent with her, John could feel something inside him warming—cynicism evaporating in the heat of her glow. But wow, he thinks, a flame igniting behind his gaze, I wish I could bend her over this table.

Jordan immediately notices the change in his demeanor; he suddenly feels more like a hungry wolf than her boyfriend. Jeez…for a guy who swears he’ll protect me at all costs…he sure does look like he’s about to devour me. Smirking, she brushes her foot up his calf and winks at him. He grips the table and opens his mouth to retaliate, but the waiter pops in with irritatingly perfect timing.

“Now, have we decided on our main course for the evening?” He continues on listing the specials, oblivious to the electricity sparking across the table.

John’s eyes are locked in silent war with Jordan’s as she shimmies her foot up to his thigh, teasing him under the table. Then with a flash, John breaks away and orders slowly. Lazily, almost. His body language gives no signal that he is or was aroused in the slightest, and Jordan drops her foot with a pout. Is he just messing with me? Wasn’t he the one looking sinful a minute ago?

The rest of dinner passes in languid comfort, the pair talking and laughing easily. Even in this happiness, Jordan can’t help but wonder what came over John. The man could be so secretive. He looks so tired sometimes.

“Come over tonight.”

This was not a request, but a command. A thrill licked up Jordan’s spine as she watches John close the bill.

“O-okay,” she says cautiously, “that sounds fun!” She had been to his house before, but this felt different. “What do you want to do?”

“Oh, I just want to spend some more quality time with my girl.” John slides her a mischievous look as they rise from the table. “And—” He snatches her waist and pulls her in close. “—have a little word about teasing me in public, missy.” John pulls her into a dirty kiss, then shuts it all down as fast as it began—the perfect gentleman once more. Confused and aroused, Jordan follows him to his car.

————————————————

John’s thumb traces soft circles over the back of Jordan’s hand as they drive back to his apartment, only breaking contact when it’s necessary to shift gears. The rain had ceased during dinner, thankfully. Stars glitter above them, a cool wind whipping through the vehicle as they leave the city. Music blares from the stereo, and Jordan sways slightly with the melody—eyes closed.

A clear, sweet note cuts through the sound of the wind. Taking his eyes from the road, John fills his vision with her. Golden hair whipping around her serene face, Jordan looks and sounds like an angel as she sings. He hasn’t seen her look this…free in a long time. School work and studying seems to have taken up every bit of free time she had left, and he doesn’t think she’s even had time to work on her writing projects—her favorite escape. A slight frown tugs at the corners of his mouth, but disappears immediately when Jordan opens her eyes.

“…What?”

“Nothing,” he smiles. “Just watching you sing.”

“Well watch the road!” She giggles and leans back again. “You look tired, baby.”

“I am tired.”

“Well…do you just want to relax tonight? We don’t have to do anything. Maybe take a bath or something…”

“That sounds perfect.” John smiles gratefully and gives her hand a squeeze as they pull into his driveway. They both deserve a night to take it easy.

He circles the car and helps Jordan out, gently taking her hand and leading her into his home. They step out of their shoes and head straight to the bathroom, and John gets some hot water running to fill the bathtub. As it fills, he stands and cups Jordan’s head in his large hands. She reaches up and covers his fingers with her own, staring up into his dark eyes.

“Hey…”

“Hey.” His face furrows into a serious look that makes Jordan’s heart drop. Is something wrong?

“What’s up? You look…worried.”

“I am.” He sighs. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while now, but I’m worried about what it will mean. For me and for you. I—” he clears his throat. “Jordan. I— I love you.”

Blood rushes to Jordan’s cheeks, and she feels nearly faint as she returns his intense gaze. John Wick loves me? JOHN WICK LOVES ME! Holy shit!

“Oh, John…” she springs up and wraps her arms around his neck as he sweeps her into his arms. “I love you too.”

They slowly remove each other’s clothing and slide into the bath. Jordan leans back onto John’s chest, and he presses tender kisses down her neck. They melt into one another, blissfully warm and in love.

“Now,” John murmers, “don’t forget…I’m still going to have a chat with you about you teasing me earlier…”

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

Tag list: @feminemashinegun @mikaneonox @onebatch--twobatch @catsmieow @homesoutofhuman @lunilate @weird-civilian

#John Wick #john wick fanfic #fluff #Keanu Reeves #date night #one shot #cuties #i hope you like it

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the-gunslock · 5 years ago

Text

HIVER 8 pt.2 - NAMES AND TITLES

This is a story of...

...of...

...What is this?

I cannot remember. What is this? Who wrote this?

Was it me?

“Dianzi.”

The Awoken girl had just been done doing her glittery makeup. Dianzi Yao’s face was adorned with gold and light blue markings, made to complement her purple hair and dress. It did. Very well.

“You’re almost up.”

She looked around the room. Other women were dressing themselves up just as she was, ready to go onstage. It was customary for them, to present their gracious moves to their fellow people — and their Queen, Mara Sov.

Whoever it is that crowned her.

“Tu es magnifique, ma fille. (You look wonderful, daughter.)” An older woman, but just as beautiful as her, said while caressing her side bangs, her green eyes glowing in admiration. The daughter smiles brightly.

“Merci beaucoup, mére. (Many thanks, mother.) I’m ready.”

“Go. Show them beauty.”

As the dancers were being lifted to the stage, Dianzi on its center, she looks at the brooch holding up her sash.

A reminder of Mara’s invisible shackle on all the residents of the city, and how small her world truly was.

“Is here my place?” She thought to herself, as always, as the dancers reached the stage and the lights turn on. The auditorium was full, as always, with Mara’s best sitting beside herself at one of the overlooking seats.

Mara knew everything of Dianzi’s desire to escape. It was not a rare emotion amongst those who live all their lives in one place. She wouldn’t stop her if she tried, for she knew the girl was aware there would be consequences, brought by her hand — or not.

The Queen wishes she could understand the reasons behind it. The Awoken had built wonderful cities and a prosperous civilization in the shadows of the Darkness that afflicted them in the edge of the Solar System. Everything was made perfect, down to the last brick. Why would anyone want to leave? What is missing?

But for now, there was nothing else that Dianzi could do, but dance. They both knew that.

With that in mind, Dianzi closed her eyes, and when they opened again, she mentalized that she and her fellow dancers were standing in an starry desert, treading paths on the salt-white sand.

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

“Ma fée. (My fairy.)”

Cháng Yi knocked on the marble-grey door of her daughter’s room, who laid on her bed under her warm lights, absentmindedly playing a small, handheld instrument, and humming along to it. Something like a kalimba.

“Come in.”

She opens it and steps inside, adjusting the sash on her decorated, white-and-gold garment.

“You are getting better at this every day. We could hear the music from the kitchen. Maybe you should play for your friends some time.”

“It is just a pastime,” Dianzi said as she put it on her nightstand, “I’m not putting this out there. What is it, mom?”

“Dinner is ready, daughter.” She said with a smile as the aroma of food filled the air inside the bedroom. “Made something special for you.”

Realizing her hunger, Dianzi jumps off the bed, pulling down her sweater and excitedly hopping to the dining table where she found three chafing dishes containing melted cheeses and chocolate, and many bowls containing various kinds of food — cubed bread, various fruits cut down to bite sized pieces, small pieces of meat, a bunch of cheeses, and even wine — however Cháng had made other drinks since her daughter rarely drank alcohol.

“Whaaaaa? What is the occasion?”

“She forgot again.” Another elder Awoken, with glowing blue eyes, clad in a simple, black outfit covered by a form-fitting black jacket, entered the kitchen, smirking while carrying a relatively large box.

“The day I was born?” Dianzi guessed, thumb to her chin. The older women chuckle.

“Yes, it is.” The third woman confirms handing her the carefully-wrapped box. She and Cháng sandwich Dianzi in a warm hug while she laughs, trying to protect her gift. “Congratulations, ma lapine. (My bunny.)”

“Joyeux anniversaire, Dianzi! (Happy anniversary, Dianzi)” Cháng says warmly while letting her go. “Did I say it well, Clarabelle?”

“Yep, perfectly. You two are refining it every day.” Clarabelle pats and kisses the heads of both her wife and her daughter, much to their glee. “I’m so proud of you two.”

“Thanks, mom. Can… can I open this?” Dianzi asks, curious to see what’s inside the box.

“Of course! Meanwhile, I’ll eat all this delicious-looking food my dear made for us.” She says, grabbing one of the colored forks on the chafing dish and stabbing a piece of bread with it.

“Noooo! Leave some for us!” Cháng implores playfully. Clarabelle sits down and begins to eat, laughing.

Under the wraps, Dianzi discovers a large, octagonal, dark wooden box with a circle on its lid. One of its faces has some sort of ancient-looking clock, ticking methodically. On the top circle were many small, levitating, colorful spheres rotating on fixed radii, at different speeds.

“It’s an orrery.” Clarabelle says, smile on her face. “Press the button.”

Dianzi locates the button and presses it, causing the box to holographically project an adjustable spherical star map from its tiny Sol.

“It follows the movements of the planets in real time. Did you like it?”

“I…” Dianzi stutters, her blue eyes darting around all the different planets and constellations. “I love it. So much,” Clarabelle contently stuffed another steaming-hot-cheese-covered bread into her mouth, knowing exactly how to make their daughter happy.

“Now please come eat, ma fée. It tastes amazing.”

“Of course, I’m… Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

She poked a small, white sphere hovering in place above a blue and green one. “What… where is this?”

Clarabelle felt exactly what her daughter was looking for, and she involuntarily rubbed her fingers at her face scars with a sigh.

“It’s called the Traveler. Source of a quasi-supernatural force called the Light, and all that’s left of hope to a dead planet. Beneath it, what’s left of humankind defends itself from a lot of things that would adore to destroy them.”

“I want to see it.” Dianzi thinks to herself, taking one of the forks and poking it through a fruit. “Even if only for a while.”

Clarabelle and Cháng eye each other for a while, thinking of the best way to convince her not to follow any crazy idea. Cháng is clearly apprehensive of the idea, and silently begs her wife not to endorse that wish.

“I’ll think about it.” Clarabelle says.

“WHAT?” Both women say. One in excitement, the other in desperation.

“Some people decided against staying on the Reef in the past. So, time and again they are escorted to Earth, where they pass as Earthborn. Try to live some normal lives and bring some good to the Last City.”

“To make a new beginning?” Dianzi questions.

“In a way. Maybe we can go into one of these ships and… get a look for ourselves. Quick trip.”

“Are you insane, Clarabelle?!”

“We’ll be fine, and be back before you know it.”

After an extremely satisfying dinner, Dianzi rests on her bed, wondering what it’s like on Earth and the City, but her thought process is broken by hearing her mothers angrily discussing Clarabelle’s idea. In the back of her head, the dancer wondered if she was going to regret following her wish.

And what she would do if, for this or that reason, she didn’t come back.

Before she dozed off, Dianzi heard, through her bedroom wall, the panicked sobs of her less adventurous mother in their living room.

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

“Yao!”

Both women perked their heads up from their seats at the Exodus ship. One for having her name called, the other for being responsible for her.

They eyed a man wearing a crisp purple E.V.A. suit and a round helmet with a bright visor, holographic information passing through it. On his arm, a purple patch with the Queen’s sun emblem was stitched. His hands were on his thighs as he crouched over to look at them in the eye.

Dianzi fiddled with the pistol given to her by the crew members, thinking about where they were headed and about leaving Cháng behind, also looking out the window thoughtfully. She promised to her mother she would be back as soon as she was able to.

The space outside was entrancing. They had just passed Luna — but Dianzi had read nothing about the huge hole tore in it. She heard the other passengers calling it “Hellmouth”, not exactly sure why.

“Go over the conditions one more time.” The captain says to them. “We cannot take any chances, specially with curious tourists.”

“Don’t make direct contact with civilians...” Dianzi starts, thoughtful.

“Or Guardians and their orbs.” Clarabelle complements.

“Keep an eye out for Eliksni and the parasites.”

“Correct,” The Awoken captain says, fingers on his chin. “And the last one?”

Dianzi sighs. “We must not, under any circumstances, turn off our communication devices.”

“Captain,” one of the pilots calls to him. “Entering Earth atmosphere in about four minutes. Permission to activate stealth field.”

“Granted.” He says, turning to the pilot, and then back to Dianzi and Clarabelle. “Don’t cause any trouble.”

The Captain walks away to the cabin, leaving Dianzi and Clarabelle on their seats. Clarabelle leans over to kiss her daughter on the cheek before she puts on her helmet. Dianzi smiles and puts her own helmet on as they feel the turbulence of entering Earth airspace.

Clarabelle pokes Dianzi on the shoulder, motioning to the window. As she looks at it, she beams a bright smile.

There it is. The Last Safe City on Earth. Or just ‘The City’, as the dancer had read before. Built under the shadow of a dormant god, humanity’s last stand held firmly against everything that came their way.

“Holy shit…” Is all she could muster before laughing in glee. This was unlike anything she had seen. From within, some sort of spark ignited, calling for her to read, to study, to know more; There are hundreds of centuries of history here, waiting for her to learn everything there is about these people.

Literally, a whole new world.

The sightseeing had been brief, for they were not allowed contact with the City. Instead, they had traced a course for a desolate landmass the humans once called “Europe”, certain that there would be forms of transportation and establishing there.

