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kyberphilosopher · 4 years ago

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Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man.

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off.

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men.

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot.

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried.

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one.

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point.

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day.

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man.

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn.

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering.

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard.

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above.

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you.

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible.

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman.

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath.

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do.

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks.

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?”

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something.

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that.

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’.

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch.

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans.

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even.

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut.

What’s wrong with you today?

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again.

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person.

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark.

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair.

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins.

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close.

“When?” you question.

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement.

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine.

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself.

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half.

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones.

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response.

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings.

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused.

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike.

A man, as usual.

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory.

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will.

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time.

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand.

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually.

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment.

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change.

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all.

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot.

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank.

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again.

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all.

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately.

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth.

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something.

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last.

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed.

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away.

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him.

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around.

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly.

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly.

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes.

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time.

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him.

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl.

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally.

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it.

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding.

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject.

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food.

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat.

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question.

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond.

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought.

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible.

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump.

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one.

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense.

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend.

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe.

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt.

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded.

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help.

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder.

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes.

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips.

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly.

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it.

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building.

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

That night, it rains.

Thunder echoes, with ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands.

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes.

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning.

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it.

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual.

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think. Please protect me. Please do this for me.

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android.

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are.

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you.

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now.

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in.

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good.

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor.

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself.

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes.

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea.

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators.

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him.

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy.

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does.

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying.

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead.

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second.

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

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ventisehe · 4 years ago

Text

crying on their wedding day / genshin impact / part one

this was a request from my old account and i am only transferring it here. there is a part two to this but i got busy with school and organizing my new account, as well as thinking over deleting my old account.

since bennett is fifteen or sixteen, his part will be a little different from the others. with aether, he is hundred years old so his part if just like the rest. this is unedited and i wrote it at night when i was supposed to be farming so please bear with me hehe.

requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro

includes: diluc, zhongli, childe/tartaglia, aether, bennett

warning: unedited, not proofread

part two

THOSE WHO WOULD SHED A SINGLE TEAR

DILUC

After losing his father and his horrible fall out with Kaeya, Diluc has become a firm believer that a man can truly live as an island, to some extent. As much as possible, he kept to himself and worked alone. Having people share his burdens with him did not appeal to him. In fact, it miffed him, as it made him feel indebted to them.

He limited his interaction with everyone, especially those who are part of the Knights of Favonius, favoring solitude above else. But of course, this did not entail bad social ethics to others.

He treated his maids and employees with civility and respect, the same can be said with his patrons whenever he worked behind the counter (it would certainly be bad for his business if he behaved aloof to them) and those he was once close friends with. He always behaved appropriately to them, although he must admit he can be quite insulting to the Knight, he always stood behind an invisible barrier, careful not to cross it and grow attached to anyone.

He has long given up with amorous relationships. After all, what good would he be as a lover if he could not provide his woman the love and care she deserved? Surely, he cannot let a maiden suffer with his inadequacy as a potential husband. He is aware of how hectic his schedule is (he hardly has enough time for himself so spending time with his lover would be proven difficult) and how poorly he expresses his feelings, thoughts, and emotions. In a relationship, in marriage, communication is the key for it to be successful, and already then, he has failed. He may be a cold man at first glance, but he will not put a woman in s distressing dilemma, not intentionally anyway.

Being the richest man in Mondstadt and being considered attractive by many, Diluc was not foreign to having women throw themselves at him, attempting to seduce him. If maintaining a relationship with a woman with his current tribulations was hard, finding a woman who truly love and understand him was even harder. He has no means of deciphering who were pure with their intentions and those who sought him for his money and influence.

And he accepted his fate without easily, without question. This was the way it was supposed to be in the first place. Diluc Ragnvindr - a lone man, who lived in too big mansion, sleeping on a bed too big for him. It was all he knew. The bright days of his childhood long forgotten.

But then you came to his life so suddenly.

"Master Diluc," Began Jean, a polite smile over her lips. "This is ( Your Name )".

All it took was for you to give him shy smile to have his walls broken down, and for his heart to yearn for what he has resolutely denied himself of for years. And it twisted him, and not in a way he welcomed.

Diluc tried so damn hard to push you away. He avoided your presence, and made it his point to show you he wanted nothing to do with you, and made no attempt to cover it and ignored how his heart broke every time your smile fell. He resolutely refused to yield to your sincere advances.

He treated you the same way be treated everyone, to show you how you were no different from everyone. You were just another dot in his life waiting to be erased and thrown in the back of his mind.

But the harder he pushed, the harder you pulled. In his brightest days and in his darkest days, you have never strayed far and welcomed him with open arms. You always went out of your way for him.

It was hard not to fall in love with you? Why did you have to make things so difficult?

It wasn't too long until he was falling asleep in his bed with you in his embrace, his heart feeling light, warm and content. He hasn't feel like this in a long time - safe, and at home. Diluc found home from someone he tried to push away.

The horror of what could have happened if he had been successful weighed down on him, and it took quite an assurance from you to make him remember that he has failed, and you were his, as he was yours.

Back then, he thought your persistence was bothersome. But as he stood at the altar right now, watching you enter with your white wedding dress, he was grateful you never gave up on him.

Diluc cannot describe how beautiful you looked as you graced everyone in the place with your presence.

Your eyes locked with him, and his heart soared in his chest. And when you smiled at him, an excited gleam in your eyes - he cannot help but smile back.

Time cannot be any slower, and the aisle cannot be any longer. And have you always walked this slow? Or were you just teasing him?

Diluc's breath hitched - Perhaps you knew how much he wanted to get this over with so he can have you all to himself in the comfort of his room.

And when he saw you smiling mischievously at him, he knew that he was right.

His words failed to describe how beautiful you looked. His words failed the joy he was feeling. May Barbatos have mercy on him

But the tear that escaped the corner of his eye explained everything.

"Oh, what is this?" His best man whispered beside him, a teasing tone lacing his voice. "Master Diluc is crying. Why, I never thought I'd see the day."

Diluc shot him a glare. "Do not make me regret making you my best man, Kaeya."

Kaeya laughed. "Ah, ah, ah," He chimed. "Your wife won't be pleased if we fight at your wedding day."

A warm and pleasant feeling coursed through him. His wife.

"She's not my wife yet." Said Diluc.

Kaeya looked at you as you walked down the aisle. "And in just a few minutes, I'll have two Ragnvindr to annoy." He patted his brother on the back, smiling a genuine smile for the first time. "Congratulations, Diluc."

ZHONGLI

Zhongli, or Rex Lapis for that time, has watched over Teyvat for thousands of years and has witnessed firsthand how kings and tyrants rose and fell, how kingdoms were born, how camaraderie are conducted, how romance makes a man foolish and blinded, how society flourished in the hands of mortals as Archons guarded them from their resting place, and throughout the tales of humans, his eyes has laid upon many beauties.

But you? Oh, even the most esteemed bard of all realms could never bring the satisfactory glory to your name and pulchritude.

How dearly Zhongli missed the unspeakable power, money and authority he had back before he revoked his own position as a deity, keeping a close eye over Liyue and his people. But if ever presented with the opportunity to return to his rightful place as part of the Seven, he shall graciously decline, casting his gaze away and simply returning to your side.

After all, what benefit would he gain from it when he already has his heart is content in the possession of a mere mortal, a mortal he loved and adored. He would dream of ever choosing his old power over you, and that can be affirmed when he asked for your hand as the two of you took an evening stroll outside Liyue.

He has fallen for you and he cannot rise again. A gentle and kind woman with an understanding and patience which knows no bounds. If not for his revelation that he has accomplished all his duties and has come to decide to resign from his reign, your existence may be another reason for him to take the form or a mortal and ask for your hand.

He can still recall that faithful day when he first met you at the harbor. He stood by a high balcony, overlooking Liyue Harbor with arms crossed. The sun beat down against Liyue grounds and his skin, but it also casted an ethereal glow on you as you exited one of the ships that stopoed at the docks. And may he boldly say the sun was outshined that day, and his heart has been taken.

Zhongli can only imagine how many men has chased after you, but failed to woo you.

Zhongli understood the concept of love. After all, Liyue and every living being that sought shelter in its walls were close to his heart, but never in his life has he felt the way he felt for you. It was the sort of phenomena he observed between lovers for centuries - unconditional love and care, a sanctuary in the arms of their beloved, an individual to trust and come home to whether the day has been kind or unkind.

What he thought were trivial matters and the means of mortals for survival he has tasted its sweet flavor, and it was by your hand did he receive it. And he was thankful that you have found him worthy of being with you, and soon, being one with him in the contract of marriage.

And thus came the faithful day, the very day he longed to come ever since you have accepted him as your husband to be, and the day you have dreamt of every night you laid with him.

Zhongli counted the months, weeks, days, and if he had the ability to, minutes until the day of your wedding. He has a calendar in his room and everyday, he enthusiastically crossed out every passing day, watching as his wedding with you grow closer.

And when it finally arrived, Zhongli followed a meticulous routine to prepare himself, using expensive oils and perfume to which the Fatui money has provided splendidly. After all, he wanted to look the best he can for you. You deserved only the best of things, and he shall not hold back on anything to please you.

Though Zhongli, most of the time, was a calm man even under the eye of tribulations, when he stood at the altar in front of his close friends and colleagues, he can't help but feel anxious.

Of course he has no doubt in your love for him. He holds on your every word of love and affection as true, and his love for you was as hard as stone. Rather, it was he who doubted himself and his capabilities.

He wondered if he would be able to take care of you, love you the way you should be, bring a smile to your lips, and a laugh out of your mouth. If he had been Rex Lapis still, he would have easily uphold his duties as your husband. After all, what can an Archon not do?

It would be Childe, his best man, who would console him. He would tell Zhongli he is more than capable to care for you. He has a stable job (not to mention his connection with the Fatui), he was eager to please you and give you about everything if he can, he has a kind heart, he was a man who can manage his time wisely and never choose his profession over you, and above all, he loved you. Not many men can afford the luxury of being this perfect, but Zhongli was no man, not originally at least.

He will be unconvinced of what Childe has said. This unease in him was hard to diminish. Not being enough for you will tear him apart. The thought of it just gnawed at him. Will he make you happy? Will you regret marrying him when you realized life married to him wasn't as you expected?

It was only when the doors opened, and his wide and anticipative eyes darted over to the other end of the place did every little doubt in his mind is erased.

You stood by the entrance wearing the white dress you have fought hard not to show him until this day.

That bright smile on your face, those eyes that shimmered at the sight of him, the faint red on your cheeks - Zhongli did not even notice how love stricken he looked, and nor did he notice a tear cascade from corner of eye.

It was only when Childe stifled a laugh and pointed it out did he feel the dampness at the side of his face.

He forgot how to breathe when you finally stood before him. Even a veil cannot conceal your beauty.

With twinkling eyes, you smiled at him - like he was the only person in the room.

"Are you crying?" You ask playfully.

Zhongli will let out a chuckle, and as he take your hands in his, he said, "In such a beautiful day like this with the loveliest lady in Teyvat before me, how can I not?"

Indeed it was a beautiful day, made better when your lips met his.

He can't stop a few more tears from slipping.