As long as they stuck together.

They flew over the sea at sunrise. It was mesmerizing — the Reef, ironically, had no seas. Dianzi wanted that moment to last forever, burning that image as much as she could in her memory before leaning back into the seat.

They soon reached the abandoned continent. Not much to see other than ruin of what apparently was a great civilization. So much past and innocent lives dead and buried under the rust and vegetation.

‘They didn’t deserve this’, she thought to herself… As a massive, brownish ship came out of stealth and into view of the window, shaking the medium-sized Awoken stealth ship with the deafening roar of its gigantic engines. As it flew by, it released multiple, smaller crafts that opened Arc turret fire on the Awoken.

“ELIKSNI SKIFFS INCOMING!”

“What is this — EVASIVE MANEUVERS, NOW!”

The smaller craft had to leave stealth to divert energy to its engines, moving faster than before, attempting to not be fired upon. They had made it very far and were close to the ground when they took a couple critical hits, that started tearing off a luckily vacant section of the ship — but also causing it to start going down, catching fire.

The Fallen, unrelenting, continued to shoot at the Awoken until they saw an explosion on the hull, which prompted them to move on. The damage was done. The Awoken had crashed and some of the passengers that weren’t secured flew off the ship and into the buildings below.

Clarabelle and Dianzi held on to each other as much as they could, desperately trying to protect each other from the strong current coming from the destroyed section of the ship, bound to drag them outside.

They felt a crash. Apparently they had impacted a building and its debris had knocked their seats loose. In a panic, Clarabelle hurried to unsecure herself and, as she moved to help Dianzi out, Clarabelle was thrown out of the crooked ship. They finally crash-landed in a portion of this dead city, which was the last thing Dianzi could process before her head was smashed against the window and she passed out.

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

“Hello?”

The heavily-armored individual called to the empty husk of a ship. Him and his little light looked around the occupants, his Sweet Business minigun in hand, ready for anything that might have caused this ship to go down. Everyone appeared to be dead from the ship’s debris and the crash; nothing invaded it. He is not sure if he is more or less relaxed about this situation.

“There is nothing in here.” The Ghost said while wandering around the ship halls. The two circular lights on his robot-like helmet glowed the way into the dark vessel, looking into the visors of its dead occupants.

Except for one, who faked her death until the Guardian had his back-turned, checking the pilot’s cabin to swiftly lift her safety harnesses and sprint to the city outside. Grunting at the blinding sunlight in this new place, Dianzi blinked a few times to adjust and looked around at all the age-old destruction and haphazardly put together hideouts whose colors reminded her of the ships she just seen. ‘The “Eliksni?”’, she thought to herself before she was startled from the sound of heavy footsteps and machinery reving up coming from inside the Awoken vessel behind her.

Making matters worse, she heard guttural alien sounds coming from one of the hideouts, under a purple banner, and froze in place as she noticed the spear-wielding, four-armed aliens running out to get her. As if hearing her prayers, however, the Titan came back from the pilot’s cabin and unloaded the minigun’s magazine in all of the Fallen, saving the Awoken girl’s life.

“You doin’ okay?” He asked,

“I…” Dianzi said, with tears of regret trickling down her face that slipped unseen under her helmet’s visor. “Who… are you?”

“Don’t have a name yet. But…” He unforms his helmet, exposing his purple skin and white glowing eyes. “You can just call me ‘Titan’ for now. This is my Ghost.” He says, motioning for her to walk with him down the road. Ghost greets her with a ‘salut’ while bobbing up and down.

“You’re… Awoken. Like… like me.” Dianzi says, removing her own cracked helmet, revealing some blood trickling down her face. She didn’t notice it due to adrenaline. “Are you from the Reef?”

“I don’t think so. I was reborn here, don’t remember much past that.”

“Sure…” She said, just now feeling the blood trail and cleaning it off with the back of her hand. “I need to look for someon—

Dianzi was cut off by a powerful stomp and a demonic laugh coming from the road near the crash site. A voice echoed in her head. It was Clarabelle, calling her name through telepathy. She sounded panicky, as if in danger. Analyzing the place they are right now, she probably was.

“Seems like a good place to start.” The Titan said, reforming his helmet and throwing a grenade at the entrance to the Fallen hideout. “Got a gun?”

She eyed the pistol on her leg, suddenly remembering she had it, and drew it, ready to cover the Titan. Dianzi was afraid, but there was nothing she could do, being stranded and outgunned. So she followed the Guardian, hoping to find a path to follow.

As they swiftly turned the corner, they saw three of the ship’s occupants, injured, but doing what they could to fight off a huge, laughing Fallen, and its smaller goons.

“What. The fuck. Is that thing?”

“A Baron.” Ghost said. “Largest of the Fallen. Stay sharp, lady, this is going to be bad.”

“(MOM!)” The Awoken shouted, grabbing the attention of one of the Awoken.

“(DAUGHTER!)” She replied, inbetween shots and grunts of pain. “Fall back, people!”

Seeing the goons, the Titan ran up and punched one of the Fallen, empowered with some sort of purple energy, giving a personal energy barrier and much-needed healing to the Awoken so they could run for cover behind rusted cars and walls.

He continued firing and punching them until only the Baron remained, prompting him to pull out a purple shield and use it to attack the Baron, throwing and bashing it against its body, breaking one of his arms and his gun.

“He is too strong, this ain’t gonna work. We need to run.” Ghost advised his Guardian and the Awoken. Dianzi watched her mother for injuries as they both tried to fight off the Fallen. They were like bugs.

“Mom, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought us out here.”

“Worry later— the other two aren’t gonna make it. We need to leave, this is not our place.”

“Women!” The Titan called to them, as recovered from being stomped away. “I can’t do this alone, we need to run back to safety while reinforcements arrive.”

As he said these words, Dianzi and Clarabelle started going back to the ship while the Guardian covered them with his shield.

A true knight.

“My Guardian’s Fireteam will be here soon. We can take you to the City.” Ghost says, as calm as he can be while the trio ran from the Baron.

Unbeknownst to the three, a Vandal charged his Wire Rifle in a building nearby, taking aim at the running trio.

“No, orb, we cannot stay here! Dianzi and I need to find a ship as soon as we c—”

Suddenly, Clarabelle tumbled on the ground. Her chest had been pierced, her lung was completely punctured from back to front.

Her daughter was at a loss for words. All that she could do was pull her pistol and somehow kill the Vandal with a single bullet to the head, and then hold her mother in her arms, silently begging her to not go. While she did, the Titan cast a barricade and started fighting off the Fallen to protect the two civilians.

“(My bunny...)” She said, wheezing. “What an adventure, eh?” She looked sleepy, as if she was going to doze off at any moment. But she smiled gladly.

“Mom…? Mom, stay with me, I-I can’t do this without you!”

“You can.”

“What will I-- how can--”

“Shhh.” She shushed, holding her hand up, prompting Dianzi to hug her, staining her EVA suit with blood.

“(I’m so sorry, mom.)” She said as she held her mom further, the world around her nothing more than a blur.

“(I love you, Dianzi.)” She said as she touched her daughter’s face. “We’ll… meet again… someday.”

With that, Clarabelle gave her last breath, embracing her freedom.

“Woman!”

The Titan called to the sobbing Dianzi, seeing as his two Hunter comrades had just arrived to support him. As they started shooting their enemies and throwing knives, the Titan picked up Dianzi and hurriedly carried her to a rusty car where she’d find some protection, at least for the moment.

“Stay there. And don’t move a muscle until we’re done clearing this place.” The Titan warned the younger Awoken as he put her inside an old car by a lightpost. “I promise I’ll come back for you.”

She dared not look to the outside the window as the street she was in became a warzone between Guardians and Fallen. The Awoken girl cried uncontrollably, out of both panic and regret. ‘I shouldn’t have come to Earth. I shouldn’t have left mother. I shouldn’t —

Shouldn’t.

What an extremely painful word.

Almost as painful as the explosion that knocked her hideout over, trapping her in the car due to exhaustion and the somehow-still-working automated seat belt system.

“(I’m sorry, mother...)”

Almost as painful as the rusted metal piece of the streetlight pole that crashed down and split open her forehead.

Back at their little house in the Reef, Cháng Yi felt the most painful sting of her life, sending her screaming into a panic state.

The two most important things in her life faded away, and she knew it.

“Guardian?”

The Guardian and her Ghost had walked for days now, looking for a way to return to the City, the former doing all she could to absorb the new reality she woke up to by talking to Ghost, whom she protected with her paracausal abilities and newly discovered firearm prowess.

“Yes?”

“Do you remember your name?”

This was a test. Sometimes Guardians remember their past names. Sometimes they make new ones. But in both cases, their memories are still lacking for a while before they can adapt to them. But the Warlock was willing to not let anything slide.

“My name is…”

She had to give it some time. All that she remembered from when she woke up was being dazed amidst destruction, a crashed ship and multiple Fallen bodies.

“Isssss…”

Next to her was the cadaver of a spacewoman that she didn’t recognize outright, but she still seemed unbelievably familiar. She feels she should know who it is — but she cannot for the life of her. Ghost said she hoped another Ghost came to get her soon. If only she was able to save her.

“Hiver.”

#destiny 2 #destiny oc #destiny awoken #destiny fic #hiver the gunslock

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luvbotclub · 5 years ago

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[1:30am] kun looked at you with tired eyes as he rubbed them gently, giving you another sleepy look before retreating back to his bedroom with a cup of water in his hand. you worried he’d scold you for getting back home so late even though he knew your position in school had great demands, knowing the way he is sometimes. you sighed out in relief and walked to your bedroom, which you shared with your good friend hendery.

you were a member of the photography club in your school and your friend, jihyo (the leader of the club), counted on you to take pictures whenever a significant event happened in the city, mostly a crime. you were unfortunate enough to be alarmed by jihyo herself through text that spiderman was fighting a bunch of burglars downtown, just as you were about to head back home. it sounded dangerous and you weren’t ready to experience a car almost being thrown at your face one time again and having to explain to kun and hendery why you had so many bruises and had a slight limp in your step — but you agreed anyway.

you had many interactions with spiderman — he once saved you from the aforementioned thrown car and many countless times after that — but never actually got too close to him. you understood though, you respected his privacy. maybe you were growing a little crush on the guy, but he could be as old as captain america for god’s sake and you wouldn’t know. besides, you already like hendery to begin with. you’ve been roommates with him for almost two years now since kun decided it’d be better for all three of you to live in one apartment so that he’d be able to take care of you both, hendery being his distant cousin who moved from macau and you being a close family friend.

hendery is a very... odd person. not in a creepy kind of odd, maybe he fell perfectly into the quirky kind. you never found him offish nor weird, though, and you never mind him being a dork to you when you meet in school hallways. to be honest, you kinda liked his little dorky interests and the way his eyes would light up whenever you’d talk about star wars with him. they’re one of the reasons why you liked him so much — of course, him being the sweetest baby ever was an obvious factor.

you opened the door to your room, expecting to see the lights off and hendery asleep in his bunk. you stopped dead in your tracks once the door creaked open and there stood hendery, shirtless and seemingly struggling to get a red suit off his body — a suit that resembled spiderman’s too closely.

but... he can’t be, right—?

“shit!” hendery exclaimed, clapping a hand over his mouth while he pulled up the red suit to cover his chest with the other.

“hendery, holy fuck —” you were speechless, tongue tied. you tried to speak, but the words got stuck in your throat. all this time, you were being saved by your crush and he even fucking flirted with you once.

“y/n,” he walked closer to you, the suit coming off slowly and revealing more of his skin to you. you looked away briefly but continued to listen to him, cheeks burning. “it’s not what it looks like, i promise —”

“before i freak out more, pull your suit up first,” you practically begged, looking at him finally. hendery looked exhausted, his long bangs sticking to his forehead because of the sweat dripping. he did what you told him to do and pulled the suit back on, now being clothed again without the mask this time. “hendery, what the fuck? you’re spiderman—?”

hendery looked at the hallway to see if kun was there with bewildered eyes before pulling you inside and slamming the door shut. “be quiet or i’m gonna web your mouth shut,” he threatened before sinking to your bean bag chair and cradling his head with his hands with a deep sigh. “don’t tell kun about this, y/n. please. promise me that.”

“no shit, i’m not gonna tell anyone about this,” you scoffed and sat on the floor in front of him you met him eye to eye. “your secret’s safe with me, hendery. i just wish i could’ve known sooner.”

“i knew your club at school wanted pictures of spiderman whenever he was in action and you were in charge of that,” hendery mumbled through his hands, his cheeks becoming rosy. “and i kinda... wanted to... impress you...”

his words became quieter and quieter and you didn’t hear the last part. “you wanted to what?”

“nothing,” shrugged hendery, shaking his head and looking at you.

“listen, you flirted with me once as spiderman,” you almost laughed, cheeks still burning with embarrassment and possible shyness at the situation.

at the thought, hendery immediately hid his face again and whined out in embarrassment. “don’t remind me about that, jesus christ.”

you giggled and kneeled so you were on level with his face. with soft movements, you removed his hands from your face and made him look at you as you cupped his face gently. “listen, dummy,” you swallowed thickly. were you really about to do this?

“i like you a lot, and that might sound like i’m only telling you this because i know you’re spiderman now, but i really do like you, okay? i have for a year now. you being spiderman and saving my ass from dying — that’s just another reason for me to like you more. you’re so amazing in all aspects and you’re such a dork. i’ve never met anyone nearly as cute as you.”

you waited for him to pull away and push your hands off his face, but you were surprised when you felt him lean closer to you and collide his lips with yours. you both felt a weight lifted off your shoulders and almost an electrifying feeling between your lips as you eventually kissed back and closed your eyes.

“i like you too, y/n,” hendery smiled against your lips, pulling away. “i like you a whole lot. i was scared to tell you because i thought you’d avoid me a-and i showed my feelings through my spidey suit because it was the only that made me confident around you, you know? i know i don’t deserve you and you’re way too good for me but i was thinking of inviting you out on saturday for dinner? what do you —”

you leaned back in and kissed him again, cutting him off. “it’s perfect, hendery. call it a date.”

you two spent the night together just holding hands and making stupid avengers puns. you talked about what it would be like if he finally became one of the avengers and you laughed at all of hendery’s outcomes. he took off his suit earlier and changed into one of his sweatshirts that smelled like you because of the ridiculous amount of times you stole it fro him and wore it to school. you two fell asleep soon, blankets wrapped around you both snuggly.

kun was surprised to see you two cuddled up on the floor when it was morning, right as he knocked on your door to call you two for breakfast. when he saw hendery’s head atop yours, his lips kissing your forehead, your head cuddled to his chest, and your hands loosely holding the other, kun could only smile and close the door again.

finally, he thought.

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xsister-serpent · 6 years ago

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Take On Me

Summary: From your horrible job to the awful/abusive ex-boyfriend, you decide to come back to your old hometown after 5 years. Everything was just as it was when you left it senior year, except for your neighbor Josh Summers. The seventh part of Take On Me series.

A/N: Aaannndd we’re back! Life has been hitting left and right so thank you for being patient for this <3 i appreciate this so much! Enjoy <3<3 tagging : @move-im-indigenous @ifitstoogoodtobetrue @they-are-not-just-stories

Inspired by Take On Me (acoustic version) by A-ha

Warnings: Cursing , Fluff and a dash of Smut (18+ Older!!)

I left his car and walked into my house. I quickly unlocked the door and went upstairs towards my room. I pulled out a backpack from my closet and shoved in whatever clothes I could find. I began to dig into my drawers finding my black one piece swim suit. I packed in my PJs and other clothes in my bag. I walked over to the bathroom and took my tooth brush and the essentials . I shoved everything into the bag and hooked it over my shoulder.

I rushed out of the door and made a bee line to his house. I threw my up my hood and placed dark glasses over me incase my aunts car came by. I went on the other side of the house and found the back door. It was open and I snuck inside. I walked around the pool and notice there was a jacuzzi beside it. I saw Josh through his sliding glass door. His house was gorgeous. I gently tapped on his window catching his attention.

“I’m really loving this spy vs spy look you got going.” josh greeted as he opened the door to let me in.

“I owe you one,” I spoke as he locked the door behind him.

“Let me take your sweater,” he spoke as I handed it to him, “I got some movies and popcorn for us.”

My mouth dropped as I saw his elaborate living room. It was like something out an Ikea spread. A flat screen tv hanged above the fire place as neatly decorated furniture was scattered about. A little corner of the room was filled to the shelves with books along with a cosy bench window seat. It connected with a large kitchen covered in stainless steel and wood.

“You have a nice place,” I complimented looking at the oak dining table.

“Thanks. Im trying to get a theme going, along the lines of rustic but home-ish??”

I titled my head, “So like city meets little house on the Prairie??”

“I have no fucking clue,” he shrugged as he pulled out two beers.

I chuckled, “Well that’s one way to put it. Your pool is really nice and a jacuzzi too.”

“Yea,” He answered, “If you want we could go night swimming?”

“That sounds amazing,”

“Perfect,” he smiled.

I felt a smirk tug at my lips. He brought out a beer and a wine glass and lightly patted the spot next to him. I placed my bag on the floor and sat next to him.

“What movies you got?” I asked as I eyeballed the DVD’s on this table.

“Let’s see I got mad max, kill bill, crimson peak, I recently got avengers infinity war,” he spoke holding up.

“Oh nice, have you watched it yet?” I asked.

“No not yet. You wanna watch it?”

“Of course but just be warned to be ready for a world of hurt.”

“Don’t tell me anymore,” josh chuckled as he placed it in the tv.

He came back and set out the chips and candy. We made ourselves comfortable as we watched the movie. I poured myself a glass of wine knowing how bad this movie would play out. I could feel Josh’s arm wrap around my shoulders, his fingers tips tracing circles around my shoulder. I smiled as I nestled onto his chest. Although I had seen this movie josh was purely invested in it. I knew cuddling was not going to last. I scooted away as he watched the intense fight scene between Thanos and hulk. Suddenly it came to the scene of Loki and the tesseract.

“No,” josh whispered in shock, “Oh no...”

I hid my smile as he gazed at the screen. Then came Loki’s death. I heard him gasping his hand on his mouth in disbelief. I chuckled and reached for my beer. He turned towards me, “He’s coming back right?? Y/n tell me that little shit is coming back??”

“I don’t know babe,” I spoke taking a slip. I stopped in mid drink. The terms of endearment just naturally rolled off my tongue with him.

“This whole movie is unbelievable,” he whispered as he now was leaning against me.

Within the next minutes of the movie I could hear josh mumble a few curse words. More or less of holy shit or I can’t. From his cheering on captain America, to his laughter at Thor and Peter quills pissing contest. It was heaven. Until it came to the horrible ending scene. Josh was now leaning forward his hand on my knee while the other under his chin. His eyes widen as Thanos delivered his last line to Thor. Then came to the snap.

Josh's hand went to his mouth, “Y/n what’s happening?!”

“Just watch the movie.”

“Babe I swear-,” he had paused as he saw Bucky Barnes turn to dust, “OH MY GOD!!”

I watched with a smile as he yelled in heartbreak.

“NOO!!”, he shouted in disbelief as he saw Peter Parker turn into dust, “WHAT THE FUCK?! NOT SPIDEY!”

Soon thanos appeared on the screen. Josh quickly grabbed my popcorn and threw a piece at the screen, “That purple son of a bitch!”

The screen went to after credits. Josh sat back and covered his face with his palms.

“You alright love?” I asked rubbing his back.

“No,” he spoke as he slumped back to his chair, “I have another year to see captain marvel kick that shriveled raisins ass.”

I laughed as his rested his head on my shoulder. He sighed heavily and went to TV.

“That was majorly depressing,” josh spoke ejecting the DVD.

“What would make you happy??” I asked as I placed my glass on the table.

Josh looked behind me, “Wanna take a dip in the jacuzzi??”

I looked back at the pool then at him,”That sounds fun.”

“Put on your bathing suit and meet me outside.”

He kissed the corner of my lips and went up the stair case. I went for my bag and grabbed my black one piece and went to the bathroom. As I switched on the light my jaw dropped. Everything was in pure marble and steel. Even the guest restroom decor was like a 5 star suite. I could only imagine what his bedroom looked liked. I could hear him shuffle and the door open and close.

I stripped out of my clothes and slipped on my swimsuit. I felt the cold chill as I walked out house and into the backyard. Off in the corner was the jacuzzi. Josh was already heating the water. Off to the side I notice there was a bottle of beer and my wine glass. He glanced over his shoulder, “Just heating up the water hun.”

I walked over to him as I crossed my arms over my chest. I began to shift my weight on my heels as another cold breeze blew through.

“How much longer?”

“It should be better now,” he spoke as he dipped his foot in. “Yup it’s warms enough.”

He walked in and I followed. I hummed in enjoyment as I felt the hot water engulf my goose-nipped skin.

“This feels so good,” I hummed as I closed my eyes.

“It does, doesn’t it?” josh spoke as he did the same, “You want some bubbles?”

“Please!”

He chuckled as he pressed a button to the side of him. A sudden rush of bubbles came into the jacuzzi along with a power water jet that began to massage into my back. I closed my eyes as I felt the knots in my back unwind.

“Oh my god josh this is perfect,” I spoke as it went lower, “Honestly your house is goals and this is the cherry on top.”

“You think so?” He asked.

“Absolutely, I could only dream about owning a house like this,” I complimented taking my wine, “I’ll probably be in so much debt though, not that I’m already am. I mean at this rate I’ll be lucky enough to find a flat.”

“Y/n if you need money I could give you some.”

I paused before taking another sip. There was no single hint doubt in his voice.

“You know I can’t ask that of you.” I placed the glass beside me. “I don’t want your money.”

“I know you don’t, that’s why I’m offering it.” Josh spoke in such a confidence even I couldn’t understand. He placed his beer behind him and moved in front of me. He placed his arms on the either side of me, so I wouldn’t have a choice but to look at him. I stood in silence for moment searching his face for any hint of doubt or joke. His brown eyes searching mine, “What are you thinking about?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am y/n.”

“Josh it’s not right. I can’t ask that of you. You’d be like my sugar daddy or something, it’s not fair of me to ask that. I couldn’t….”

My voice drifted off as I tried breaking his gaze but he titled his head catching it once more.

“Y/n, You haven’t given me a good reason not to trust you with my money. In fact you’ve proven me the opposite.”

I sighed heavily. He wasn’t wrong but this didn’t feel entirely too right either. His hand went down to my thigh resting on them while his bad hand remained to the side of me.

“You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be care of..” He gently whispered.

My eyes snapped up at him. I could feel his eyes strip away piece by piece of what I had kept away inside.

“W-what?”

“You heard me,’’ he affirmed.

I did. I heard him loud and clear. Josh’s hand came out of the water and cupped my face. His fingers caressed my jaw as though I’d slip away from him. I could feel his breath graze against my lips.

“Whatever burden you carry it’s mine now, understand? I don’t want you to worry about your loans or all that other bullshit okay? I wanna help you,” he offered, “Let me take care of you.”

I watched his eyes flick to my gaze then to my lips. He leaned forward and I was captured in his kiss. I hungrily kissed him back as he explored my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck as his hands moved my legs around his waist. His back was now against the wall while I sat on his lap. We broke apart trying to catch a breath.

“Okay,” I breathed.

“You gotta say it baby,” he spoke looking up at me.

His soulful brown eyes were shining now.

“I’ll let you take care of me.” I leaned down and captured his lips once more. His hands ran up my spine as his lips went to my neck. I bit my lip as an arousal began to build between my legs. I slowly moved my hips against his crotch, testing the waters first. Josh’s breath began hitch and his hand began travel up towards my breasts. I gasp in pleasure as his large hand began to palm my breast while the other gripped onto my ass. I could feel his cock began to stiffen as his hips began to grind against mine.

I want this, I wanted him. But something wasn’t right.

“Josh, w-wait.” I brought my hand up to his chest and he paused.

“What is it?” He spoke catching his breath.

“Can we go inside?” I asked breathlessly.

“Y-yea of course,” he replied, “Whatever your comfortable with kitten.”

He began to reach for the controller and turned off the jacuzzi. I began to fidget with my hands as I suddenly remembered he was going to a different side of me. He turned back towards me and rose a brow, “Is there something else??”

“Yea, I-uh??” I stammered as my mind began to race elsewhere. Just exactly how prepared was I for this?? My cheeks began to turn a slight pink as the fire from my chest began to sizzle out. I took a breath as I steadied my thoughts “Okay, it’s been a while since I’ve done this. Well, not a while, more like a 5 years but that’s not the point. The point is, is that I want this is be special. With you. I’d like to just take it slow with you.”

“Sweetheart If you’re not ready that’s okay,” he spoke assuringly.

“The thing is I am ready,” I admitted, “And I really want to with you. I just need some time to prepare. Like a shower.”

“I understand,” Josh smiled softly and kissed my cheek, “Thank you for telling me. God you’re so beautiful when you blush.”

“Quit it,” I spoke lightly splashing the water against his face.

“Even with that dark and brooding attitude,” he spoke kissing my nose, “Cute little softie.”

“Alright that’s enough,” I chuckled.

#josh brolin #josh brolin fanfic #josh brolin x reader #should i add more tags??#take on me series #yeah that's a good one #but yeah i hope you enjoy this #cause the next chapter WWHEEWWW BBOOIII I had to drink a glass of water to calm myself down ya know

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the-roanoke-society · 6 years ago

Text

homecoming.

alternatively titled: there and back again, a charlie tale.

the incredibly late follow-up to parts unkown, featuring @agent-nova, charlie hesketh, technical officers wyvern and drake, and team e key.

there are depictions of injury, gore and some horror elements under the cut. proceed with caution.

i am still very sorry.

weeks went by at the roanoke estate. october turned to november. to december.

the house was still decorated, of course. but lilith had done her best, with the white lady’s help, to ensure that the lights were extra soft, glowing as gently as an embrace. “their eyes may hurt when you bring them back. we want the landing to go as easily as we can, yes? fortune favors the prepared.” lilith had spoken with such certainty. nova and wyvern clung to it with a white knuckle grip.

she didn’t sleep much, didn’t eat much. wyvern wasn’t much better off. they hardly came out of the basement office set aside for the chunk of the traceback formula development—their usual company was just each other, cups of coffee gone cold, and tea… but those were usually merlin’s.

lillith had been the one to make that phone call. merlin had dropped absolutely everything, hadn’t even asked arthur for approval. he’d just left. harry had gone with him, for his sake, sure, but also for rae. the necromancer wasn’t taking this well.

not many were.

there weren’t any protocols in place for this. “this is the fucking protocol!” wyvern had screamed at longma, in that first formal meeting after the incident; his temper had definitely gotten the better of him in this entire ordeal. “and now we’re just shooting in the dark, hoping that we can find anything, anything, to trace, to give us even half a clue as to which one of these hellholes you and drake so thoughtfully sent them to!”