THOSE WHO WOULD BAWL THEIR EYES OUT

CHILDE/TARTAGLIA

Childe understood his duties as a Harbinger even if his playful and flirtatious facade may say otherwise. He kissed hands of women and paid them golden compliments until their mind went hazy with his feigned affection, but he was still a Fatui at the end of the day - a ruthless and greedy scoundrel who had too much Mora in his hands.

And it was because of his line of work that he decided never to commit himself. If he was to find himself infatuated with a woman and she reciprocated his feelings and desired to pursue a relationship with him, it would inevitably drag her to the dangers entailed to his position.

The last thing he wanted was someone to dear to him to be harmed, not to mention his lover could become his weakness, she could be taken by his enemies and be used against him, thus, making things more complicated and harder for him to fulfill his duties to the Tsaritsa.

To him, nothing is more important than seeing through his mission with the finest quality of work he can give.

So damn you for coming into his life and distracting him. Damn you for bringing another bright to his life. Damn you for taking care of his family when he was gone. Just - damn you for making him fall for you.

He hated this - the feeling of being weak, of being vulnerable, of laying his guard down. One touch from you and he's no better than the people he despised for being so frail and powerless.

How ever do you possess this prowess to make him so dependent on you, to relish in your voice when you sing to him as the two of you laid together in his bed, how he let his defenses crumble when you whisper his name, the tug of his heart when you he sees you getting along so well with his family.

Childe wanted you. He wanted you more than anything and anyone in Teyvat. He was going crazy thinking about you.

He refused to acknowledge his feelings at first, thinking perhaps he can use you to comfort him and his family in these troubling times. That's all you were supposed to be, a tool for him to make his family feel better whenever he goes off to accomplish his work as a Harbinger.

But he couldn't stomach the thought of using you like that. He didn't want you to treat like a toy. And it did not help that one day, when he was returning from a mission, you come rushing to him and blurting out your feelings and your worry for his safety.

You loved him. Did he hear you right? You love a Fatui, and a Harbinger, no less. Surely, you aren't that stupid to fall for him.

And yet he smiled a sincere smile at your confession, and he too followed your steps. That night, he was at his weakest. Just relishing in your arms and ridding all the responsibilities over his shoulders. He can forget all his faults for a moment, with you. A peace of mind and heart was found in you.

Childe watched as you played with his fingers, and then he spoke. “Aren’t you afraid?”

You hummed. “Afraid? Of what?”

Childe shook his head and held your hand which toyed with his digits. You looked up at him, puzzled.

“Of me.” Said Childe, pulling your hand and holding it close to his chest. He closed his eyes, almost terrified of what your answer can be. “Of what I can bring to your life. I’m a Harbinger, [ Your Name ]. Your life is at stake just being with me. Do you know what you’re in for for loving me?”

You gazed at him, and he can’t see anything in your eyes. He let out a small gasp when you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“I’m not afraid of you or anything this world can throw at me.” You confessed. “You’re going to protect me, Tartaglia. I know you will. I trust you. I love you.”

And fucking hell, did he protect you.

He tried to hide you from his fellow Harbingers, and especially to his enemies. Not because they will use you to get the upper hand against him, a leverage. No, he wanted to hide you, as long as he can anyway (because it won't be long until his secret is out, walls do have ears), to protect you. No one will lay a hand or even get a single strand of your hair. May the Archons have mercy on anyone who dares put you in the middle of the dangers of his job, because he surely won't.

Because of this, you and Childe decided to get married in secret, with no one else but Zhongli, the traveler, and their floating companion to be your witnesses in becoming one. The two of you knew well of the consequences your decision shall birth, but it's the one you're making. Nothing in this can stop Childe from making you his wife, and treating you as such.

Childe could not wait for the ceremony to begin. Even with such a small crowd - very small indeed - he did not hold back to make this day special for you. The finest of everything is what you deserved, and if he could give more, he would. But for now, all he can give you is himself, and he dearly wished he was enough.

The whole time, as he waited for you to emerge from the doors of the small cathedral the two of you chose to be wed in, he kept imagining how his life would be like with you.

Waking up beside you was the thing he looked forward to the most. When the sunrays peeked from closed curtains and cascaded down your slumbering form, a gentle and even breaths leaving your lips, a soft expression of rest - the thought of it filled his heart with warmth, a kind of warmth only you can evoke from him.

Waking up at your side on his bed always reminded him thst you were indeed there, and his. Soon, he'll be waking up beside you with a soft smile on his lips, a reminder that you were there, but now as his wife.

Childe never really considered him emotional. It was part of his discipline as a Harbinger never to let his emotions get the better of him. But when you stepped into the cathedral wearing the wedding dress you personally chose and had hidden from him for so long, a veil over your face but the soft smile still just as bright as the morning sun, it all came crashing down to him.

Childe wanted a lot of things in life. But what he wanted the most was to spend the rest of his life with you - providing for you, protecting you, comforting you, falling deeper in love with your every single day. All this he will do until his dying breath, and he knew you'd do the same.

His dream was walking towards him, never taking her eye off him as she approached the altar.

He can hear Paimon clapping and the Traveler reprimanding her for being a little too loud. He can hear Zhongli saying something to him but he couldn't understand a word he said. But he was too lost in his realization that you're going to marry him.

You chose him, a man with too many faults and imperfections.

Just as you arrived at the small steps leading towards the altar, the tears Childe has been trying to hold back streamed down his face, small hiccups escaping his lips.

You stared at him, worried. "Tartaglia, are you alright?"

Childe would try to formulate an answer but through his tears and hiccups, he couldn't make a single comprehensible word. His posture was regal and proper, as though he was trying to fool everyone that he wasn't crying.

How can you ask if he was alright? How can his heart handle how beautiful you looked right now?

"Excuse me, ( Your Name )," Zhongli interjected as he stepped beside Childe. "It seems that your soon to be husband needs a moment to collect himself. Please, excuse us."

Zhongli led Childe back to his room, and the Harbinger did not fight back. He was still crying even when the doors has closed behind him. Zhongli stood by the door, watching the Fatui sit on his bed, trying to stop himself from bawling.

Childe can feel guilt crawling up to him as he realized what he had done. What was supposed to the most perfect day, your most perfect day, was ruined because of him.

He was scared to think what you thought of him now. Were you resenting him for what happened? Did you still wish to marry him?

If only he had controlled his emotions much better. He shouldn't have let his joy break through him in tears.

"She was crying too, you know," Spoke Zhongli.

Childe raised his head to look at the former Archon. "Huh?"

"Your bride, she - " He smiled at him. " - she was crying too. She's happy to be marrying you."

Childe can feel his heart hammering against his chest in delight at what he said.

"So don't keep her waiting."

Childe bawled his eyes out once more when the words - "I do," - left your lips.

AETHER

When his sister was taken from him, Aether was a lost and wandering soul in Teyvat with the sole purpose of finding her.

Throughout his journey, he met different people from different regions. He learned their values and cultures, he grew to love the world he used to be a stranger to, he was able to utilize different sorts of Visions, and yet, despite all of this, Aether was lonely. Paimon - bless her pure soul - tried her best to keep his spirits and bring a smile to his face (he assumed she too felt the hollowness inside of him) but it was all futile as he often find himself seeking solitude and gazing out in an open field wondering where his twin could be and how she was fairing on her own.

He will let the cool breeze comfort him, but all it left was a searing kiss of reality that his search might have been all for naught. That very concept his mind was conjured haunted him in his every waking days. Is he still journeying through Teyvat and reaching out to all Archons with a solid purpose? Was he no wasting his time looking high and low for someone who could not be looking at the sky as he?

"And what if she is?"

Your words is what got his attention. Aether met you in the evening when the stars and the moon was absent from the skies. He sat on a fallen log overlooking the city of Mondstadt, alone and cold. Paimon has insisted in him accompanying him, but he had snuck away before she can chase after him. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, and with the scarce time he has for himself, he has to make the most of every night that comes.

Lumine was in his mind, and worry was gnashing its teeth at him. He was deep in his own world, sinking to the hands of his tragic thoughts, that he did not hear footsteps trekking the hillock he was at. Nor did he realize he was speaking his own worries in the air, eyes distant and staring blankly at nothing.

"What if she's not even looking for me?" That's what he remembered saying that time.

Then you made your presence known with an answer that refuted his initial thought. He whirled his head to the side, wide eyes with surprise. You stood next to him with a faint smile, hands behind your back and the moon slowly peeking from the shroud of clouds. A light in the darkness, the moon was. And so you were you to him.

"Sorry," You apologized, sheepishly giving him a smile as you rubbed the back of your neck. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You were speaking out loud and-and I just had a feeling I needed to say something." You took in a deep breath, and Aether found the pink dusting your cheeks adorable. "I . . . I'll just go now - "

Aether didn't regret asking you to stay.

Before you came to his life, Aether did not know how much he was dwelling in the own hell he made. His inner tribulations, his worries, his insecurities - he only took notice the torture he was putting on himself when you keep saving him from his own mind.

At first, all he thought of you was a precious friend - someone he leaned on and entrusted with everything, whether it be secrets or help with his quests. He told you about his past, his twin, how exactly he was different from the people of Teyvat, how he and sister fought an unknown god, how she slipped from his fingers when he reached out for her, how much he wanted her back. He was terrified of what you may think of him when he told you these things, but to his surprise, all you did was wrap him in your arms and comforted him.

Along with Paimon, you were his dearest friend.

But as time passed, the longer you accompany him and Paimon in his travels, he noticed something strange. The way his heart skipped a beat when you smile at him, how he can't keep his eyes off you when you laugh at one of his tales, how his heart hammered ceaselessly when you press a chaste kiss on his cheek, the relief that seeps in his system when he sees you unscathed from a battle, how irritated he becomes when someone makes an offense against you, the joy that seizes him when he listens to you talking about something you loved, and how much he adored it when you scold him for being a little too reckless in fighting.

Aether, despite being older than he seems, did not know what to make of what he was feeling. It was strange, a good kind of strange - the kind of feeling that makes him feel like he was floating in the sky. All he thought of it was an overwhelming adoration for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn't until Paimon pointed it out did he realize what he was feeling for you.

Upon learning his feelings for you, Aether couldn't sleep for many nights. He was plagued with the desires of his heart and his insecurities. It was like falling back to the same hellish pattern before you came along.

He was in this world for one reason only - to find his twin. And when he does - and he fucking will - he will depart from here with her and continue their travels. Leaving you was the last thing he wanted. He couldn't bear the thought of it. It felt like leaving a piece of him behind in Teyvat, a hole in the shape of your name.

The solution he had for this is directly confessing to you. Of course, the blond was a nervous wreck when he approached you and asked for a moment of your time. Paimon knew of his plan and wandered away for the time being, wanting to give the two of your privacy.

If you did not share the same feelings as he, he can already imagine the pain he will have to deal with, but it'll be much easier to leave. At least then he knows you won't be as hurt as he thought once he takes his leave. He never entertained the idea of you reciprocating his feelings. It would be foolish to - surely you can't find anything appealing with someone like him ; to which you rendered him speechless and a bumbling mess when you pressed your lips against his when he was in the middle of his confession.

Aether shouldn't be this happy with you. He loved you too much to see you hurt when he tells you that he must leave. He was not welcome in this world, he was an outsider, a being not under the authority or influence of any Archons.