“jeremy—that’s enough.”

merlin was beyond exhausted.

he didn’t know how much time he’d spent just standing in the middle of his girlfriend’s quarters—going over old journals, old case files, anything he could find. he reasoned that maybe there was a hint, something from the past he could grab and yank to the present to help them. hours? days? time had never seemed so disjointed. stock-still and fleeting all at once.

and a darker part of his mind conceded: you are afraid you will not find her. and you are trying desperately to find a way to keep her close. you will never get to apologize to charlie. it will die with you. and that’s something she might’ve found unforgivable in another life, right? the withholding of mercy?

he shook his head. brought himself back to the basement office with drake, longma, wyvern—and nova, who was leaning up against one edge of the whiteboard with her arms over her chest.

it was covered in formulas. equations. numbers, number, numbers.

it was right in front of their faces. it had to be, he reasoned. and this—this was something he could actually help with. he’d be damned if failure would catch him now, when the price of it was this steep and shaped like someone that he loved, that he wanted to m—

no. not yet. if he could find her, then maybe…

despite winter falling down over the estate grounds, it was warm downstairs. he had his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. “look. let’s jus’—let’s jus’ talk this through again. y’ said that the traceback signal functioned as a receiver. correct?”

nova shifted on her feet, lifting a hand to her face. back to square one. she didn’t want them to see her expression crumple—but drake caught it, and felt sick.

wyvern heaved a sigh, his hands going to his hair. merlin swallowed and quickly went back to staring at the board.

don’t think about how she did that too. don’t think about it. focus. focus.

“yes. the traceback, it’s—it’s meant to pick up on device signals. we trace a path, boom, whip ‘em back to this timeline. hence traceback.”

merlin hummed, rubbing his scalp.

“okay—okay.” he picked up an eraser, clearing the board again. “let’s just try it again from the start. one more time. maybe there’s somethin’ we missed, like—passin’ a hallway in an old house…”

the initial panic had faded by then, out of necessity.

there’d been a few evenings where they each, in turn, had tried to solve the entire problem as quickly as possible. but the more they tried to fight against it, against time, the more frustrated they got, and it had ended in tears. for nova, most of all. and for merlin, just once: his first night in the states when he’d gone down into this exact office because he couldn’t stand to go to her room and find it silent, and empty.

and it’d been merlin who’d sat both of them down, one particularly raw night—pretending that they were recruits, that he was back home—and told them that trying to do this rushed wouldn’t move them forward. not the way they needed to move.

nova had buried her face in her hands. “do y’ understand, ellie?” she nodded, but didn’t speak.

wyvern and merlin encased her in their arms from either side.

he didn’t remember how long they stayed like that. but after they separated—that is when the work began. night after night of mathematics, theorems, conjectures. all dead ends.

but no one so much as uttered the phrase ‘give up.’ no one would.

* * *

“… wait.”

charlie didn’t quite have enough time to throw himself into a full panic. seraphim’s tone made him pause, and he watched her slowly get to her feet, staring at the skyborne city. “… i know that tower.”

“you recognize the city?”

seraphim squinted. “i—yeah. i think i do.” a head tilt. “… holy shit. holy fucking shit.” was there a smile in her voice?

it was charlie’s turn to struggle to a stand. his arm burned, and seraphim reached out a hand behind her to help him up. “why do you sound like this is a good thing?”

“it’s not, but i’m choosing to believe there’s no way it couldn’t help. c’mere, look—“ she stood right at charlie’s shoulder and pointed to the center, spiraling tower. “see that? that’s a part of a castle in an underworld capital city, korssrun. guess who was with me the last time i went there?”

“who?”

“ellie.”

and seraphim told him about the first time that she’d ever used the gate alongside the woman who was growing into a shape best described as ‘the love of his life.’ she could have cried at the wonder in his eyes, how the alarm melted from his expression even when she was talking about krueger, who for all intents and purposes was the exact opposite of a relaxing entity.

but it helped. it gave them a reference point, even if it was a little vague, and… possibly not a reference point at all.

“all right. so this is like… some weird inverted version of that universe. allllll right-y. all right, all right, all right…” seraphim took a few steps backwards and rubbed her hands on her face. think, think, think. “we just have to come up with a plan…”

“do you think they’re looking for us?” charlie winced, shifting on his feet. his gaze fell to the ground, slowly rolling back to the dark spots that marked where they’d landed against the rock.

“of course i do.” her answer was quick, firm. “if i know ellie like i think i do, she’s not going to sleep until she can find a way to bring us back. … or at least you.” that last bit was said quieter.

before charlie could open his mouth to ask her anything else, she gasped, “oh! oh that’s it! i mean—not like, it-it, but it’s a—“

“morgan!” he didn’t want her to know how bad he was feeling. but it leeched into his voice anyway. pain. every breath he drew was like a small layer of stone, gravel settling on the bottom of his chest. hot, suffocating. his skin was tingling. “please. just. slow down. what are you talking about?”

“i think—since they are looking for us—“ seraphim nodded with emphasis, confidence, but her voice trailed as if she was in the middle of a thought. “—it might be helpful if we found the…” she frowned, made a gesture with her hand. “… i don’t know, the landing point.”

“landing point?”

“i mean like the corresponding point where ellie and i met ground when we first came here. all the entry points for all the gates are pretty consistent in terms of the physical location where you hit.” her eyes went back upward. she stared at the tower. “this… this place isn’t mapped. i’m not going to pretend that this is a good idea, but it is an idea.”

charlie pressed his palms into his eyelids, exhaling, inhaling. “so. you think that if they try to get us back. the signal will come from there? be close to there?”

seraphim rolled her shoulders. she felt an itch as a bead of sweat rolled down her back and she hastily reached for her hair, snapping it up into a messy ponytail. the one time she remembered to keep a hair tie around her wrist. “yes. there’s no reason to think so, but there’s also no reason to not think so, and i’d rather throw my money in with what we can infer based on what we already know.”

charlie snorted.

“what?”

“nothing, you just—remind me of someone.”

“yeah? well you can tell me all about them on the walk over. c’mon.”

he frowned, but his steps after her were unwavering. “you know the way? how?”

seraphim glanced over her shoulder, smiling. she—looked tired. her skin shone in the muted light. charlie wondered if he, too, looked like some strange gemstone. but sweating only helps if it can cool you down… he tried to not think about it too much. a sharp wave of burning bit into his socket, a perfect circle of pain around the metal.

he tried not to focus too much on that, either.

“it’s just like wayfaring. that’s our north star. trust me, i know where we’re going.”

“whatever you say, maui.” it hurt to laugh but he did anyway.

“oh, i can see what’s happening here… you’re face to face with greatness, and it’s strange—“

“okay, you know what, i brought this upon myself, i can’t be upset—“

* *

and so they walked. and walked, and walked.

charlie was unnerved at the quiet. like they were the only things alive. the only sounds he heard were their voices, their steps, and the soft, round echoes that sounded after them among the stones. and it all looked the same, even as he would turn in slow circles as they went, trying to see as much as he could.

granted, there were the mountains. but the rocks were all the same color. they were all the same smooth-shaped like they’d been fished out of the bottom of the river. it rolled out around them until it dissipated in the white light that lit up the narrow horizon line.

and over them—well. the dark mass of… what had seraphim called it? krossrun? no, korssrun. what a strange name for a city, and—

he coughed. nothing but heat down his throat, into his chest.

it was getting harder to breathe. bit by bit.

was… was that static?

seraphim had a hand up immediately, placing it on charlie’s chest to stop him. at first, she hadn’t looked at him, trying to desperately figure out why it suddenly sounded like someone’s old tv was suddenly out somewhere ahead of them, stuck on a channel that didn’t work with the volume turned up to max volume, but then: “charlie? jesus, your arm—!”

he’d been slightly behind her, letting her lead way. at least, that’s he hoped it looked like. he didn’t want her to realize…

the blood had spread. a layer of red seeped from the edge of his sleeve upwards towards his collar, and down his side.

“it’s fine, it’s okay, it’s—“ charlie couldn’t stop her, and how she moved closer to him so swiftly to carefully tug at his shirt reminded him so much of nova that suddenly his eyes were stinging and he had to glance sharply to the skyline.

“this is not! fine!” her voice came out hoarse and halting, going up a pitch in panic. shit. shit this was not good. “this! is! the opposite of fine! charles douglas hesketh!”

“that’s not my—!” but he had to stop abruptly, swallowing a genuine scream when seraphim’s fingers got too close to his skin.

“fuck, sorry, sorry—aw man… charlie…”

seraphim was a bit of a loss for words. they hadn’t stopped moving, not since they landed. she didn’t think either of them could. the idea of staying put, waiting on something or someone else to come for them without doing anything at all? absolutely fucking not. nope. not today.

but because they hadn’t rested…

well.

the tears around his arm socket, okay, they could be because he’d been moving. but these other marks, these blisters, those weren’t from movement.

“it’s burning you.”

“mm?”

“charlie.” he’d never heard someone’s tone change so much in such a short amount of time. but when seraphim looked up to his eyes, he had a hard time looking back at her. it was unnerving, watching the color drain from her face, yet not enough to take away the flush that went across her cheeks. “charlie, your arm socket is—it’s the metal. it’s been heating up the entire time, hasn’t it? that’s its reaction? flesh does, flesh does this, right, and your arm, it’s, it’s not flesh so it…” she uselessly gestured to his arm.

she wasn’t wrong.

he had felt it. been feeling it, been carrying it.

and had a new appreciation for that old story about the frogs who were very slowly boiled alive.

but of course he wasn’t going to say anything. what was there for it? he’d seen no water, or even evidence of water, or clouds, or shade, since they’d landed, and—the static grew louder. they both froze, looking ahead, waiting. there were quiet, agonizing whirs as both of charlie’s hands clenched into fists.

and charlie had thought to himself, i might need to keep it on me. best to go like everything’s all right.

nothing about their view changed. just that background noise—foreground noise, charlie supposed. it wasn’t something that was surrounding them—but it did sound wide.

“stay close to me,” seraphim said softly. there were tremors on the edge of her voice. “i don’t really want to waste time trying to go around whatever’s out there, especially when we might not even be able to.”

“do we have to go this way, morgan?”

seraphim pursed her lips together and nodded. “every time you look at me i can see the lack of trust in your eyes but i promise you this is the right way. i just need you to keep a kind of faith for a little bit longer. okay?”

charlie stared at her.

he tried to make her eyes turn into ellie’s, but the hazel, the browns, the greens—they were too different.

and it was only the idea of seeing them again that kept him upright, that distracted him enough to get his mind off of his arm socket, his thirst, the sweat that kept dripping down over his eyelids.

“show the way, fearless leader.”

seraphim snorted, reflexively. “yeah, leader. right. pretty sure good leaders wouldn’t let their colleagues get into the barrel of fun this has turned out to be.”

charlie did as he was asked, keeping pace right at her shoulder as they carefully picked their way over the smooth stone. always watching. listening. waiting. “it’s not like it was your fault.” their voices fell to hushed tones. “you rushed in to make sure drake was okay. i’m not sure he would’ve had the same reaction to getting snapped up somewhere like this.”

“and annabelle…” seraphim sighed. charlie couldn’t quite tell what emotion it carried. maybe there were too many. “she would’ve been heartbroken. it’s—is it better, then? that it was us?” for a moment, she stopped walking, frowning and gazing at the ground. but then she shook her head, blinking. “let’s maybe save the philosophical conversations for af—“

she didn’t finish.

they rounded a corner between two particularly large boulders, where a dirt path ran between them. it almost could’ve been a hiking trail, charlie decided, as he studied the ground. was it even dirt? who knew? but it was packed like dirt, packed like someone—something?—had walked over it numerous times, over and over and over again.

but he didn’t see any turns. just the impressions of something shaped vaguely like the foot of another human being. made by—

ellie?

charlie felt his voice rise up in his throat, but before he could speak, seraphim grabbed his arm, pulling him backwards roughly.

“m—“

“sh!” her hush was violent. she’d gone a sickly pale and he felt her hand trembling by his elbow.

seraphim very carefully leaned, looking past him. lifting a finger to her lips, she edged forward a few steps. charlie gazed over the top of her head around the stone.

it… it looked like ellie.

the static was louder than ever. it was like the hum he felt when he was underwater, the surface of the sea off the english coast a fractured glass ceiling over him.

she was facing away from him, and… and…

he blinked, shaking his head. it hurt to watch. he couldn’t make sense of it.

it was shaped like her, sure, but she wasn’t—solid. not transparent, not exactly, but more like her edges weren’t quite there. like parts of her were erratically blipping in and out of view.