But still, he spent months loving you, caring for you, doing anything to come back to you no matter what is thrown at him. He loved having you in his arms when you slept, he loved watching the stars with you at night, he loved you even with the inevitable arguments you two have - Aether was utterly and hopeless in love with you.

And thus, he decided to tell you what will happen after he finds his sister.

He knew he would be heart broken in seeing you cry, but it hurt more to see you smile at to him so genuinely and embraced him, saying, "You used to doubt you'll ever find your sister. It broke my heart everyday seeing you so hopeless, and I - " You composed yourself, shaking your head as your tried to gather your thoughts. " - now look at you," You cupped his cheek, the corners of your eyes wrinkling as your smile broadened. "I always knew the day will come when you have to leave me. When you told me you weren't from this world, I knew then I'll have to let go of you someday. But until that day comes - Aether - "

What a shock it came to him when you got down on one knee and presented to him a glittering ring - there was unconditional love and hope in your eyes. It was like looking back at his reflection. "Marry me, Aether, let me make you happy for the rest of the days we still have remaining until you leave."

Aether can never say no to you.

To his surprise, Master Diluc has already agreed to host your wedding at Dawn Winery. Aether was puzzled as to why he seemed unsurprised by the news of his engagement with you, and the Claymore wielding male answered, "( Your Name ) came to me for help when she planned to propose to you."

Aether knew Diluc, as much as possible, wanted to be alone. A lone wolf, he was. But with gratitude for what he has done, he asked him to be his best man. Diluc was startled by this requests but obliged. The red head might not show it but he was immensely flattered by Aether asking him to be his best now (and now time to subtly show it off to Kaeya).

At the day of the wedding, contrary to what he thought he would feel, Aether woke up with his an ache in his chest. He found himself looking out the window of his room, torn between his happiness and sorrow.

In a few hours, Aether will be able to adorn a ring on your finger, symbolizing your promises with one another. He shall be granted the sole blessing of calling your his wife. It was something he was looking forward to - seeing you in your wedding dress, watching as you walk down the aisle -

But Aether's mind kept drifting back to his sister - She would have wanted to be here. He thought.

Aether felt like he was committing a crime when he decided to take a walk just hours before his wedding. But he needed to clear his mind. Lumine never left his mind. He always thought that they would always be there for one another, or at least in big moments like this.

And yet she was still nowhere to be seen.

Is she still alive? Have I been wasting time? Is she still in danger? Is she lost in Teyvat as well?

"Didn't expect to run into you here."

His body tensed when he heard your voice, and he twirled around only to have his breath taken away.

You stood before him in the white dress he had longed to see ever since you proposed to him. He thought he would see a frown on your face, dismayed for his impromptu walk, but you wore a soft smile - a soft and understanding smile.

Aether did know what to say to you. He just stared at you, overwhelmed.

He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't say anything. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed.

You approached him and kissed his cheek. He hummed in delight, eyes closing. "I hope you're not having second thoughts on marrying me." You told him.

Aether was quick to respond. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes with affirming hues, "There is nothing I'm more sure of than marrying you."

You beamed at him. Seeing your face brighten up is always a beautiful sight for Aether, and it was enough for him to feel enlightened in the midst of his internal crisis.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Of course you can already tell something is bothering him. Aether shook his head. He has already ruined a small part of what is supposed to be a perfect day, he can't risk another mistake.

"I'm not going to push you to tell me anything." You stated.

Aether smiled. "Thank you." He replied. He gazed at you for a little while, taking you in. "Why are you out here anyway? And in your wedding dress too."

Your eyes widened and you looked down to assess his evaluation. "Oh Archons," You mewled. "I forgot I was wearing this." You let out a groan. "Great, now my surprise is ruined. I won't be able to see you cry when you see me walk down the aisle."

He laughed a little. "But still happy as ever to see you." He said. "So why are you outside?"

"Just . . . " You began, and Aether can detect a hint of nervousness in your voice. " . . . picking some flowers."

"I thought we already ordered flowers." Aether thought, frowning. "Did someone forget to deliver the flowers? I can call someone if - "

"No, I just wanted to pick some flowers, randomly. Like how you wanted to take a walk, randomly."

He looked at you with hesitant eyes. He didn't believe you. There was something hidden behind your motive to be out here. But like how you didn't press him with what was the problem, he did the same for you.

"Okay," He breathed out. "What flowers did you pick then?"

Aether's breath hitched when you pulled out a bundle of Windwheel Asters and several more flowers that was all too familiar with him.

He stared at the white flowers that combined with your Windwheel Asters, the very flowers that he remembered adorned his sister's hair.

"Aether? Aether are you okay?"

He stared at you with glistening eyes, his heart blossoming with adoration and gratitude. Without even meaning to, you managed to make everything alright.

"Yeah," He smiled at you. "I'm okay."

Aether thought when he stood at the altar, he would have Diluc trying to soothe his nerves as his insecurities slowly sink in his mind. But it didn't happen. Diluc merely stood by him with a relaxed expression, glancing at him every now and then.

"You don't look nervous at all." Diluc remarked.

Aether chuckled. "This is the only decision I fully know I won't regret."

Aether felt like it was his first time seeing you in your wedding dress. His heart was filled with the brim with utmost joy, but what caught his attention was the bouquet of flowers in your hands.

You told him before that you will have roses as your bouquet, but to his surprise, he can see the Windwheel Asters and the white flowers that reminded him of his sister.

His emotions was all over the place. He had no idea how he could look so calm. Somehow he managed to hold himself together until you finally stood before him.

When you stared at him behind the veil, he couldn't take it anymore. You were too perfect. How could he be so blessed with you?

Tears sprung to his eyes when you reached out to take his hands in yours. He retracted one of them to rub his arm across his eyes, wiping away the wetness that streamed to his face.

Why am I crying like a child in my wedding? Stop it!

He couldn't.

He only cried harder when you leaned forward, removed his arm from his eyes, made him look into your vibrant hues, to give a small peck on his lips - "You're okay, Aether."

BENNETT

Bennett understood his bad luck more than anyone. He had lived with and through it his entire life he graced the surface of the earth. It was almost pitiful to see the boy smiling ever so brightly as misfortune after misfortune comes hurtling his way, but to him? It was an everyday and normal occurrence, nothing he hasn't seen or experienced before. His spirits has never let their roaring flame vanish, however, and if it had not been for his bad luck, everyone would have been drawn to his warm, welcoming, affable, and cheerful soul.

But just because he was used to the constant array of debacle thrown his way, doesn't mean there were never days where he won't be upset over everything it brought to his life, and others as well, and wonder how long it will take until his unluckiness will lead him back to the very situation he was rescued from when he was a mere baby.

He forgot how long it was when he had experienced something good, miraculously so. The only time he can recall being so was when he encountered the Honorary Knight, convened with them as a temporary adventure team, and found a treasure chest containing items he has only dreamed of in his sleep deep within a domain. However, that was many moons ago, and nothing has ever compared to it ever since. The moment he departed from the Honorary Knight, his bad luck came instantly to bite him.

It was far too long ago. Sometimes, Bennett wondered if that would be the only good thing that can happen to him in his lifetime, and thank the Archons he was wrong because the very worst day that came upon him is a day he will never exchange for another - the day he met you. When it was raining, thunder in the distance, lightning striking trees and soil, his bruised and bleeding form hardly covered under a small and flimsy tent, you graced him with your presence, and an umbrella which you used to cover both of you.

He had never stopped admiring you ever since. His eyes always followed you, wide and shining. He remembered the warmth in his chest and the redness tinting his cheeks when you brought him to your abode and treated his wounds with care gentler than the Deaconess. When he told you what happened to him, he anticipated to he shoved out of the house immediately and have your front door slammed on his face, but you did not. When he warned you about his curse, telling you how you will be affected when you spend a little too much time with him, the look of fright did not cross your visage and you even insisted that he not leave your house until you were sure he was capable of moving without pain, even if you had instantly been affected by his unluckiness (you pricked your finger quite badly when you were stitching a deep wound of his. He always felt guilty for that and has not stopped offering his apologies whenever it pricks the corner of his mind).

Other than the team of adventurers who had saved him from peril when he was a baby, it was difficult to find someone who will stay with him, through bad times and more of it. One cannot simply imagine and comprehend the confusion and happiness that seized him when he found out you were spending more and more time with him, not out pity but because you enjoy his company (which was weird, but he'll take it).

You possessed no Vision, but Bennett never saw you in an inferior light. In fact, it impressed him how you can hold yourself without the aid of any power. Enemies took a little longer to eradicate but ultimately, you were always successful. He held you in high regard, and very much like a certain blond traveler, the poor boy thought it was merely friendship and respect he felt towards you. After all, wouldn't a friend accompany him in his adventures no matter what disappointing or gratifying the outcome is? Wouldn't a friend prepare meals for him before he goes off on a solo expedition? Wouldn't a friend stay up late up waiting for him to return after? Wouldn't a friend welcome him by the entrance of Mondstadt upon his arrival? Wouldn't a friend give him butterflies in his stomach? Wouldn't a friend make his heart pound in a way

It had taken the Traveler and his floating companion for Bennett to learn about how exactly he was feeling for you.

He liked you, and not in the way he liked the traveler or Razor - he liked liked you.

When he realized about his feelings, Bennett nearly short circuit every time you go near him. His face flush a rich color of vermillion, his confident posture stripped down to a coy and uncertain stance, his eyes darted and never meeting yours for too long, a sheepish smile painted over his brims - Bennett had never felt this way before. It was foreign to him - liking someone - and it was worse for him because you were his one of his few friends (you, Razor, the Traveler and their floating friend), and having you withdraw from him if you ever learned his feelings frightened him more than any Ruin Guard could.

He didn't bother entertaining the idea of you returning his feelings. With his bad luck, it was bound to end in a rejection, and he didn't believe he had the heart to accept the hurt that would come.

Bennett tried to keep his feeling a secret, he really, genuinely, did. He locked his feelings for you in a box and stowed away somewhere behind his mind. But it didn't take you too long to catch on. Bennett's theatrics wasn't as impenetrable as he originally thought because there was no other reason for you to corner him in a street in Mondstadt after he tried to avoid crossing paths with you, and admit your feelings to him.

"( Your Name )," Stuttered Bennett, eyes darting to the side to avoid your eyes as he pressed his back against the wall behind him. You gazed at him, a tint of red over your cheek.

Archon, how are you so adorable?

"Uh, hi," He greeted meekly, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I-I was just about to leave for an adventure - "

"Bennett," You spoke, and he froze at the tone of your voice.

He looked at you properly, gulping. Shy eyes, shy smile, shy, shy, shy - and yet somehow, Bennett thought the worse - that you found out about his feelings and was about to turn him down.

He almost got down on his knees and press his hands together in a praying position, head bowed, and beg to keep your friendship. It didn't matter if you did not share his feelings. You were more important than his stupid feelings. He can deal with the hurt of rejection that will soon to come, but losing you completely? Can he even come to terms with that?

But before he can do such humiliating display, you leaned in and pressed a kiss on his cheek,

It was almost too good to be true, and with someone like him, Bennett had to take a moment to comprehend what has happened. His feelings were reciprocated, opposite of what should have been considering his dilemma. How can this be? He was sure your friendship would be put to an end when you learn about what he felt for you. How did you even know that he liked you? Has he been too obvious? Surely not (he was). Perhaps you were merely toying with him, discovering his feelings and choosing to use it as a way to alleviate your boredom -

Horror struck him when he processed the message behind his doubt. How could he think so little of you? Someone as sweet and kind as you would be repulsed by the intention of the actions he thought you were presenting to him. Prideful as this may sound, Bennett believed he knew you enough to know you were sincere in everything you do.

But even if both your feelings are revealed to be mutual, the two of you agreed to wait until a certain age before forming a romantic relationship. The two of you are young and there are a lot more the world can offer outside Mondstadt. There are countless of opportunities to grow and be mature, to be able to have a set of qualities to take of one another.

But that didn't mean the two of you easily managed to hold back showcasing your favor for the other. Bennett will always find himself exchanging secret glances and smile with you whenever a third party joins in on your adventure. He would stick by your side in situations he think could potentially lead you to a major injury. He will attempt (and fail, unfortunately) to whip you up with something delicious when he has free time. And you did the same to him.

With you, there was never a time where his heart wasn't beating against his chest. He can't stop himself from bounding recklessly through his adventures whenever you accompany him, although he will still keep a close eye on you just in case something bad happens to you (but it's always him who ends up injured).

But what he liked the most are the kisses the two of you share. Short, chaste, and shy - whether it be behind closed doors, when others are looking away, or when the two of you set of on an adventure.

Bennett would lay in his bed with a smile on his face, his thundering heart preventing him from sleeping. He'll often find himself burying his face against his pillow, grinning from ear to ear.

This smile was different. This wasn't smile that he usually wore, the kind of smile that persevered through hardship after another. No, it was the sort of smile that was too carefree and too full of utmost joy, no worries or doubts in his heart. Everyday he always woke up to the excitement of adventure, but now, the excitement of it and seeing you once again always had him brimming with the want for the night to be over with so he can chase after his dreams with you. Chasing his dreams with you, what a life.

His world is full of a bad luck, but he thanked the Archons for giving him someone he can depend on in the troubling waters he always he seem to drown in.

Bennett, embarrassing it may sound, often laid on his bed imagining about marrying you.

He can see himself making a fool out of himself when he gets down on one knee and propose to you. It'll be set in the most beautiful place he discovered in one of his adventure, somewhere quiet. Like maybe on top of a mountain overseeing a vast field.

Because of his bad luck, he'll try to prepare for every outcome. To be very sure everything will be saved, he made sure he created a plan B for his plan A, a plan C for his plan B, and so on, and so forth.

He can imagine himself fumbling over his words, blushing a bright red was made prominent because of his white hair, holding a bunch of hand picked flowers a little too tightly, sweat pouring from his face, his suit and hair a little ruffled -

If you say yes (spoiler alert, you will), he will most probably go haywire with shock and happiness, causing him to drop the ring down the mountain, and the two of you will spend quite some time looking for it. But in the end, you two will find it somewhere deep underground or deep underwater (to which you will ask help to retrieve) (Bennett offered to go down to get the ring but you can’t take any chances) and then you can start planning the wedding.

If Bennett had backup plans for his proposal, then expect there'll be much more backups with your wedding. He needed this day to be perfect for you, and his bad luck won't stop him from providing it for you. Even if he had to fight through horde after horde of Hilichurls (please stop him when he does, he definitely will do that for you), making you happy is his top priority.

Bennett will be extremely anxious the day before the wedding. He'll be pacing around his room, and has half a mind of running over to your place and spending the night there to reassure himself that you still want to marry him, and that you’re absolutely sure you want to spend the rest of your life with him. It will be Razor - who the Traveler spent hours teaching the basic information of the role of Best Man to - who will calm his nerves. He’ll stop Bennett from reaching your house and carry him back to his own, and giving him a lecture (he did his best) like the best man he was.

Was he having second thoughts on marrying you? No way! He will just be nervous about how the wedding will go. With his bad luck, something horrible is bound to happen.

At the day of the wedding, Bennett can imagine himself constantly seeking reassurance from his best man.

"What if I mess up?" Questions Bennett to Razor, anxious hands fiddling with his tie.

"Messing up is . . . normal." Razor will reassure him, but Bennett will shake his head.

“But it's me. When I mess up, it's always . . . catastrophic . . . ”

Bennett hoped that at least for his wedding way, everything will go smoothly. A perfect day, for you and for him. He won't embarrass you or himself. He won't forget the rings, he won't have his clothes tucked inside out, he will not spill any food or drinks on himself or on his guests, there will be no random Hilichurl attacks - none of that.

He really hoped for the Archons to spare him from his bad luck.

He will be able to stand by the altar with confidence and a smile, waiting for you to walk down the aisle.

As Bennett is consumed with his thoughts, his eyes drew to the small table at the side of his bed and caught sight of the picture of the two of you perched on the surface. It was a picture you took with a kamera after one of his adventures. The two of you smiling happily as he showcased the loot of vegetables and wheat he gathered in numerous luxurious chests. It was good day, that picture was. He found more resources than usual. Of course, he learned from the Traveler that most of the chest they found contained treasures but hey, vegetables are better than nothing, right?

Bennett stared at your smiling face and can feel the heat creep on his cheeks as he imagined you in a pretty, white wedding dress, smiling at him so shyly and cute - oh, Archons, help him. May them have mercy on him. Of course, you always looked pretty to him - so, so pretty - but in your wedding day? Archons, he doesn't know if he can take that. It'll be too much for his big heart.

He can only imagine how your wedding will play out, but there is one thing he was sure of and that is that he will burst into tears once he laid his eyes upon you - and not the soft cry most men do in their wedding, oh, not at all like that. His heart is too big with too much love for you, and too soft to control his emotions properly.

Bennett will cry (bawl, actually), his tears of joy coming in streams, and it was loud enough for strangers to think he was grieving over a deceased loved one. He was hiccupping and sobbing, will probably be holding on to his vest tightly as if his entire lifeline depended on the pressure of how he crumpled the fabric. He hoped that in that time, Razor or the Traveler will lend him a hand and calm him down before he can ruin his own wedding.

Bennett, as he happily imagined that fateful day to come in the future (spoilers again, it will) did not feel a tear slip from the corner of his eye as he drifted off to a pleasant slumber with a beaming smile.

The boy absolutely adores you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #aether x reader #bennett x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader

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rumblelibrary · 3 years ago

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hello!! i saw requests are open and i was wondering how zemo would react to seeing their nonbinary/fem presenting partner in a suit for the first time! i get kind of insecure about if people will find me attractive when im masc rather than fem, so it’d mean a lot! also maybe there can be a suitkovia reference somewhere LOL

Perfectly Suited [Baron Helmut Zemo x Nonbinary/Fem presenting!Reader]

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: get ready to be loved and spoiled by our best sugar daddy

Author’s note: I hope I managed to get through your wishes, thank you for allowing me to do so

Baron Helmut Zemo was many things, but there were two particular things he liked to regard himself: a man with an exquisite taste and the deepest adoration to his partner.

He was one of those men from another time, he loved, he loved completely, devotedly, without limits.

He loved you with a passion that nobody could deny, it was vibrant, electric, he didn’t need to show pda, just to see you two together proved his care.

He would give all the best to you and only the best, and that’s how you would only eat in the best places, find yourself sleeping only in the silkiest sheets and go to a tailor for any piece of clothing you needed.

Too much? Always not enough in Zemo’s eyes.

He was old fashioned on this: a piece of clothing had to fit like a glove, to suit your habits and not the habits of the mass market, and you better not start him on that topic because he could go on for ages about how the quality of clothing just mirrors the quality of society.

Nevertheless, you’d benefit of all the best tailors of the world, anything you desired, you’d just have to book an appointment with Zemo’s name and you’d be settled.

On that particular evening you asked him to be present for your final fitting, you didn’t tell him what it was but he guessed it must have been something special because it took time.

As you walked into the shop he smiled at you leaning his hand on the lower of your back.

“Show me darling, I can’t wait” he said as he took off his coat moving to a private room reserved for the fittings.

Mirrors and flowers everywhere, the place smelled heavenly and you grew to love it with time.

“Today is the day” the old tailor told you with a big smile, he grew excited with you, he wasn’t a young man and didn’t understand a thing about the whole concepts of ‘modern sexuality’, but he knew clothing, he knew how what you wear can bring you the highest or the lowest.

He hanged your little surprise and left you to change.

You nodded at him as the excitement was taking over you, but also the worry.

What if he doesn’t like it? What if he refuses that side of you? Yes, all good but this is too far? He paid big money for it, what if it is not right to his eyes?

What if he has no reaction at all? Is that good or bad?

You undressed quietly and slipped into your new suit, you smiled instinctively as just wearing it made you feel confident and alive.

You looked up at yourself in the mirror as you laced up the shirt buttons and you indeed liked yourself, you wanted to wear it always, everyday.

You put on the jacket and buttoned it up, a little move from side to side to take in every angle before calling the tailor in.

“I am so good at my job” he chuckled as he adjusted a bit the position of the shoulders and instructed you about how the sleeve of the shirt has to show in a certain way outside of a jacket.

“That’s how you understand if a jacket is perfect for your arms” he explained and he was always covering you in little trivia.

He knew you were nervous, so he tried to distract you.

“Ring the bell when you want me to come” he said as from your changing room you’d get to where Zemo was sitting, chilling on the big sofa, legs spread comfortably as he sipped his glass of ‘welcome champagne’ while going through some catalogues stocked in there.

When the door opened he closed The catalogue looking up at you.

He blinked for a moment as you squirmed under his watch

“Can you do a turn for me?”

He asked moving his finger and you did as asked, a vague sense of nausea and fear taking over you.

He stared at you, the moment you gave him your back the most nerve-racking. When you gained back your starting position he gulped down in one shot the drink he had and left the empty glass aside unceremoniously before standing up.

In your mind, you were already consoling yourself over the fact that it was another time when you will just have to accept things.

“Y/N”

You looked up at him as he called your name.

“You’re so handsome” he said, his eyes shining, a Cheshire Cat kind of smile taking over his lips as he kissed you enjoying the privacy of the moment.

“Y-You do?”

You asked surprised pulling back from that kiss, still doubtful, you got so ready to hear a rejection that you didn’t allow yourself to foresee the amazing smile he was gifting you now. He touched on your sides and up onto your shoulders, the dark fabric slipping through his fingers as he observed you closely before meeting your eyes again.

“Darling” he scolded you gently with that nickname “you even doubted I would love to see you suited up for me?” He asked and you looked down, his hand slowly moving under your chin to make you look up again

“Never look down” he said, his hazel eyes burning holes into you “Remember always: you are the one that makes the rules, you can do everything you want, dress as you want, don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t wear something or do something. If that makes you happy, if that makes you be you, then it is perfect”

You felt emotional as his smile triggered you to smile back, your eyes tearing up a bit.

“Hey, listen to me, I might be right for once, you’re talking to a man with a collection of fur collared coats who doesn’t care at all”

You chuckled, because it is true, you even have got one just for his own pleasure.

“All good?”

You smiled looking at him and you nodded, his arms making you feel safe and secure, that mixed with the power suit you were wearing you felt even bold.

He did a very secure nod before leaning in to ring the bell on the side

“We have only one problem now” he said and you looked at him puzzled.

What is wrong now? You looked down at yourself instinctively.

The tailor came inside smiling warmly, happy to see you two in a cuddly moment

“How you find my job, Sir?”