“what—“ he couldn’t get the rest of the words out. he felt seraphim’s hand on his bicep, her grip trembling but firm. he swallowed. it was like a weight had settled beneath his lungs, and the longer he looked at the back of that stranger’s head, the heavier it got.

he wanted to go up to her. he wanted to run his fingers through her hair. he knew it wasn’t her. but if he could just feel her one more time, or something like her, one last time... because would they even ever get out of here alive?

“… what is it?” he finally asked. his voice barely registered a whisper, and he tried to lean as close to seraphim’s ear as he could so the sound didn’t get lost in the static.

“not human.” her answer came low, and sad. she was staring at her too. “i’ve—i’ve never seen one this close before.” one? seraphim put one palm over her chest, and seemed to convulse, before inhaling. it sounded a bit like a rattle, on the edges. “i’m... surprised there’s one here. but if we’re quiet, and keep going, it—“ she choked back a harsh cough. “it won’t bother us.”

“why does it look like ellie?”

for a second, seraphim didn’t react. then she laughed, ruefully, once, tugging at his elbow to keep going forward. they pressed as close as they could to a line of jagged boulders that acted as an edge to—charlie supposed he couldn’t describe it as a shallow gulch. cliffs rose up around them, but they weren’t very high; there was a cleft in the stone right in front of them just wide enough for them to pass through.

“it looks like ellie to you?”

“yes. … who do you see?”

seraphim didn’t turn, but she also didn’t let go of charlie. she kept her eyes up ahead of her even as she moved to pushed him forward, so she could guard him from behind. just in case.

and that was the only time she looked back.

it kept changing. both shapes were tall. one had a head of thick, black hair. longer than she remembered, but recognizable. the other had no hair at all.

she didn’t answer him until they were safely out on the other side of the path, where the cliff walls sloped down into a sandy valley. the more they walked, the softer that static grew. soon, it would disappear entirely, leaving only the familiar, heavy silence in its wake. “someone i miss. that’s its trick.”

the mountains were still in the distance, but this new clearing was basically featureless. it made charlie nervous. there was nowhere to hide. “and what—what was it, exactly?” the adrenaline had kicked in, now that it was safe. his hands were shaking, and his heart was in his throat. why was it so hard to breathe?

but as soon as it ebbed, the biting, burning pain in his arm socket came back with such a vengeance that he almost didn’t hear seraphim answer.

“something like a demon. but not quite.” her cheeks were rosy but the rest of her face was a blanched shade. she looked almost like a doll, and coughed again. “i’ll, uh… tell you all about it when we get out of here. we’re close now. this all looks—familiar.” her voice quieted at the end as she looked upward, gazing at the city. their unholy constellation that was helping them chart their course. “that’s why it’s there. it’s there for us. like some fucked up sign post. christ help us…”

seraphim shook her head, abruptly turning her back to charlie.

he was glad.

she didn’t want him to see her face crumple, and he didn’t want her to see how much pain he was in.

seraphim got it back together. it took her a second. but she thought about merlin, and imagined him, in his quartermaster tones, encouraging her.

she had to get back to him. she felt a curl in her heart, and here in this literal hellhole, she was willing to grasp it with both hands and a white-knuckle grip.

“okay—okay. what do you think, homie, have a mile or two left in you?” charlie swallowed, nodding. he’d never had cottonmouth this bad in his life, and he was trying to focus on literally anything to get his mind off his arm. he picked seraphim’s soft drawl. it seemed a bit more pronounced when she got emotional, he noticed. he wondered how many shades of her voice that only merlin had gotten the chance to hear.

and then he started thinking about how merlin and seraphim even ended up together at all, which led him right back to ellie, and she was the shape that kept the pain away as he followed seraphim’s steps.

they traveled in silence, for a while. it was a tired quiet, but not one that met them with their guards lowered completely.

seraphim was lost in her own puzzling. those entities appear for a reason. where are we? where the fuck could we have landed that would make something like that thing appear, like it was on purpose, like it was planned by someone, something else?

she didn’t have to even lift her eyes from the ground. she knew where they were going.

but charlie didn’t, and he tripped once, reaching out awkwardly to catch himself and almost landing on seraphim in the process.

his metal plan landed squarely on the stone, which meant his body weight bore down further on the machinery.

the pain was blinding, instantaneous and charlie couldn’t stop the retched, gagged and very loud swear word that came out of his mouth. seraphim jumped, startled. “jesus! charlie? charlie what’s wrong? did you twist something?”

he had to take deep, gulping breaths, but it was just like breathing in steam. there was no relief. “i’m—fine, i just—need a second—“

but seraphim, for all her flaws, wasn’t a complete moron. as charlie awkwardly sat back onto his knees, his hand went to his arm socket. not touching it. but close. her eyes followed to the scarlet-soaked material of his shirt.

oh, this is bad. this is very bad.

“you’ve lost a lot of blood.” she said quietly. she’d been wishing for merlin this entire time, thinking of all the times he’d bandaged her scrapes and bruises and true, maybe charlie would’ve preferred rougarou or cherub as medic, but… “and those burns are going from first to second degree. charlie, we need to take your arm off, we could be looking at permanent nerve damage if we don’t, and the weight’s tearing these wounds open more—“

“no!” he was started at how loud his own voice was. “… no.” he said it again, softer. “we aren’t alone out here. you don’t have virgil, neither of us is armed, except for this.” he winced as he lifted his metallic arm. “i need to keep it on me.”

seraphim leaned back on her heels for a second. two seconds. three. “… okay. sure. you know best. at least let me help you up.” she offered one hand that he gratefully took, pulling him back up to his feet.

but as soon as he was standing, seraphim gripped his arm with both hands, wrenched one direction, and pulled.

it snapped off with a piercing, metallic tang, and seraphim was screaming.

the relief by his shoulder was immediate but it was overshadowed by the sight of his own limb lying useless in the dirt and seraphim, stumbling backward until her back met rock, tears streaming down her face mingling with sweat. she had huge, burning welts over her palms. “shit. shit shit shit shit, fuck, fuck, jesus—“ a cascade of swears and cries for her god.

“why did you do that.” he couldn’t tear his eyes off of the machinery. “why did you do that?!” no matter how that steel had burned him, his anger was much, much hotter.

seraphim was choking out sobs. it sounded like she was suffocating. “ellie isn’t here to take care of you, so i have to.”

he stood, silently, staring at her. seraphim sniffed, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “ellie isn’t here to love you, and you don’t love you, so i am going to, because i’m here and it is just us, charlie. it’s just us. i know this sucks, i know it’s scary, i know that you don’t know me that well and you’re freaking out that i’m the one that you’re stuck with—“

“morgan—“

she kept going. “but you. have. to trust me. i am not going to bring you home with you needing a fucking skin graft! i am not bringing you home to ellie damaged, i am not bringing you home scarred!”

she looked up then.

and he thought, wow. i wonder if she’s ever looked at merlin like this. how did he survive it? and… wait, what was wrong with her eyes? why were they silver around the edges? had long had they been that way?

“but i am bringing you home. if we have to defend ourselves, then we will burn that bridge when we get there. but right now i’d rather us take the stealth route. we will keep our eyes and ears open. we won’t let anything sneak up on us. and we will find a way to the landing point. okay?”

charlie was quiet, but then softly spoke: “… okay.”

this time, seraphim didn’t hide her face. charlie watched the water stream out of her eyes, which looked—“uh, morgan?”

she took off her outer shirt with trembling hands, swearing under her breath, leaving her in a tank top. sweat got into the welts. it was like someone was rubbing salt on them. fuck, it hurt. but every time she looked at charlie, she could see how much straighter he was able to stand, how he seemed to breathe a little easier. worth it. absolutely worth it.

“yes, charlie?”

his eyes caught sight of a large scar at her shoulder. he blinked, trying not to stare. “uhm, can you… can you look at me? for a second?” she used her shirt to bundle up his arm, cradling to her chest awkwardly, like a baby. palms not touching the fabric.

“what? why?”

“just—just look at me. for a second.” seraphim flinched only slightly when charlie brought his hand up to her face, gently pushing up her eyebrow with his thumb. it was a movement he’d seen merlin do, a few times before. he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, closed it—would it be worth even telling her?

but she interrupted before he could say anything: “… are they silver, where the whites are? shiny, maybe? like polished iron?” something like dread laced her voice.

“… yes.”

seraphim sighed, pursing her lips together and nodding. “okay. we’re, uh, we’re running out of time. but we’re ah, we’re close, okay? we have to get moving. like, right now.”

“all right, all right. ladies first.”

“leaders first.”

“that too.”

but he was only able to hold his tongue for maybe fifteen minutes. not having his arm attached did feel a lot better. but he still felt trapped inside of… he tried to find words, something comparable. a sauna, he supposed, was the closest he could come up with. a very dry sauna.

but then he started to wonder how long they could survive here, where the air they breathed seemed to be poison, and what he could give to just be able to sit down, to find the point, to go home, to see her—

stop it. … stop it.

“morgan?”

“yes, charlie.” why did she already sound resigned?

“… why are your eyes like that?”

seraphim sighed, but her pace didn’t slow, not at first, not really. the rocks around them seemed to slowly level out, from cliffs, to boulders worn smooth by a river that wasn’t there anymore, then finally to what charlie would’ve described as a clearing. a meadow, maybe. but he’d never seen a meadow made up of only rock, sand and silence before. not like the ones he’d played in when he was smaller—with his brother. with james.

drake, cody, jeremy. each name formed once, echoed, and then disappeared.

it wasn’t just ellie he missed.

and merlin wasn’t the only person on seraphim’s mind, either.

charlie almost ran into her when she stopped walking, one hand going up to touch her back. accidentally, he brushed that same large scar with his fingers. she didn’t seem to notice. instead, she asked quietly, her voice shaking: “are we in a clearing? sort of round, even space, except for what might be a sharp cliff jutting up somewhere overrrr there?” and seraphim pointed to where, yes, there was an abrupt lift in the rocky surface of the wasteland.

“uh—yeah, morgan. we are.”

“and we’ve been walking for what feels like—what? a few hours?”

charlie rolled his shoulders. “feels like more than a few, but, yeah. hours. … why?”

slowly, she turned, staring at the ground. and when she looked at him, she was smiling. sweat glistened on her forehead, sliding along her eyebrows.

“groovy. we found the point.”

but charlie almost didn’t hear her.

pinballs.

they looked like pinballs.

she didn’t have pupils anymore. it was entirely possible she wasn’t looking at him.

“jesus christ.” this was the worst time to be hit by an overwhelming sense of nostalgia for an arcade charlie wasn’t even sure was still around the south end.

“you sound upset, chuck.” she laughed but it wasn’t cheerful.

“morgan, uhm—your eyes—“ seraphim pursed her lips together, and it looked like oil was starting to roll down her cheeks.

oh, he thought. she’s crying.

“yeah, uh, i can’t see anymore, but hey, again, it’s okay, because we found the point. i know we did. if we’re—if we’re in a place—“ she sniffed. “that looks like what i described, we’re here. this is—this is it—“

seraphim swallowed. it was just all darkness. just like it’d gone all the other times she’d lost her sight. but this—something about this was different. her entire face ached, sure, that was familiar. but it was like a pulse both hot and freezing in equal portions was moving back further and further into her skull. like someone pressing fingers into her eye sockets.

she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to ignore it. especially if ran its course.

“so…” charlie began, slowly. “now we wait.”

seraphim nodded. she didn’t bother to wipe at her face, leaving the black tracks where they were. “yeah. now we wait. we uh. we can rest now. things are going to be all right, you’ll see. we just ah, we just wait right here…”

wordlessly, charlie took her elbow. he eased her down next to him, and they sat together in the quiet, backs warmed against the stone.

“morgan?”

“chuck?”

she heard him chuckle, but just once. “what will happen to you? if they don’t find us?”

seraphim sighed. “i’ll lose my eyes. it’s ah, ocular degeneration. they’re uhm. disintegrating, but at least they’ll look shiny before they go. and you’ll get heatstroke.” she said it in the same tone she would’ve described a sports play.

“and we’ll both die.”

“… yeah. we’ll both die.”

* *

it was christmas eve.

nova had never felt less festive in her life—although every time she looked at merlin, she imagined he felt the same.

and she had never felt more defeated.

she didn’t know how many times that day they’d gone over the formula. she didn’t know how many times she’d excused herself to cry. she knew that dinner was happening—had happened?—upstairs, and that three plates had been carefully prepared, left on a desk, and went untouched.

she was sure they all looked a bit thinner at this point.

wyvern and merlin were speaking softly behind her, but nova was standing just where she’d stood for countless hours. staring at the numbers at the whiteboard. willing them to speak. and they still hadn’t.

so she leaned back on her heel, rubbing at her face. just for a second—she let her mind wander to charlie. she pressed her fingers over her eyes.

she thought of him smiling. out in the snow. she thought of watching him from far away, of him looking back at her.

she pictured love in his eyes, lips curled into a crooked smile. snowflakes on his eyelashes. not saying anything at all. just there. with her.

just there with her...