“Impeccable, as always” Zemo said “but this is an evening suit”

Zemo moved on your side touching onto your jacket, the closeness of him, his warm attentions being a gift for you.

“We need at least two day suits, one in linen for the summer and one for the winter, something thick like Harry’s Tweed” he explained as the man took note “and of course something else for special evenings” he added looking at you.

“Please, I’ll show you the fabrics”

The tailor said to you motioning you to follow him to his table so he could show you all the books with the textiles.

“Perfect, we don’t have much time, so pick wisely, I’ll schedule another appointment soon”

Zemo said checking his watch and you looked at him, once more, very surprised because you had no following appointment.

He smirked leaning to your ear “You don’t expect me to watch you in a suit and not bring you out for dinner” You smiled at him.

“Helmut…” you murmured but many words couldn’t just allow you to express ho much it meant to be accepted, to be even liked in the way he does “Thank you”

He smiled “I love you” he said, as simple as it is “now go pick your fabrics or I won’t be able to wait for the dinner to be over to reach the second idea that suit gave me”

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone

Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

#baron zemo #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo x you #baron zemo x y/n #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo imagine #baron zemo x reader #zemo headcanons #helmut zemo headcanon

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silverflame2724 · 3 years ago

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Happy Prompt (if you feel like it): WWX being the genius/ex first disciple of great scet that he is realizes they can't sustain the Burial Mounds. So he comes up with a Plan to make them all dissappear. Knowing how important lineage is so them, he asks them to give up the Wen name and take up Wei. (The wens are mostly common folk who just want to live so they agree). He the proceeds to hide them among other clans. People who have met and remember all the good young master Wie always did. He hides them among the Jiang and Nie. (I always head cannon that part of WWX'S flirty reputation comes from him helping women who are in bad situations/ NHS somehow finds out/knows and begins to help him. I figure theyhad to get several Lan women out. Mama Lans ghost helps?). JC knows but ignores it, they aren't WENS anymore, so his pride can leave it be. I'm not sure if A'yuan would still end up with Lan Zhan? But then WWX, WN, and WQ all fake thier deaths and go travel as rogue cultivators. But now WWX has all these living and dead people praying to/for him as the patron Saint of lost causes? And he accidentally becomes an immortal without realizing it? To the absolute fond disgust of WQ, of course. Anyway, I figure old Jin perv still pulls his bullshit at a discussion conference and between NHS, JYL, and LWJ? They somehow clear everyone's nsme. And then newly immortal WWX rocks up in there (to the horror of the Lan Elders who now have to face thier own bullshit/ hypocrisy) and lives happily ever after.

I think I read a prompt or a fic somewhere with the concept of the Wens hiding in plain sight.

________________________

The thought came to him out of nowhere.

It had been a peaceful day with the Wens as he farmed, invented and tinkered with various incomplete contraptions when Wei Wuxian was struck with a thought: they could not continue like this.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t an idiot. He knew that they couldn’t sustain themselves in the Burial Mounds. Their crops hardly prospered, one by one the more elderly individuals of the Wens got sick and died, the resentful energy messed with everyone’s temperament, the cultivators never stopped trying to break his wards.....the list went on and on.

He had to come up with a plan. He thought they could live here for a time, but that was just wishful thinking.

With this in mind, he takes the next few days to come up with a concrete plan.

...............................

The first task, and perhaps the most important one, is to ask the Wens to give up the Wen name. It would be easier from then on.

As he presented this suggestion, he was surprised by how readily they agreed. He knew how important lineage was to them, so the rapidness of them giving up their name was shocking.

“Would you......take up my name?” Wei Wuxian asked quietly.

The Wens were silent before cheering. Wei Wuxian didn’t know how to react to this. The Wens told him that they were more than happy to accept his name since they were his family.

Wei Wuxian held back the tears and laughed happily instead as he went on to tell him the next plan of action: hiding them in plan sight.

Various people from various clans owed him favors and remembered the good in him, as they were more than happy to take on the refugees he hid away now that they were no longer Wens.

They had to do this quietly and slowly though. It would be suspicious if a large group of people suddenly left Yiling all at once. So Wei Wuxian took each of them to different places. Some of them went back to their original homes, some went to the Nie, some to the Yao, some to the Ouyang clan.

He even sends some to the small village of women who he helped run away from their horrible home situations.

It was a little tricky with Nie, but Nie Huaisang pulls through and Nie Mingjue suspects nothing.

He sends some to the Jiang and Jiang Cheng grudgingly accepts them, knowing that they are no longer Wen.

And for A’ Yuan.......He sends A’ Yuan to Lan Zhan, who is familiar with A’ Yuan. Wei Wuxian sends a letter to Lan Zhan asking him to meet and instead of appearing, A’ Yuan is there in his stead. The letter to Lan Zhan details what to do with A’ Yuan and to hide his identity.

Wei Wuxian trusts that Lan Zhan would take his suggestion and tell his brother and uncle that A’ Yuan was a child that Lan Zhan was asked to take care of by a dying mother.

Wei Wuxian watches from afar as Lan Zhan takes A’ Yuan away and takes the last step in ensuring that the cultivation world forgets him: He fakes his, Wen Qing’s and Wen Ning’s deaths. There’s enough corpses in the Burial Mounds and ones with their physique to replace the Wens and him. He gossips to the town that he’s going to destroy his weapon, the Seal, and subsequently fakes an explosion of resentment, quickly disappearing with the Wen siblings to a random direction.

He always thought how nice it would be to be like his parents and be rogue cultivators. He guesses that he’ll find out now.

..................................

Years pass and Wei Wuxian makes decent salary by taking care of monsters in the area. Wen Qing is a doctor, of course, and Wen Ning becomes her assistant.

They move to a little village near Dongying and settle down there. The people there a little more open to demonic cultivation and dark arts and don’t bat an eye at Wei Wuxian using such means.

Wei Wuxian invents more contraptions, selling them under a false name in towns far away from Dongying.

One day, on a chance night hunt near Yunmeng, Wei Wuxian hears whispers and gossip about Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli clearing his name and capturing the actual people responsible.

He’s happy to hear this. Overjoyed. But that doesn’t mean he’ll gladly return to the cultivation world. He’s had enough of that life.

He walks around town for a bit longer, catching bits of gossip here and there. As explores the town, wine jug in hand, he nearly chokes around a mouthful of wine as he sees a small shrine encasing a statue of his likeness. What.....the hell??

He quickly asks around and finds out that people are praying to him for protection. Wei Wuxian squirms a little at this, glad he’s wearing a weimao to cover his face.

All of this...praying makes him uncomfortable. Not long ago, people were spitting on his name and now he’s suddenly become some sort of Patron for protection? The change is remarkable and cements Wei Wuxian’s decision to firmly stay out of the cultivation world.

People’s opinions change like a tide and Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to stick around long enough for them to switch back. He sighs, disposing of his empty jug, and leaves the town.

.......

Surprisingly, that’s not the end of the changes.

He got careless on a night hunt and ends up with the claw of a yaoguai piercing him all the way through his stomach. When the yaoguai pulled out its claw, though......Wei Wuxian healed quickly. Too quickly.

He recovers from the shock at this and finishes off the yao.

What just happened?

A quick trip to Wen Qing answered everything.

“Congratulations.” Wen Qing says dryly. “You’re an immortal.”

“........What.”

Wen Qing sighs, “From what you told me, you healed unnaturally quickly, right?”

Wei Wuxian nods.

“There have only been records of immortals recovering that quickly. Even Wen Ruohan healed slower than you did.”

“But I don’t have a core???”

“You do. Sort of.” Wen Qing replies. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t you felt it.”

“.....” I mean, I did think it was odd that I didn’t freeze to death in the winter or die of hunger when money became tight over these years, but I thought those were side effects of demonic cultivation! Wei Wuxian quickly goes through the motions of feeling for his core, willing the surge of hope he felt down.

And he......didn’t feel a core. He felt more of a large mass of energy congregated in his dantian.

Wei Wuxian is glad that he is sitting down right now because he feels very faint. “But.....this......how?”

“Hmm. Well, from what I’ve been hearing, you’ve become some sort of Patron Saint?” Wei Wuxian nods. “It’s rare, but cultivators can gain power from prayers. Take Wen Ruohan for example.”

“He became powerful through the same means?”

“Yes. Well, his people believed him to be all powerful, not so much as what people are praying to you. As the Sunshot alliance chipped down on his people, so too did they chip down on Wen Ruohan’s power.”

“So if people stop praying to me, I’ll stop being immortal.”

“Yes and no. Right now, there’s just a mass of energy concentrated there. It’s basically unrefined energy. All you have to do is refine that power into a core and cultivate normally. Otherwise, yes. You will lose this power as soon as people stop praying to you.”

“I see.......”

Wen Qing raises an eyebrow and brandishes her needles. “What are you doing just sitting here? Go and cultivate!”

“Aiya, Qing-jie! I’m in shock here, give me a moment to absorb this all!”

“I have patients to see! Get your ass to your room and cultivate!”

“Are you my mom or something?”

Wen Qing’s expression turns thunderous.

Wei Wuxian didn’t want to provoke her any further despite wanting to banter more and left to his room.

..................................

“You should visit your siblings.” Wen Qing says one day. “And Hanguang-Jun. I want to hear about how A’ Yuan is doing.”

“Where did this come from?”

“Wei Wuxian.” Wen Qing says patiently. “It’s been over a decade. Your name and our name has long since been cleared. People no longer hate you. And.....they miss you. Your siblings have commemorated the day you “died” and go into mourning for that day. Hanguang-Jun is a little subtler but he wears a mourning sash now.”

“They’ll be better off without me.”

“Says who?”

“The rest of the world.” Wei Wuxian says weakly.

“And why should you care for their opinion? You never seemed to mind it.”

“Ummm.....Lan Zhan hates me? Jiang Cheng might resent me? And Shij---Jiang-guniang---the Young Madam Jin has a life already.”

“First, if Hanguang-Jun hates you, why would he frequently glare at people who badmouthed you?”

“Because he’s a good person. How do you know this anyway?”

“I have friends. Try again. Hanguang-Jun is a famously reticent person. Would he do this for every person?”

“.........I don’t know.”

“The answer is no.”

Wei Wuxian pouts.

Wen Qing then begins to tell him how Jiang Cheng frequently takes demonic cultivators back with him in hopes that one of them would be Wei Wuxian and even added Wei Wuxian back to the Jiang sect register. Jiang Yanli smiles while ruthlessly talking people into apologizing every time she hears something bad said about Wei Wuxian.

She even lectures him on his feelings towards Lan Wangji, that he would entrust A’ Yuan to him.

Wen Qing closes off her speech with threats of her needles if Wei Wuxian doesn’t get his ass over there.

“There’s a Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian, wait till they’re done and go meet them.”

Wei Wuxian, sufficiently threatened, hightails it back to what was his home.

.......

Wei Wuxian also decidedly forgets that he was supposed to wait for the Conference to end. Well, he had assumed that they would be done considering the empty state of the area in front of the conference room and stupidly bursts through the door to a room full of people.

Wei Wuxian blinks, “Uhh......”

“Wei Wuxian?!”

“Wei Ying?!”

“A’ Xian?!”

Wei Wuxian tittered from side to side, “Hello, all! I bet you thought I was dead! Well, you guessed wrong! Hahaha......”

..............................