“… jeremy?” she had to cough, her voice initially coming out as a kind of croak. “jeremy. hey. i think i have an idea.” wyvern grabbed his coffee, gone lukewarm. he took a big swig anyway, not that it helped much these days. “these variables right here… these are the factors that sort of shape how it’s looking for a signal, right? this is the ‘how’ in how we’re looking?”

wyvern hummed, nodding. “you got it.”

“okay, so what—what if they weren’t saying anything?”

merlin frowned. “i don’ follow.”

nova’s heart seemed to lift an inch or two. oh my god—oh my god. her hands shook as she grabbed for the eraser, swiping off chunks of the board. wyvern started, “ellie, dude what are—!”

“what if we’re looking for a signal that’s not there?” she asked. but it wasn’t with despair, it wasn’t something dark. merlin’s expression fell anyway, and he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, looking to the ground.

she shook her head, trying to get her thoughts into some kind of order. “i mean—we know morgan had her glasses on. that was in the footage. and she probably still has them, hamish, she’s still alive, i know she is, they both are, but what if… what if we changed this so that it wasn’t looking for a signal? what if we found a way to only look for power, anything with a switch in the on position?”

wyvern clasped his fingers behind his neck, gazing up at the ceiling. “like we were just looking for any familiar electrical components that were running… not any that were trying to communicate with us, specifically.” he inhaled deeply, putting his hands over his mouth—and softly made a sort of gentle, screaming sound. “… we’re dumb. we’re so fucking dumb.”

“shut up, no we’re not. i don’t even know if this’ll work—“

but merlin already had a marker in his hand, writing up new equations that they hadn’t used before. it felt better on her eyes already.

“it’ll work.” he said, and quieter, added: “… because i don’t know what else to do if it doesn’t.”

“all we have to do is configure the eye.” wyvern muttered, right at merlin’s shoulder in two long strides, “if we do that, we recast our proverbial net over the same spaces we’ve been looking, and we’ve got to find them. we gotta.”

nova felt a surge of hope surge up so strong she staggered back, hitting the edge of a desk with her tailbone. wyvern looked back over his shoulder at her. she was smiling.

it took her a second to remember what it felt like. to recognize it. hope.

“we will. … we will.”

* *

“… i’m sorry.” seraphim tightened one arm around charlie’s swaddled robotic piece, pressing the bundle more into her chest. she focused on the dull pressure points that ran diagonally over her heartbeat. anything to distract her from the painful blindness.

“why.”

she almost broke at how tired he sounded, how hoarse. like the sand had finally gotten into his vocal cords, rubbed them raw. how long had they been sitting here? how long had they been gone?

she could see the time in the corner of her spectacle frames. she could see the single bar of battery that was left. still no signal, naturally. there wouldn’t be any to be found here.

at least they’ll have the video. they’ll have the audio—this. they’ll know. even if my glasses are all that’s left. they’ll know.

seraphim refused to consider that their bodies would rot here. die here, maybe. but stay? absolutely not. it was getting more and more difficult to keep her thoughts in words. they were starting to devolve into just screaming.

“i thought—i thought that it would be easier for them to find us here.” she swallowed. “i thought—“

“there was never a guarantee.” charlie interrupted, sadly. “it’s okay. it’s okay…”

one of seraphim’s hands had been lying, palm-up, on the ground between them. charlie slid his underneath it.

seraphim opened her mouth to say something, but: “let’s just sit for a while. okay? we’re—we’re both tired. it’ll be all right if we just sit, right?”

so she nodded, letting her head fall against his shoulder. she closed her eyes, not that it changed her view.

and she didn’t know if she fell asleep, or if she passed out. she didn’t know how much time passed before she was hearing charlie speak to her, “… you seein’ this?”

she didn’t open her eyes. what’d be the point? “seein’ what, charlie.”

“it—it looks like a wisp.”

god, she was so tired. she missed merlin. she kept trying to will the scent of his cologne into her nose, but all that she could smell was haze.

maybe, if she fell back asleep, she would dream…

“a wisp?”

charlie didn’t move. he just watched this point of light, moving on its on like a specter. it had blinked into existence maybe a few feet over where they were sitting, a sudden star. and he’d watched it, curious but detached.

what was going to happen was going to happen. he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it now.

the light had floated down towards them until it was finally on level with his eyes. there it stayed, motionless. like it was looking at him.

“yeah,” he said. “a wisp of the woods.”

seraphim didn’t say anything or lift her head. even if she had, she wouldn’t have seen charlie tilt his head to one side, and reach out.

she wouldn’t have seen the flash of light that enveloped them.

* *

nova stood over drake’s shoulder the entire time, watching every single keystroke, watching the grids go out over and over and over again. wyvern was on the other side. merlin was pacing. nova hadn’t quite seen him nervous before. it was unsettling.

“this is the last sort of quadrant that the gate was locked on to before they split,” drake explained, “so if mo’s glasses still have any life in them, they’d be—“ a soft ding. a small green dot, pulsing like a heartbeat, and with every pulse came a chime. “—here.” it came out almost a whisper. “they’re—they’re right here, guys.”

nova’s eyes stung. thank you, thank you, thank you… “okay, so, we’ve got a lock on them, how do we get them here?” but wyvern was already at the gate console, and a familiar hum filled the room. nova had never been so happy to see the faint blue rings, to see the tendrils spark into being their proper shade of white. but they weren’t reaching out, no. it was like they were flowing into a space back behind the gate, somewhere they couldn’t see.

“we employ the fuckin’ traceback is what we do. drake, how strong’s the grip?”

drake frowned. “strong enough for a pull. we’re doing this right now?”

“they’re outside of our flow of time, we have no idea what their status is, where they landed, if they’re hurt, or how much time has passed, we’re doing this now. merlin, do me a solid and use that comm right there to get aly and caroline down here? just… just in case. now, everybody just stand tight for a second.” for a few minutes, nothing happened, save for a tense silence broken only by wyvern’s furious typing. the gate gave its own background white noise.

and rougarou and cherub did make it down to the basement, equipment bags in tow, right around the same time that there a sudden snap; charlie and seraphim materialized about four feet off the floor and unceremoniously dropped. the thuds would’ve echoed if it wasn’t for the rug.

merlin had to fling his arms around nova to keep her from charging forward. “charlie? charlie!”

“easy, easy, we need to let them get checked out first—!“

charlie’s eyes were closed, his countenance peaceful, as if he was just sleeping. cherub had her hands on this throat, his chest—“he’s breathing. he’s breathing, but—“

“they’re burning up.” rougarou had been left to contend with seraphim, who hadn’t quite fallen asleep inside of the wave the brought them home.

their temperatures clocked in at 102.5, according to the small reader in cherub��s hands. their breaths rattled, rasped.

and merlin watched, horrified, at seraphim’s ravaged, blinded frame. he couldn’t immediately think of a way to articulate how he felt about her eyes.

seraphim felt the cool air of the basement first. and yes, she could hear them, hear everyone. after a moment, recognized them. but it wasn’t rougaoru’s voice that made seraphim realize in whose arms she was lying in, it was her perfume.

that brought her back. the smell of recovery, the smell of home, the smell of returning after centralia and other hells.

“… aly?” seraphim choked, hand fisting the material of rougarou’s shirt, trying to cling to anything familiar. but she didn’t let go of charlie’s arm. she had a white-knuckled grip on that bundle. there were hands on her face again, her eyebrows.

“morgan… morgan, what did you do to your eyes?”

“i’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“if you can crack jokes, you aren’t dying.”

nova surged against merlin’s grip, even as she could see that charlie wasn’t awake. and she wondered how he stood so still, seeing seraphim finally succumb to unconsciousness.

but to seraphim, all she knew was that she could feel the floor. she could feel and smell rougaoru. she was breathing clean air. there wasn’t an entity with static following them anymore. no desert. no skybound city. no white light beyond what she’d left behind.

she was safe. she was home.

and so.

she let herself black out.

* * *

charlie woke up slowly.

he hadn’t realized how much pain he had been in until the pain was gone, replaced by a strange warmth that made his head swim. he blinked a few times until the ceiling lights came into focus.

i’m in medical. they found us. we’re home.

he inhaled deeply, exhaled.

home. home. home.

there was beeping somewhere in the background as he tilted his head and saw nova, asleep in a chair next to his bed (along with an iv line that ended in his arm—that explained the lightness). she was so close. he watched her chest rise and fall, tried to memorize how her hair fell over her countenance. his heart sank at the darkness underneath her eyes. her face looked thinner.

there were questions that roamed around on the edges of his mind. he didn’t know where seraphim was, or his arm. and he was vaguely sure that there hadn’t been christmas lights up when they’d left. how long had they been gone?

but charlie left them where they were. for now, there was just one thing he wanted to do with what little energy he had.

gently, charlie reached out and took nova’s hand, moving it so that it rested between his head and his pillow. he pressed a slight kiss into her palm, a promise. he looked up at her one more time, though his vision stung and blurred. he closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat.

on the other end of the medical bay, merlin sat in a chair against the far wall, carefully regarding seraphim. she had bandages wrapped around her head, covering her eyes; there were dark stains that reminded him a bit of smudged ink. he made no move to be closer, just watched her, holding his chin in one hand.

and charlie’s last thought before he fell back asleep rather mirrored the quartermaster’s.

she’s worth all of this.

… is she worth all of this?

somewhere upstairs, merlin could hear raucous singing, muted by the walls.

“said the king to the people everywhere, ‘listen to what i say! pay for peace, people everywhere! listen to what i say—the child, the child, sleeping in the night, he will bring us goodness and light, he will bring us goodness and light—!”

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is-this-a-skam-account · 6 years ago

Text

Shelter Chapter 2 by Shawnie1718 ao3

The next week, Lucas’s heat hits him like a truck. He had planned for it, since he had stopped taking his suppressants in order to trigger the heat. However, when he woke up, he was covered in sweat and slick and was overtaken by the worst headache in the world. Lucas quickly ran to the bathroom to take some Motrin for the cramps. He downed the pills two at a time and glanced in the mirror.

Lucas groaned and rubbed at his under eye bags. He looked like crap, which usually happens during his heats. He isn’t one of those lucky Omegas that tend to look like literal angels whenever they go into heat. However, Mika has said that Lucas smells like an absolute dream, which means his roommate has to wear a clothespin on his nose to avoid accidentally breathing in Lucas’s scent and triggering any of his Alpha instincts of domination to take over.

Lucas trudges back to his bed. He strips off his shirt and pants as he feels the fire inside him start to burn. Great, the best part. He whines involuntarily as he climbs back in bed, pulling his pillow close to him, his inner Omega crying out for some type of skin-to-skin contact. He just wants someone to roam their hands down his back and cuddle him until he falls asleep.

Lucas groans into his blanket. He hates being an Omega.

When he wakes up later in the afternoon, he absolutely reeks. He definitely smells like an Omega in heat. He reaches for his phone, the bright screen not helping his headache at all.

@srodulv sent you a message!

Lucas felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. Eliott must have sent him something while he was asleep. Lucas eagerly opened up the message.

@srodulv: two weeks and one day!

Lucas smiled, the idiot was counting down the days until their planned meet-up. Good thing Lucas had his heat now, rather than having to move it around the meet up with Eliott.

@lucallament: wow what a romantic.

@srodulv: well, I have to be the romantic for both of us. All you like to do is make fun of me!

@lucallament: ❤️

@lucallament: is that better?

@srodulv: much 💕

Lucas purred. He purred. Has he ever purred before? Maybe once when he was ten.

As they continued texting Lucas’s inner Omega was sprinting around inside him. Begging Lucas to ask Eliott to come to his apartment. To hug him. To take care of him. Of course, Lucas did none of the above. He managed to suppress the urges and down another Motrin.

@srodulv: oh! I got another house plant by the way!

@lucallament: I wonder how long it’s going to take you to kill this one.

@srodulv: D:

@srodulv: do you wanna see it?

@lucallament: sure! Send a photo?

@srodulv: I was thinking more of a video.

@lucallament: that works too

@srodulv: well, more of like a video chat.

Lucas froze. How could he FaceTime Eliott right now? In the middle of his heat? Well, he is still in phase one. The phase where he just wants to nap 24/7, so his hormones haven’t completely taken over. Also, what would happen if he rejected? He didn’t want to make Eliott feel bad...

@lucallament: okay, give me one sec.

Lucas dashed around his room, placing anything away that may give Eliott a clue as to Lucas’s situation at the moment. He forced all his dirty clothes into his hamper, and nesting blankets folded neatly at the end of his bed. His inner Omega growled at the fact that he would have to rebuild the nest later, but it will have to suffice. Lucas quickly slipped on a clean sweatshirt before clicking the call button. His heart was pumping in his ears, making it seem as if his whole head was shaking.

Suddenly, Eliott’s face appeared on Lucas’s laptop and Lucas became hyper aware how much he, himself, looked like crap. And how goddamned photoshopped Eliott looks.

“Salut!” Eliott greeted.

Lucas smiled, “salut.”

Shit, this boy really is gorgeous. Lucas thought as Eliott’s image suddenly started moving. He had gotten up from some type of sitting arrangement. A couch? And walked into another room, flicking on a bright light.

“You look...cute?” Eliott questioned and breathed a laugh.

Lucas rolled his eyes, “if I look so bad I may as well just go.” Lucas said and threatened to close his laptop screen.