Lan Wangji did not know what this time’s discussion conference would be like. He expected Jin Guangshan to try and subtly slander Wei Ying. He expected Jiang Yanli, Jiang Wanyin and himself to stand up for Wei Ying, as he was unable to do before Wei Ying died.

But he certainly didn’t expect Wei Ying, who he thought was dead, burst into the room.

Everyone was silent as soon as they heard Wei Ying speak, but soon burst into a cacophony of noise.

Continuing the Discussion Conference was futile after that and it was quickly closed. Lan Wangji watched Wei Ying be surrounded by many people, some crying, some happily angry, some exasperated and he couldn’t help his reaction after seeing him once again.

He rushes forward and hugs him.

“Wha--Lan Zhan?”

“You’re alive.” Lan Wangji breathes, voice full of wonder. “You’re alive.”

Wei Ying’s arms come up around him and Lan Wangji feels the strong heart beat through their robes. His elders yell at him for his shamelessness and he comes back to himself, embarrassed at his lack of control.

“Aww, Lan Zhan! I’m so glad you missed me!”

“Mn. Missed Wei Ying a lot.”

A slight blush rose to Wei Ying’s cheeks and he laughed, a little shy. Lan Wangji couldn’t help his response to hearing his laugh again after so, so long. He kissed him.

The crowd gasped around them and Lan Wangji pulled back quickly, wanting the ground to swallow him up. But then......Wei Ying kissed him back.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan. How bold of you! To steal a kiss from me in public!” He giggles, not seeming mad at all and even pressing forward, tangling his fingers in his forehead ribbon.

Lan Wangji’s breath stutters at the gesture.

“You’d better take responsibility!”

Is Wei Ying asking what I think he’s asking? “Responsibility?”

“Yes! You took a kiss from me in public! It looks like I can’t marry anymore.”

“Will marry Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji replies, voice hoarse, ignoring the cries of outrage from his elders, the angry shouts from Jiang Wanyin, and the smirks from Jiang Yanli and his brother. “Will take responsibility.”

“I hope that isn’t the only reason.”

This is his chance to come clean. Lan Wangji already told himself that he wouldn’t hold himself back if he met Wei Ying again. “Like Wei Ying. Love Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying laughs brightly. “I like Lan Zhan too. Now, you’ll finally admit we’re close?”

Lan Wangji ignores everyone, eyes only on Wei Ying as they should have always been, “Mn. Let’s get married.”

___________________________

I feel like Lan Wangji may be a bit OOC......hmm. Well, whatever. I finally got this done and with that, I think I’ve cleared all the prompts I haven’t answered, so asks will open up again!

Hope you all enjoyed this!

#wei ying #wei wuxian #wen qing #wen ning #wen qionglin #lan zhan #lan wangji #wen remnants #lan yuan #canon divergent au #wei wuxian hides the wen remnants #immortal wei wuxian #fluff #confessions #JYL and NHS and LWJ clear WWX and the Wen remnants' names #this is only happy #I hope

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meimae · 4 years ago

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Language Learning Through Immersion: One Year Japanese Update

11/03/2021

I did it, you guys! I’ve successfully reached my very first year of Japanese language immersion! I honestly thought that I would have given up by now, but this really has been a fun and ultimately rewarding endeavor.

Studying the language has been at the back of my mind for years since elementary school, I just never really knew how to go about it before, and I always thought that I could learn it in a classroom setting someday. That someday for me was in two elective courses in university, and while those were fun as well, it did not give me the same gains that I have achieved in this past year.

It’s probably easier to quantify learning a language in a classroom setting, especially when going through a program to earn a language degree. Learning through immersion, however, I had to really consider what my goals should be on my own. Eventually, I stumbled upon an article saying that for an English speaker, Japanese was exceptionally difficult to learn and that at least 2,200 hours must be spent with the language to reach a certain level of proficiency. So I said to myself, “well okay internet, if you say so!”, and set that as my long term goal going forward.

Spoiler Alert: I did not hit that goal in my first year. I am not crazy and will never listen to Japanese in my sleep regardless of what Khatzumoto (the creator of All Japanese All the Time) says.

I did, however, hit a total 1,226.65 active immersion hours in my first year, so I guess I’m still a bit nuts. That is 874.96 hours of active listening and 351.69 reading hours. I also did 270.59 hours of passive listening, also known as the time in the very beginning of my immersion where I was using Japanese subtitles (therefore not really concentrating on listening alone). That’s a cumulative 1,497.24 hours spent with Japanese. That’s more than halfway towards my goal!

To further break that down for curious animanga fans out there, that’s 973 episodes from 109 anime, 765 episodes from 33 dramas, 7 movies, and 967 chapters from 107 volumes of manga (21 series). Here’s my anilist and mydramalist to see what I’ve read/watched.

During all this, I was also doing my daily Anki reps and now I have a 530 day SRS streak (includes the time prior starting immersion and only doing RTK and some vocabulary cards) and a total 8,857 sentence cards. I’ve been averaging 406 cards daily (because I’m trying to cure my leeches) and I spend about an hour per day doing reps and learning new cards. I don’t really track my time on Anki, but I do have a set timer that goes off after 1-1:30 hours.

What I haven’t touched upon at all is output. I have not gone out of my way to find a tutor or a language partner. There’s still plenty of input out there to immerse in before I even consider outputting.

Graphs, stats, and more thoughts:

Here's my current card count in my main deck (minus the cards in my new/learning queue and leeches I've been relearning which are in separate decks):

That one day in 2019 where I did not do my cards because I was seriously doubting whether I can actually stick with language learning this time around will forever haunt and inspire me to keep going everyday.

Workflow and Tips

You might be wondering, how do I have a lot of time? I started this whole endeavor in the middle of a pandemic, which eliminated the option of me going to a language school, and a slew of other things I were considering doing last year became impossible (and if anything, very scary to do in a pandemic). All I can say is that, things work out eventually if it is His will, and if I can learn a skill before everything properly settles back down again, then why not?

I wake up at 5 in the morning everyday to either do my Anki reps or read until the time when I need to get up and I listen to compressed audio throughout the day. The biggest tip is to switch the time you spend watching/reading in your native language to your target language instead. Listen to a podcast during your commute, watch an episode during lunch break, read before going to bed, do your Anki reps in the bathroom if you have to.

But, if you’re feeling burnt out, there is no reason for you to not take a break! I have been watching a lot of Among Us streams before bed, and I chat with my friends from time to time. Language learning is not a race.

More Stats

Here are a couple of grids of the kanji characters that I have encountered at least once in my immersion and how well I have answered them in my vocabulary/sentence cards.

It's interesting that after almost 9000 words, I have yet to encounter every single character from the Remembering the Kanji 1 (RTK 1) book by James Heisig, which teaches you the most common use characters that are part of the 常用漢字. Which brings me to the question, was writing down every single character being taught in RTK worth it every time it came up in my reviews for the first 3-ish months I was reviewing them? Maybe, maybe not. It certainly removed my anxiety whenever looking at blocks of text in Japanese, but the longer I think about it, the more I feel I should have switched to Recognition RTK earlier. Still, being able to write in proper stroke order is cool I guess, and it also helps me when looking things up in the dictionary.

Here’s the same grid but in JLPT order:

I clearly need to grind those N2 and N1 level cards! Speaking of which, I have apparently almost covered every single character that could possibly appear in the JLPT (except for the N1 which I have only covered half of) in just a year's time. If the JLPT word frequency lists I’m using are accurate, I have about 2,000 words more to go to to cover most vocabulary that could appear in the test. This makes the "10,000 sentences/words to fluency" argument a reasonable milestone to aim for for Japanese learners if said aim is only to pass the test. That said, 10,000 words is just that, a milestone. It's more akin to a comfortable level of comprehension, but not my own concept of fluency which is being able to read with ease, speak articulately, and write comfortably.

READING IMMERSION GRAPHS

My biggest motivation for tracking my stats is for the purpose of seeing whether my reading speed is improving over time. Reading speed is also easier to measure than listening comprehension which is kind of subjective, so I had a lot of fun making these. What I found is that for the first volume or chapter of whatever it is I’m reading, I always take the time to get used to the writing style of the author. My speed really improves whenever I keep reading the same topic over and over again. On the other hand and quite obviously, looking up many new words in a row and trying to parse sentences slows me down.

Manga: Reading Speed Progression per Volume

I clearly love ちはやふる and I am not ashamed to admit it.

I need to start reading longer manga. When I do, I’ll probably split this graph into less than and greater than 20 volumes. Imagine if I start reading something ridiculously long as 名探偵コナン or ワンピース, these graphs will start breaching the bounds of time and space.

Novels: Time Spent Reading per Chapter

#neverforget the time I read chapter six of Norwegian Wood for 9 hours when it took me less than half that time in English RIP. Also, my interest in Kitchen plummeted LOL. Still planning to finish it don’t worry.

I also need to start branching away from manga and start reading more novels and light novels, too just so I can make more pretty graphs.

Visual Novels: Time Spent Reading and Daily Word Count

Also known as images that clearly show that I’ve already spent several days only reading the prologue of Island. I’m not sweating. 切那 needs to stop using words I don’t know in succession. More thoughts on this VN far into the future.

Thoughts on Immersion

I can’t really say anything else other that that it works for me, and needless to say if you’re considering this method, remember that the SRS is your friend but immersion should be your one true love.

Prior to all this, I couldn’t even read a sample paragraph from Genki without being confused to my very soul. Yes, I know, it’s embarrassing, but that’s the truth. I was way more scared of failing my Japanese classes than my actual thesis for my bachelors degree, I kid you not. I would quite literally spend all my free time in university trying to understand grammar, memorize vocabulary, and answer my workbook exercises with little to no success.

I tried so hard to get all the grammar “formulas” into my head for 1.5 years and it only brought me more confusion. I’m never going back to traditional classroom study for language learning, but I will still refer to grammar books when I need to, and not because I feel like I need to answer 4783342 different workbook exercises like my life depended on it.

I still can’t believe it, but with immersion this statement is actually true to a point, don’t try shadowing anime/or calling your boss anime language slurs, use your common sense:

study anime to understand Japanese > study Japanese to understand anime

Future Goals/Plans

2,200 immersion hours was my initial goal, but honestly I feel like that number could be much higher. There’s still a lot of stuff I don’t understand (news, politics, sciences, etc.), so I’ll make attempts to cover more of those things in my immersion.

I’ll continue reading more, because that’s a natural SRS in itself. Try to read longer manga, more novels, visual novels, and light novels, and maybe news articles.

I’ll try to mine as much “JLPT vocab” as I can before making any attempts at taking the JLPT. I noticed that a lot of the words I know don’t appear in the JLPT word lists as much, even though they appear a lot in media/daily conversation.

Continue mining all words I don’t know because all words are useful anyway. There is no such thing as useless words. I never really understood mining only “interesting words” or words that “pop up” in your immersion. As I said in my previous blog post, 美人局 is an interesting word and I certainly caught it being said in my immersion, but in the three languages I know, I wouldn’t know when I would be able to use such a word, as compared to something like ジャガイモ which is a significantly less interesting word, but is certainly useful to know.

I have managed to talk up a storm, but if you have any questions regarding my process or recommendations for new immersion material, please feel free to send an ask/reply to this post. I love hearing about other people’s language learning/immersion journeys.

See you on my next post!