“No! No!” Eliott said frantically, “I just hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Lucas shrugged, not the best. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” And my butt is sticking to my pants and all I want to do is sleep.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott said, and it seemed like he’s genuinely sorry. Lucas swallowed the purr that was making its way up his throat. “Well, I hope my new plant can brighten your day!” Eliott said, his shoulders shrugging happily before flipping the camera around. “Tada!”

Lucas gasped and his smile widened, “oh! Forget-me-nots!”

He could hear Eliott chuckle from behind the camera. “Yeah! They caught my eye when I was at the store today. I was between them and a hydrangea.”

“What made you choose the forget-me-not?”

The camera flipped around and... was that a blush coating Eliott’s cheeks? “Well, it reminded me of someone,” his eyes found sudden interest in anything except the camera.

Holy shit this boy will be the death of him, “they’re really pretty.” Lucas said, trying to make his heart calm down. Doesn’t help that his heat is upon him, making everything that Eliott says, everything that Eliott does, resonate inside him. “Uh, anyways, why did you want to video chat?”

Eliott shrugs again and licks his lips briefly. Lucas feels victimized by the action. “I don’t know...I mean it’s lonely here in Japan,” Eliott laughs, “I guess I wanted a taste of back home. Oh!” Eliott exclaimed, nearly spooking Lucas, “I met a fan on the street and look what they gave me!” When Eliott came back into frame he was wearing a fluffy white bunny hat. And...were the ears flopping? Lucas felt like he was going to implode from cuteness overload.

Lucas bursts into laughter. But after Eliott places the hat back down, Lucas’s eyes soften. He can totally relate to the feeling when you’re far from home. When he goes out on tours, within the first couple weeks he already begins to feel homesick. “Well, if there is anything I can do to help you feel better...”

Eliott moves again, this time through a couple sets of doors and flops down on a...bed? “Would you sing me something?” Even though the bottom half of Eliott’s face is covered by a pillow, Lucas can still see the smile taking over his face and the crinkle of his eyes into half crescents.

Lucas feels anxious, stomach churning, palms sweating. “I...don’t know. My voice isn’t the best right now.”

“Then could you play something on an instrument for me?”

Lucas pauses, “sure. What instrument?”

Eliott shrugs again, “whatever is fine.”

Lucas nods and places his computer off his lap. He reaches for the closest instrument which happens to be his acoustic guitar. When he positions himself in front of the camera again, his heart is racing. He tries to avoid Eliott’s eyes, but it’s so damn hard when he keeps looking at him like that. Lucas strums a couple chords, and neither of them say a word to each other. It’s a perfect silence.

Lucas decides to play his rendition of City of Stars he had written for the guitar when the movie first came out. He was going to post it as a video, but decided against it. Once he finished he was finally able to look back up and meet the searing gaze that had watched him with the utmost interest throughout the entire song.

“That was...” Eliott began, but let his sentence trail off into an amused breath-y laugh.

Lucas shrugged, licking his lips as he put his guitar back. “It was okay. I haven’t practiced the piece in a while.”

“That was much better than okay! That was like, I don’t even know! Putain, Lucas!” Eliott exclaimed and ran a hand through his hair.

There was a silence that passed over them as Lucas looked down at his blanket, taking sudden interest in pulling at the tassels coming off. Finally Lucas asked, “what are you going to name your new flower?”

Eliott took his time to reply. And in that short period Lucas kept thinking how nice it would feel to have Eliott run his hand through his hair and maybe pull on it. Both in a kinky and non-kinky way. Lucas thought about how soft Eliott’s lips looked, and how he had natural bedroom eyes... “...Lucas?”

Oh shit, he had completely zoned out. Maybe the next phase of his heat was coming soon. “Ah, sorry. What did you say?”

Eliott chuckled, “I was saying I don’t really have any ideas. Do you? I mean I already have flowers named after all the seven dwarfs from Snow White, right? So I can’t name it after any of them. I could name it like...”

“Susan.” Lucas said plainly, which made Eliott burst into laughter.

“Susan?!”

Lucas shrugged, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, it’s my guitars name.”

That made Eliott freeze, “you name your instruments?”

“Don’t make it seem weird! I don’t name my plants!”

Eliott laughed again, and Lucas felt like he was getting high off the sound. “Fair enough. But you know,” Eliott pauses, “I was thinking of a name more along the lines of Lucas.” Eliott’s eyes flick up for a second to capture Lucas’s.

Lucas feels like he can’t breathe, and he tries to joke it off, “awe I’m getting a plant named after me! How sweet.”

Eliott smiles happily. Lucas swears he can practically see his tail wagging.

Lucas takes a quick glance at the time. The next phase of his heat will probably start in an hour or so, so he should end the conversation in about thirty minutes which will give him enough time to rebuild his nest and prepare...other things...

Eliott’s laughter pulls him out of his train of thought, “what?” Lucas asks.

Eliott shrugs, “you’re just so cute when you’re deep in thought.”

That’s something a boyfriend would say! Lucas dismisses the thought as soon as it enters his head. He clears his throat, “so, what about you, pretty boy. Do you have any other hobbies? Besides drawing.” Lucas meant for the “pretty boy” to come out more patronizing than it had.

“Awe you just called me pretty boy!” Eliott exclaimed and Lucas rolls his eyes. “Uh, but to answer you question, not really? I mean-“ there was a sudden ringing coming from Eliott’s phone which made his image freeze and flicker. “Shoot, Lucas, I have to go. Talk again soon?”

“Talk again soon.” Lucas said reassuringly and then, “two weeks and ten hours.”

Eliott smiled and his eyes turned up into little crescents. “Two weeks and nine hours and fifty-seven minutes.”

It was Lucas’s time to smile like an idiot, “just go, Eliott.”

“Bye, Lulu!” Eliott got out quickly before ending the FaceTime.

——

Phase two of Lucas’ heat felt like a tornado. Sometimes his mind couldn’t keep up with his body, and other times his body couldn’t keep up with his mind. He felt detached from himself every time another series of hormones hit him like a wave. Dragging him under, leaving him gasping for breath by the end.

Lucas would never admit it, but the only thing that kept him sane was imagining what Eliott would smell like. What it would feel like if Eliott’s nimble fingers grazed his scent gland. How it would feel if Eliott were to massage it until Lucas was puddy in his hands. Lucas wondered what it would be like to watch Eliott’s pupil expand until the very edges of his iris if he happened to breathe in Lucas’s heat scent. Lucas wondered if he would feel frozen in place, if he would be scared or perhaps excited. He imagined Eliott would have control of his Alpha instincts on a regular basis, but Lucas imagined Eliott perhaps letting go of the control in front of him, letting himself succumb to his dominating instincts. And Lucas imagined the after hours, after the heat between them died down. How it would feel to be spooned from behind, Eliott’s nose resting in the crook between Lucas’s neck and shoulder, mere centimeters away from his scent gland. His hands would pull Lucas close until all air between them vanished, as if trying to mold them permanently together.

#skam france

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theharlequinwriter · 6 years ago

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Guided Arrow ..........part 1

Summary : Being Thea’s twin sister and also part of team arrow when you wake up in the another universe alone and no way home.

warnings : Swear words and PTSD

word count : 2,402

Before I knew it Barry was reaching for my hand and we were falling down a building and then well I don’t really know all I saw was white and when I woke up I was one the side of the road soaking wet and clearly not in star city anymore.

‘’Ollie!!......Speedy......BARRY!!!!.’’

No one answered.

‘’what the fuck happened?’’

Pulling my hood back I put my mask in my pocket and threw my bow over my back and started to walk sticking my thumb out every other foot. Finally reaching a nearby diner I asked for a booth and a cup of coffee while I pulled out all my gadgets trying to find Felicity’s or Barry's voice trying to find me.

‘’you look like you’re lost’’

Darting my head up I saw a man with blue eyes, black hair and oddly a trench coat.

‘’you can say I am in a way.’’

I winked at him as his very handsome friends walked over.

‘’Cas what the hell are you doing?’’

‘’Talking to miss.... I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.’’

‘’y/n Queen’’

‘Names Sam and Dean Winchester’’

The taller one with the long hair stuck out his hand towards me, grabbing his hand I could feel the caclus on his palm from oddly enough....a gun.

‘’So, Cas said you’re lost?’’

Dean asked as he shuffled into my booth.... uninvited.

‘’Yeah, I guess, the last thing I remember is reaching for flash.......my friends hand as I fell then everything went black. I woke up on the side of the road and made my way here.’’

‘’Well we can help you find your way back if you like.’

‘’YES, thank you.’’

Walking outside dean helped me into the car and we were off to their house or what they called their bunker. Once inside i made my way to their version of the quiver. Setting my arrows and hood on the couch began to scan their place. Clearly they really are brothers, not sure on Cas thou.. Possibly dean's boyfriend? not by the way dean watched my ass get into the car. Walking around I found their library full of supernatural information.

‘Where were you guys when darhk was around?’’

Dean came into the room with 4 beers. Handing one to me as Sam sat down and opened his laptop.

‘’So, let's start with your hometown or where you were last.’’

‘’Star city.’’

I watched as Sam typed it into his keyboard and his eyes going wide.

‘’uhm y/n that city doesn’t exist at least not that google knows.’’

‘'w-W-W WHAT DO YOU MEAN DOESN’T EXSIT I WAS JUST THERE!!!’’

‘’Google says nothing found for a Star city.’’

‘’MY WHOLE LIFE IS THERE, MY BROTHER, MY TWIN SISTER, MY NEPHEW! MY BESTFRIENDS MY FAMILY GOD DAMN IT!!!’’

I threw the beer onto the floor.

‘’’listen y/n lets google your family maybe they will come up, you did say your sister in law was a hacker maybe she's hiding the results.’’

‘Okay my Sibling are Oliver and Thea Queen, my best friend is Iris West Allen, Her husband is Barry Allen.’’

Dean looked up at me

‘’You're Brother and best friend are named after comic books?’’

‘NO?’’

Sam ran to the other room carrying back a few plastic covered comic books with the titles. GREEN ARROW and the other THE FLASH. I felt my head going dizzy and everything went black. When i came too I was lying on a couch, I could hear Sam and dean talking.

‘’Maybe she escaped the looney bin.’’

‘’maybe she hit her head harder than she thought.’’

‘’OR THE HOT CHICK IS CRAZY!’’

I made a coughing noise as I walked into the room.

‘Come sit, I'm going to blow your minds.’

We all headed in the war room and sat down.

‘’So, my name is Y/n Queen, my brother is Oliver Queen and Yes he is the Green Arrow, My sister and I are quickdraw and speedy. My Best friend is the wife of the flash, we discovered other worlds or dimensions a long time ago. I'm guessing that’s where I am in a world where I'm nothing more than words on a page.’’

Both Winchesters sat there with their mouths gaping.

‘’So, you're like a real super hero?’’

‘’I guess so, Ollie more is than me, I'm just backup.’’

‘And how did you get here?’’

‘Cisco must have breached me right as I grabbed Barry sending me flying through a breach, although this would be a far new distance for him....I'm happy i made it.’’

‘’Breach?’’

‘’’Rips or portals into other worlds.’’

‘’I need some air.’’

Dean stepped out of the room leaving me, Sam and Cas alone.

‘So, are their angels in your world?’

‘’not that im aware of cas , We have the league of shadows . My brother married their leader, We do have magic buts its really bad.’’

‘’Magics bad here too but more of like hocus pocus and hexes.’’

‘’so, no vigilantes?’’

‘’Not that I know of, I mean we are hunters if that counts.’’

‘’it’ll do.’’

Sam smiled as dean walked into the room.

‘’can i shoot an arrow?’’

‘’Sure dean.’’

We went outside where I let dean have 2 arrows to shoot, he missed both times. Taking my aim, I shot to perfect straight into the apple Sam had placed on the car.

‘’How did you learn to do that?’’

‘’My brother, after slade …. I mean Death Stroke killed my mom, Ollie never wanted me and Thea to be unsafe again and after i busted him on being arrow and dig being spartan....Sorry Dig is my brothers right hand man. He welcomed me to the team as quickdraw due to the fact im a quick shot.’’

‘’wow.... you been through it.’’

‘’ oh, I got stories that would make your mind implode. Ive met a alien well a kryptonian .’’

‘’YOU FUCKIN MET SUPERMAN!!!!’

Dean was shouting now

‘’Well yeah but I meant his cousin Supergirl, she like my pen pal.’’

‘’ So I guess you're staying here till you can get home.’’

‘Thank you, Sam.,’’

Later that night

Laying here in this strange bed in a whole other world completely alone.... alone, the one thing I fear was to be alone. I got up and headed for the library at least it has a good book maybe they will have a new series I can love. Stepping into the library I found Sam researching through a bunch of lore.

‘’Is he real?’’

Sam pointed at a comic with a man named Spiderman.

‘’maybe but not in my world or at least hasn’t made himself known.’’

He nodded to the chair next to him. Sliding into it he handed me a piece of candy.

‘’can't sleep?’’

‘’no im on earth 1 time’’

‘Earth 1?’

‘Well since I knew that one first that’s earth 1 , Supergirl is from earth 3 and I making this earth 4.’’

‘’thanks?’’

‘’So What do you like to do for fun here?’’