#language learning #japanese language #language acquisition #study blog #langblr #studyblr #graphs #language immersion #japanese #visual novels #manga #novels #anime #dramas #movies #youtube #podcasts

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imagine-this-fandom · 4 years ago

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BNHA x Fem! Reader: The Rescue- Red Siamese

The rescue intro- Here

A/N: Warning! There are mentions of domestic Abuse! Nothing graphic, just mentions of behaviors picked up from living in an abusive household!

Inko led you back into the main store and past rows of all sorts of tanks, stopping in front of a door with cute little pawprints running up the side. At the top of the door, the word CATS was in big bold letters. She opened the door and ushered you inside, carefully closing the door behind you.

The main room had various toys and structures spread out for the cats to enjoy. There were felines everywhere, and almost all of them watched you as you entered.

"Hmmmm... Where could he be hiding today?" Inko mused to herself, searching for a particular cat.

While she was preoccupied, you took this time to explore. You looked at all the cats scampering around the room. Some let you pet them, while others hung back warily. One of these cautious cats caught your eye. He was small and cream in color. His markings could make him a Siamese, but what stood out most was a faded shock of red covering the left side of his face. You watched him for a moment before slowly making your way over. He was cautious of your presence. You could see it in the way his body was tensed ever so slightly. You took it slowly as you got closer, not wanting to scare him. Once you were within two feet of him, you stopped and sat down, smiling at him encouragingly.

"Hey handsome, what are you doing over here by your lonesome?"

You didn't make a move to pet him, but watched him carefully, taking in his features and behavior.

Alongside his odd coloring, his eyes fascinated you. One was a calm grey while the other was an electrifying blue.

You hummed quietly as you sat and watched him, wanting to pet him, but also not wanting to scare him away.

This was how Inko found you.

"There you are! Oh, you found Shoto."

She gently scooped up the duel colored cat, much to his confusion.

"This is Shoto! He's the one I was looking for so you can take him home!"

While the cat was confused with his new perspective, he didn't seem that bothered with it. He had a cool and calm demeanor that was both odd for a cat and completely on par with what you'd heard.

"He's shy, but i think a sweetheart like you is exactly what he needs to open up!" Inko proclaimed, transferring the cat into your arms. She then set to work gathering cat related supplies for you. You watched her in silence, still a little bit stunned at your luck. The cat was quiet and seemed to just be observing the situation as well. You considered petting him, but with his wary nature earlier, you didn't want to risk startling him.

Once Inko had gathered a good size bag of supplies, she took Shoto from you and carefully ushered him into a pet carrier and handed it off to you.

"You're all set! Call if you have any questions! Good luck.”

You set out fairly confidently, but stopped frequently to check on your new pet. He was so quiet, it was a tad unnerving. Every time you paused to check on him, he would look up at you blankly. You were torn between the idea of him being incredibly smart, or just very very empty. He could be just observing calmly, or he could have nothing but elevator music behind his eyes. You had no clue and weren’t sure which one you were hoping for.

Once you reached your apartment, you set the carrier in the middle of the living room and opened the door for him before busying yourself with setting up his supplies. You set out cat food and water and set up all the different things Inko had given you. While you were invested in setting things up, Shoto carefully wandered the apartment. It was fairly modest, but so different from the traditional Japanese home he had grown up in. It was cozy, but he noticed with interest that you didn’t have pictures up. Apparently you didn’t get along with your family. At least you had something in common.

You gave Shoto a wide berth as you walked past him to your room, not wanting to startle him and start off on the wrong foot on night one. He followed at a distance, Deciding it was important to analyze you and your behavior as you would be sharing a living space.

You both settled down for the night in your prospective beds, albeit shoto found sleep much more slowly than you did.

He didn’t sleep all that well. Waking up at the smallest noise. He awoke for the final time when he heard you make your way to the kitchen, body heavy with sleep as you continued on your quest for coffee.

You gave him a tired smile from over your mug.

“Well good morning strawberry shortcake!” You chirped.

Shortcake? He was very confused and let out a bewildered little mew.

“It’s because of your red streak! You’ve got the white of whipped cream, and a strawberry streak” You pointed out his coloring fondly, already deciding that he was a sweetheart, so he needed a sweet nickname to match.

He just eyed you in growing confusion. He absolutely thought you were strange… But you seemed nice. You reminded him a little of both Izuku and Ochaco with your kindness and willingness to befriend him. Still, he was not used to it in the slightest.

You quickly got to work making food, glad to be able to spend this day off of work. You couldn’t wait to get to know Shoto. Sure he was a bit.. Cold. But you were sure that if you worked with him, you’d unlock that heart of gold within. You noticed with growing concern that he never let you out of his sight. It made you worried to see him so wary. Sure it made sense that he would be on guard in his new environment, but there were other habits you caught that made you more upset.

Shoto didn’t know he was doing it, but he always sat where he could see all the exits. Even though he was light enough on his feet not to be heard, he had already mapped out where to step to make the least amount of noise. You also disliked that he hesitated before turning corners. At first you thought it was just shyness peeking through, but you were in the same room… He did it regardless if you were around or not. This was a learned habit. You were definitely going to have to call Inko later. From what you could tell, Shoto didn’t seem to feel safe. He was on edge constantly and something told you that was not normal.

You grimly tucked this info into the back of your mind and decided you were going to make your little shortcake feel loved and safe, no matter what it takes. You were determined and started to formulate a plan. First things first though, you had to make sure he was taken care of.

“Shortcake, do you want some food? I made a little extra egg for you. I still don’t know what you like, but I promise I’ll do my best to find out.”

You slipped some eggs into his dish and curled up on the floor a few feet away, your own plate of food cradled in your arms. Shoto padded over to his dish, curious as to your motive, but pleased with your offering nonetheless. He sniffed carefully and took the smallest nibble before deeming it safe to eat. You were a decent caretaker so far, but he was determined to keep his distance as necessary. He wasn’t one to form attachments needlessly. You were supposed to take care of him. Having never had a pet of his own before, the concept was strange to him. Why would someone want the extra responsibility of caring for another creature? What did you gain from this experience?

As he ate, you nibbled on your own food, mind swirling with ideas for how to put the cat more at ease. Perhaps he’d like a heated blanket to lie on? Or maybe you should get him a cat tree. You’d definitely have to find a treat he liked so you could slowly gain his trust.

And so the day continued. You spent your time attempting to befriend Shoto without pushing his comfort zone. He was surprised by your resilience, and it wasn’t long before he became accustomed to your presence. You were...calming. You never made sudden moves around him and whenever he caught you looking at him, you had a soft smile firmly in place.

You finally took a break from Shoto watching for dinner. You had made soba, albeit slightly distractedly. You were expecting a call from Inko once she closed the pet shop. The call came at the most inopportune time and you had to sadly abandon your food in order to take the call. You walked out onto your balcony to talk, not wanting to bother your strawbaby with your pacing as you talked.

Once the glass door slid shut, you turned your full attention to the voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey Inko, it’s great to hear from you, but I had a few questions about Shoto.”

“Of course my dear! What can I help you with?”

You bit your lip and carefully considered your questions.

“Did he grow up in the store, or was he owned before?”

There was a pause on the other end as Inko tried to think of how to phrase her next words.

“Well dear, all of my pets are rescued. Each had their own stories before they found their way to me. I will admit, young Shoto worried me. He was always really quiet and reserved. He got along with a few other animals and rarely initiated any interaction.”

You inhaled sharply, tears starting to sting as you mulled this new information over.

“Thank you for your help, Mrs. Midoriya, that helps a lot. That was my main question.”

“Of course dear. You’re always welcome at the shop and I’d love to hear from you soon. Any updates on Shoto are also welcome. I really do think you adopting him will be good for him.”

You smiled even though you knew she wouldn’t see it.

“I’ll try to talk again soon, bye.”

You hung up and sighed heavily, almost certain in your suspicions now. It was a firm fact in your mind that Shoto had been abused in his previous home. Sure cats were wary creatures, but you knew that the meticulous and practiced behaviors you had seen were not normal. You were wrestling with several emotions internally. Sadness for him was a main one, as well as seething anger for whoever had hurt your sweet boy. Determination won over in the end.

You had been so lost in thought, you had barely noticed the passing of time. You were drawn out of your thoughts by a chilly breeze as the moon made an appearance in the sky. You hugged yourself and made your way back inside only to pause at a strange sight. Shoto was perched on the table, happily consuming the now cold soba you had prepared earlier.

While you were unsure if that was the best choice for him, he seemed to be enjoying himself. So you did the logical thing and heated up some soba for yourself and joined him at the table. He gave you a small uninterested look before returning to his meal. You both ate in silence for a while and you were pleased to see that he didn’t dash away when he finished. He politely waited for you to finish your own food, calm gaze fixed ahead.

*****

As the days passed, he started to open up a bit more. It wasn’t a dramatic change, but he was more at ease with your presence. He began to actively seek you out if you were in a different room. The space he put between you was shrinking too. You were elated!

As excited as you were with the progress, you still weren’t expecting it when Shoto actually sat beside you. You had been reading a book on the couch when you felt the cushion dip next to you. Looking to your side, you spotted white and red fur nestled against your side. You stilled so as not to make a move that would scare him off. He was relaxed for the most part, but he seemed to be waiting for something. If you could hear his thoughts, you would be able to understand his tentative presence. He was testing the waters of his newfound companionship with you. The longer you stayed still without shooing him away, the less he felt like an intruder.

You didn’t want to ruin his moment, but this was the closest he’d been to you since you had got him from the shop. You wanted to let him know that he was okay where he was and that you were happy he was there. You tentatively reached out a hand, going slow so he had every opportunity to pull away. Your hand came to rest on his back and you trailed your fingers lightly over him. His eyes seemed to widen a little from the contact, but he made no move to pull away or stop you, so you continued to pet him, adding a little more pressure. Before you knew it, he was relaxing and leaning into your touch.

Shoto wasn’t used to the feeling, but now that he had it, he didn’t want it to stop. Your touch was gentle and warm. He knew what it was like to have contact with someone, but it was something completely different with you. You were always so gentle with him. Even now as your fingers smoothed over his fur, you were tender and soft with your touch. It was comforting in a way he hadn’t ever remembered experiencing before, especially growing up/ He was used to strict schedules, rules clad in iron as well as grueling training that he was forced to endure for a good deal of his life. His childhood was spent in isolation from his siblings and fond human touch. Your encouragement and touch were so different from everything he had grown up with. It was a relief he didn’t even know he needed.

Without thinking, his eyes drifted closed as he gave in to the bliss the petting sensations were causing. He was startled when something gave way within his chest and a low rumbling began to build up. He was freaked out until he heard your soft gasp. He looked up to see a wide beaming smile on your face, seemingly triggered by the low rumbling sound he was making.

“Awww, Shortcake, I knew you had a purr in there somewhere!” Your petting became more enthusiastic as the rumbles increased in volume.

Judging by your reaction, he had nothing to be worried about, and it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, just strange. He decided just this once not to worry about it, and let you continue as he closed his eyes again, letting himself melt against your soothing touch.

You were absolutely overjoyed. You had been working really hard over the past weeks to get close to the cold cat. Now he was a purring puddle under your fingers. Poor baby just needed someone to love him. Your heart was simultaneously overjoyed and broken by his reaction. You made a solemn promise to yourself to make sure he would always feel loved so long as you were around.