‘'Don’t really have time , the hunt never stops , I've actually been to hell , met lucifer and god oh and I Lost my soul and met Gods sister and died a thousand times , so has Dean and Cas.’

I could see the pain welling in his eyes, he was tired.

‘’Sounds likes my brother hehe Hes been through it for 5 years I thought he was dead and then poof he wasn’t, but he wasn’t ollie. He had scars and tattoo, spoke Russian and was very odd. He ended up letting his anger go and now we are happy again even for a moment, But your right lives like ours it only ends in death.’’

Sam laughed as he handed me a beer from the mini frige.

‘’Thats why we gotta go down swinging.’’

‘’Cheers to that.’

Tinking the beers together we continued to exchanged stories and advice. Sam made me feel safe like my life wasn't guns and masks and his wasn’t demons and vampires.

‘’Hi sam , Whose this.... she isnt from here.’’

I screamed as a young man with blonde air appeared out of nowhere.

‘’ y/ n this is jack.....lucifer's son.’’

‘’HOLY SHIT....i mean hi, im sorry im not used to people appearing like that unless they plan to kill me.’’

‘’I think its my fault you’re here.’'

‘’Jack what do you mean its your fault?’’

Before he answered he was gone.

‘’he does this when he is upset and feels guilty, he runs.’’

‘’poor guy.’’

‘Well he is only 5 months old.’’

‘’yeah well …..wait what?’’

‘’he aged in order to survive.’’

‘’oh...so are you completely human?’’

‘’yeah I mgiht be missing a bit of my soul here and there.’’

Sam smiled at his own remark, we headed into the library to research anything on other worlds. 3 hours and 5 cups of coffee each later neither Sam or I found anything besides that I may be stuck here forever. Sam already promised I have a home with them here and I will never be alone as long as hes around. I couldn’t help but notice how warm and safe I feel around him.

I woke up to the feeling of someone breathing, as I opened my eyes I found myself on sams chest cluctching a book on demi gods while sam had one arm wrapped around me and they other on a book on greek gods. We must of fallen asleep on the couch studying , he looks so happy when hes asleep like he isnt living a hard life everyday. Before I could take in anymore of the moment dean came busting into the room causing sam to jump shoving me to the floor.

‘Jacks back’

We all ran to the den where jack sat on the couch clutching his head in his hands. I walked over placing my hand on his shoulder.

‘are you okay?’’

‘im sorry’’

‘’for what....bringing me here. Ive been through worse trust me.’

He looked at me with his bloodshot eyes and buried his head into my chest hugging me tightly. He was still sobbing but at least now he knew I didn’t blame him.

‘so nothing from jack yet?’’

It has been almost 3 weeks since I arrived here , Cas has been working with jack to see if maybe he can re open the rip to send me home. I offered to ask barry and iris to help jack understand himself better, run some test and see what he can and cant handle. Then there's sam , we have gotten really close since I arrived late night studying and him teaching me how to put up warding's and devils traps. I even promised him id get the anti-possession tattoo once im home. Sitting in the den reading the local paper scanning for any sign of supernatural creatures.

‘hey y’n’’

Sam came into the room handing me a cup of coffee and sitting next to me , smiling at me god I love it when he smiles. Snapping out of my trance I had to nod and try to catch up.

‘so jack thinks if we can find a dream walker we can send you home.’

‘’where do we find one of these dream walkers’’

‘’well that’s the thing we only knew one and shes dead but jack thinks he has a lead on another in ohio, him and dean went to check it out . Cas heard of one in California so he went out that way , that just leaves us.’’

Falling into the chair in the library I picked up a comic with the title green arrow looking at the way they drew my brother.

‘’ollie doesn’t have a beard ‘’

Sam chuckled.

‘’what?’’

‘’just how you call him ollie makes him seem like he isnt in a comic book in our world.’’

‘’this should be so odd to you I mean look what I found.’’

I held up a anime comic named supernatural starring sam and dean.

‘'that was written by god , not by a geek in a basement.’’

‘’ so whats sam / dean?’’

‘’how did you hear about that?’’

‘’im a vigilante , if I want info I get it.’’

‘’its nothing , its gross.’’

‘’so am I in one of these books or do I not matter?’’

‘’they stopped being made after dean went to hell , cas is isnt in them either..... but you matter to me ‘

Looking up sam was starring at me with a small smirk on his lips. Shaking his head I could see him searching the room in a painc.

‘’you said something about food and a movie?’

‘uhh yea set up in the tv room I got burgers and venom’’

About halfway into the movie sam got up to leave the room, wondering what was up I decide to follow him into the kitchen , sam was pacing the room on the phone.

‘’what do you mean she was a phony? , y/n is going to be heart broken.’’

‘’yeah I know dean but I do care for her ...of course id love to be with her........dean she has a family and a life....we weren't ever supposed to meet.’’

He hung up his phone turning towards me.

‘’y/n......uhm’’

Without thought I moved forward crashing my lps into his pulling him closer by is plaid collar , his fands found my hips lifting me onto my tip toes pulling me into him. Taking a step back I looked up at him feeling the blood rush to my face when dean came rushing in.

‘hey robin hood we might need your help.’’

Climbing into the impala we drove to a empty house where three bodies laid on the porch and woman with short hair came forward extending her hand.

‘’names Jody , dean here tells me your one of us.’’

Nodding I looked at dean.

‘why do you need me here?’’

‘’because this guy here says hes from star city’’

Stepping into the door, a man with his hands and feet tied laid on the floor with a bag on his head, reaching out i lifted the bag to revel cold dead eyes and a buzz cut along with the smile of the devil and his body covered in tattoos.

‘’d-d—d—d-d- dia'’

‘’hello y/n , Miss me baby doll ?’’

#Supernatural imagines #supernatural #sam winchester #sammy #winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester oneshot #green arrow #oliver queen #thea queen #speedy #littlebrothersammyimagines

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deztinywarriors · 7 years ago

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ES Spectre 2.0 Chapter 1-2

#Playchoices #endless summer #adventure #ES #fanfic #Jake x MC

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charlyawilliams · 7 years ago

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Each time we fall in love, it feels more shallow doesn’t it? Similar to a draining river, leaks of you slipping into the tepid air with the break of another heart. I’d say each heartbreak becomes easier, a thinner veil of clearing glass that you can peer through to the past in order to help you pick up the pieces. Putting yourself together is so simple after a while, and the core, the part of you that doesn’t break, gets larger, stronger, and more sustainable to the pain of loss and love. But the clear and never ending through line remains the same

That once the smoke clears, you are broken and you stare deep into a hole and see a figure, a presence, the person who broke you first.

There is forever a crevice deep within us that holds onto the first love we ever had. It’s a dirty, damp place filled with memories, most of which are bad if you had the majority experience. I am gifted to lie on the other side of that fence.

When I was 17, I fell in love with a boy.

Now, when I say fell in love I mean, holy shit, I fell in love. And I remember the feeling because I still feel it to this day. Such an intense landscape of colors that surround the memories of us that I can funnel so much quiet contemplative energy to. It’s the only place I can truly store my sadness, where the bitter loneliness of my current state won’t taint it. I can replay those nights together; I can feel them, taste them.

I met him through a friend at work. Who just randomly said, “You know Chris, right? Because you two would get along.”

Two weeks later I showed up at a house party, where he was. He was running around this place like a god damn idiot wearing women’s sunglasses at night asking everyone if he were pretty enough to ‘pull them off’ and if they said yes, he’d literally just pull them off. It was the stupidest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

And that’s what it took. The dumbest joke in the world (which we would argue over a lot when we would have a ‘dumb joke off’) to cause a teenager who had never really opened her mind to anything, ever, to pull apart and crumble.

Chris dealt with me in a way no one else would, which mean he very rarely put up with my bullshit. Charly at 17 was conceited, a brat, ignorant and brash. My mind was a salted sea of nothing until Chris came along. He found it his personal mission to teach me things I’d never heard of before. He, of course, was a philosophy major, which was just the worst because he never shut up about it.

Our first date, I took him to try sushi (Tony’s Sushi, which I guess if you’ve known me for awhile, know its one of my favorite places on earth. Now you know why) He’d never had it before and also decided that night that he was never going to retire the ‘walrus’ chopstick joke and created a walrus character that I kept feeding fish to. We took a walk around the Ocala Square where we named all the horses. Chris yammered on about a thousand things, and for the first time, I became the listener. He was so invested in his study of life, and it swept through me like wildfire.

I tried everything to win this guy over, all my good moves. But in Florida, the good moves are just wearing a titty shirt, short skirt, and talking about how much we love giving head. Again, Chris saw right through this ass-hatery and shut me down about it pretty quickly. But I still played the card of awkward late teen turning twenty and crashed and burned almost every chance I got. Chris would just laugh and give me this stupid crooked smile that made him look sleepy. (“Take a nap you weirdo”)

So, after a few years of putting my best foot forward, I settled into an amazing friendship.

Then I moved to Charleston.

I would creep on him about twice a year when I went back home to Florida. For the next four years, that was our relationship. We’d text every few months, and I’d see him briefly while he poured drinks at whatever bar he was working at that year.

My heart ached, as it still does, to be with him. I hated Charleston, even though it gave me my love of improv and taught me a very difficult lesson. But it also gave me the rare opportunity to begin one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

When people say you shouldn’t change yourself for anyone, I think that’s bullshit. People should change you, shape you, mold you with experience and words and art and create you. You can internalize this but you can’t deny it. Be the best version of yourself, but let other people help you realize this.

“My dream job is to be a stand up comedian.” Chris once said to me while we ate sandwiches in a hot tub. Three years later I took the stage at the Upper Deck in Charleston and mumbled my first set of ridiculous jokes to a bare bar and I’d never felt happier. The first thing I did when I got off stage was text him.

“I’m so jealous and proud of you!” in all caps was his response. If you’ve seen me do any type of comedy, whether it’s old stand up, improv, or bits between friends, now you know why.

“Ancient Philosophy is my favorite, Socrates, Aristotle, Parmenides” He would sprinkle me with bits of personal flashes of himself that sent me running to the bookstore. If you’ve seen my very large personal library, now you know why.

“I love it when you teach me about the constellations. It’s so interesting!” If you’ve ever seen me look up at the night sky, when it’s glittering and perfect, and just stare. Well, now you know why.

I made the decision to move to Chicago on a whim with one of my best friends over drinks at a bar. 6 months later, in July, I moved. But before I uprooted myself, that March, I took one more trip to Florida to tell Chris in person.

I coordinated with my cousin that we’d meet up at his bar after seeing a movie (That James Franco Wizard Of Oz) and grab some drinks (Bud Light probably). As always, the first thing He’d do after seeing me was hug me over the bar and demand to know everything about everything in my life, which I obliged, leaving out the fact that Chicago was in my near future.

When Anna, my cousin, slipped away to the restroom, I stood up on the horizontal legs my stool (Something all of you have probably seen me do), and told him I had a secret. When I told him that I was moving to pursue my love of comedy, he literally leapt across the bar, grabbed me in his arms and screamed. He swung me around and around and everything was dizzying and beautiful. “This is so cool!” he said over and over again.

We talked about it all. The scene, what the city was like, what my plans and dreams were, and I just remember him watching me, listening. The details of this memory are what make it my most treasured. His sleepy crooked smile (Chris, take a damn nap, ya weirdo!), the sky blue hue of the bar neon lights that drowned out the similar color of his eyes, his plain gray shirt, which he ALWAYS wore, the cant of his head as he listened.

Anna left soon after, and I closed the bar down with him. We sat trying craft beer until about 4 am, and laughing about literally everything. He took me into the office as he counted the bar till and he gave me a bunch of St. Patty’s Day swag that consisted of sunglasses, green beaded necklaces, and a XXL T-shirt. I drunkenly put all of it on and danced the Charlie Brown dance, which he called the dance of my namesake.

Then we went to Denny’s and he yelled at me for not liking Avocado on my sandwich, and our servers name was Tammy. He then demanded we go back to his place because I was “in no state to stop drinking!”

“Ok ok fine, but that means I’m crashing on your couch.” I huffed out of an open window, staring upwards at the Florida stars. “No, you won’t, you see, I got this bed and it sleeps two.”

He shifted the gears in his car. We sped onwards.

The next morning he took me to Starbucks. Chris had this golden Starbucks card that he loved to flaunt about and I just rolled my eyes because no one should love coffee as much as that boy did.

When he dropped me off at the bar, he gave me his signature hug and I trotted off, screaming over my shoulder that I’d be back to steal him away to Chicago someday.

And that was the last time I ever saw him.

A storm took him from me. Violent and unforgiving, terrible and pure. I remember everything about him; I remember everything about the day I found out.

They say the hurt gets better, but that’s bullshit. It just gets covered up. Shallow love that feels great at the time, but internally you’re still harboring a core so unbreakable and designingly you that the pain never changes. Sometimes, that same storm washes over me, and it feels like I’m finding out all over again. Its so overwhelming that it vertigoes everything around me, and I’m lying on the floor ugly crying because I miss him so fucking much.

It tremors and breaks the very ground I’m trying to cling to, and on some days, days like today, I just feel like letting go. To sink back into the feeling of my first love, the one that never feels like any of the others, and remember.

If you ever wonder why I am the way I am, It’s all because of Chris.

And now you know.

#personal

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