******

As months passed, you kept your promise to the best of your abilities. You spent as much time as you could spare with Shoto, be it cuddles on the couch or play time with the toys you got him. He didn’t seem all that into the toys, but he would always give in after a while. He knew it made you happy when he chased the silly feather toy on the string. He personally did not find it fulfilling, but he had grown to adore the smile and laughter that came with it. He knew it wasn’t exactly the most logical thing, but he had started to look forward to your smiles everyday. He began to miss you as you went to work and took that lovely smile with you. While he didn’t mind his alone time at first, it became more boring and frustrating to bear. He became very entuned with your schedule.

Recently, Shoto had started to notice something was wrong. You were staying at work for longer and getting home later recently. This past week, you had barely been home with him at all. It was honestly starting to concern him. You had always made time for him and he was starting to miss you. You looked run down all the time, and you had a cough that was steadily getting worse. Yet you insisted that you work with him. You were so patient and caring as you spent time talking to him and cuddling with him.

You seemed to be pushing yourself to work harder and harder at your job. He noticed that you were exhausted, you looked dead on your feet whenever he caught you by yourself. However, you were quickly back to sunshine and smiles whenever you knew he was around, as if you could fool him into thinking nothing was wrong.

“Hey strawbaby, how’s my sweet boy today? “ You happily cooed to him and patted the chair beside you.

While he didn’t quite understand your love of nicknames, he was growing used to it and enjoying it a little if he were honest with himself. If that is what you wished to call him, he would respond. He hopped up next to you and was pleased to catch a sweet smile turning up the corner of your lips. You showed affection so readily and quickly, even though you barely knew anything about him. It didn’t seem to be for any self serving reason, especially because you didn’t know who he really was anyway. Your fingers quickly found their way into his fur and he gladly submitted to your touch. As much as he missed being human, he couldn’t deny that this feeling was one he quite enjoyed. His body betrayed his thoughts as his eyes closed in delight and a low rumbling purr escaped his chest.

“Sorry I’ve been so busy lately. I promise I’ll try to spend more time with you soon, but I’ve been taking on some extra shifts at work.”

You pulled him into your arms so he rested on your stomach and you could address him more directly.

From his new vantage point, he could see that while you were smiling, you had dark circles under your eyes. This wouldn’t do, but he couldn’t see a way to help in his current state.

You pressed a tired kiss to the top of his head and leaned back on the couch, closing your eyes as you breathed deeply.

You had only meant to rest your eyes for a little bit, but were quickly lulled to sleep by Shoto’s comforting weight on your chest. Your breathing was a bit more shallow than he liked, but he decided he’d just have to keep an eye on it.

You jolted awake a couple of hours later to the sound of your phone alarm. You hissed in pain as you carefully slipped Shoto off your chest and hurried to get ready for the opening shift you had taken. You made sure Shoto had food and fresh water before giving the apartment one last glance, gaze softening with love as it landed on your sleeping cat. You blew a kiss to the fur ball before stepping out into the cold, coat forgotten in your haste to arrive on time.

You worked a long and grueling day, covering shifts for other coworkers at every opportunity and dealing with hard customers as the weather made people irritable. You kept telling yourself that things could only get better as the day continued, this ended up a lie, but you were determined to not let the hard day get the worst of you. You hadn’t admitted it to Shoto, but you were running yourself ragged. You were honestly running low on funds right now and the heating costs as well as rent were starting to get costly. Not to mention that you had a cat to support too. He was strange in that he didn’t care for any cat food you provided, so you supplemented as best you could with various human food to make sure he got the nutrients he needed. You were dead tired, but you loved that cat to the ends of the Earth and would do anything for him. You kept repeating that you were doing this for him as you pushed through your work load and continued home.

You were almost certain you were sick, but it wasn’t anything serious as far as you were concerned.

((Yeah, covid isn’t going to be a thing in this universe because it’s the last thing I would want to read/write about, so don’t worry.))

You shivered as you walked home, trying your best to distract yourself from the cold as you walked. Your head ached and it hurt to think. Your head felt fuzzy and full in a way that made your whole body feel heavy. Perhaps you’d try to take a later shift tomorrow.

Shoto was waiting for you when you opened the door and even though you were still shivering heavily from your walk, your heart was warm. You reached down and pet him after closing the door behind you.

“Hey shortcake, how’s my handsome boy?”

You went to stand back up and had to brace your arm against the wall as a wave of dizziness shot through you. You groaned and closed your eyes, clutching your head as you leaned on the wall, waiting for it to pass. Shoto looked up at you with concern, reaching up and putting a paw against your leg, trying to express his concern. That was definitely not normal for you.

You gave him a soft pat and moved further into the apartment.

“I’m okay Shoto, just a dizzy spell. I guess I pushed it a bit at work today!”

He looked back at the spot where you had crouched in pain. He hated how weak your breath sounded and the pain that had marred that lovely smile when you had leaned there. You were really scaring him!

His fears were realized when he heard a loud thud behind him. He whipped around and saw with horror that you were on the ground. Terror gripped his heart and he raced to your side. He was relieved without a doubt to find that you were still breathing, however your breaths were strained and raspy from the cough that had crept in over the past week. He tried to nudge you awake, but he couldn’t seem to rouse you. He felt helpless and more than that, terrified for your safety.

He tried desperately to come up with a plan. What should he do? Oh, if only he were human agai-

His frantic thoughts were cut short with a quiet popping sound and a nauseating change in perspective. He was taller. No.. not taller, human. He looked down at his hands in shock before also noting with relative indifference that he also was devoid of clothes. He would have felt cold, but his quirk kicked in and his temperature regulated itself.

He turned his attention to the most important task at hand and quickly crouched beside you. He flipped you onto your back so you could breathe more easily and carefully picked you up, arm going around your back and the other under your knees. He slowly lifted you up, your head settling against his chest and shoulder. You looked so weak and tired, it twisted his heart painfully. He carefully carried you to your room and set you on your bed. His thoughts switched to hero mode as he analyzed the situation. You obviously hadn’t been getting enough sleep, and your body had given out on you. You were hot to the touch and he noticed that your sweater was soaked from the snow on your walk home.

He got to work and stripped you of your outer clothes, having to do a little search before he located proper sleepwear and slipped it onto you. He then quickly took a clean cloth and created an ice pack with his quirk. He settled the pack on your forehead and tucked you into the bed, pleased to see the shivering ease.

He knew that he just needed to wait and watch for now, so he busied himself with finding clothes for him. He knew that when you woke up, you would be confused and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you. He eventually found a pair of sweatpants and a sweater that fit decently and he hurried back to your side.

He didn’t leave your side again for the rest of the night. His hand found solace in yours, his thumb making comforting circles over your knuckles. He wished more than anything that you would open those beautiful eyes and smile at him again. He got his wish shortly after one AM.

You stirred and squeezed his hand as you woke up. Your head felt worse than before and nothing felt right. You almost felt like you were drunk. Everything felt fuzzy and unreal. Your eyes widened in the dim moonlight as they landed on a figure you had never seen before, at least not in this form. You were looking at Shoto with such awe and confusion, he was a little taken aback.

“Are you an angel?”

If your expression had taken him by surprise, your question absolutely stunned him.

“I’m not an angel, (y/n). How are you feeling?”

You pouted, scrunching your face in pain.

“I feel dead. And you are an angel. You knew my name and I feel dead, and you’re too attractive to be human. That’s just facts.” You pointed out, hand slipping from his to rest on his cheek.

You were beyond adorable and he was honestly glad to see you awake again.

“I fail to see the logic behind that, but I’m more concerned with the feeling dead part. I can confirm that you are not dead, but you are really sick. Here, drink some water.”

He gently removed your hand and helped you sit up a little bit, bracing the back of your neck as he held a cup to your lips.

You thankfully sipped the offered water, the coolness soothing your sore throat. You gave him a weak smile once you had drank what you could. Your eyes tiredly looked over your so-called angel and you let out a small gasp.

“Your eyes are grey and blue! Just like my Shoto!” Your eyes widened with panic after a second.

“My cat! Angel, if I’m dead, who’s going to take care of him?! I need to go back! I need to make sure he’s alright! He’s going to think I abandoned him.”

You started to sluggishly claw at the blankets around you, struggling to get your body to respond.

Shoto carefully pushed you back down, shushing your cries and murmuring reassurances until you had settled down a bit. You now had tears making tracks down your face as you looked at him desperately, mind still foggy from the fever.

“Promise me he’s okay? I made a promise to make sure he was loved! I don’t want him to be alone or hurting again, he needs me!”

His heart clenched at your words and he crouched beside, cupping your cheek with one hand, thumb wiping away the tears that had escaped.

“It’s alright, (y/n). Shoto is alright. He’s more worried about you right now. You’re not dead, you’re safe and so is he. I need you to calm down and try to sleep, okay? You can see Shoto in the morning. You have to rest for me now, alright?”

You gave a small nod and settled back against the pillow. You tilted your head to the side a little and kissed the palm of his hand where it still rested against your face.

“Thank you angel… I’ll try and sleep. I need to get better for Shoto.”

A small warm smile spread across his face and you drifted off with the thought that the angel’s smile was the prettiest thing you had ever seen in your life.

*******

When you awoke the next morning, you were still in a lot of pain, but you were definitely more lucid. You moved to stretch, but found an unfamiliar weight in your way. You looked to your side to see your hand was caught in the grasp of a sleeping man. You truthfully should have been freaked out, but you were oddly calm. Nothing like waking up to find the literal man of your dreams at your bedside. Rather than wake him, you took this time to drink in his features. In the morning light, you noted the odd coloring of his hair. It wasn’t until he shifted that you got a good look at his face. When you did, you heart nearly stopped. He had a red scar covering his eye on the left side of his face! Not only that, the placement was exactly like the marking on your cat.

He must have felt the difference in your grip because he slowly started to stir. Your theory of shapeshifting cats was now gaining a whole lot of evidence as you locked eyes with a gorgeous set of mismatched eyes you would recognize anywhere.

“S-shoto? You’re human.” Your already scratchy voices sounded even more strained as you were struck in shock.

The man in question just gave a small nod and placed the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Your fever is gone. How are you feeling?”

You blinked. You were having trouble processing, but his total nonchalance was equally as jarring as the situation was.

“I’m feeling… confused. And sore. “

He nodded and offered you a cup of water which you gratefully took from him. Your memories of the night before slowly returned as you both stared at each other in silence. It seems like as he was in his feline form, he wasn’t very talkative.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You mumbled, a shy smile crossing your face.

A small smile of his own formed and you nearly choked on your water.

“Of course, I couldn’t stand by while the girl I love suffers.”

Once again you nearly choked on your water. He frowned and took the glass from you before you accidentally drowned yourself.

“I think you should try to rest some more. I’ll go make you some food and we can talk then.”

He stood as he made his announcement. He hesitated for just a moment before he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and walked out.

You sat in stunned silence. You absolutely had questions, but right now you were going to do as your angel had asked. You were smitten and from the way he acted… so was he. You looked forward to learning more about who he was and how he came to be in your life, but you could wait and let him take care of you just a little while longer...

#shoto todoroki #bnha todoroki #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #mha shoto

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walviemort · 4 years ago

Text

hidden blessing (7/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

a/n: Sorry for the long gap between chapters! Life and all that. But hopefully there will be less gap between this and the next ones, and hope it was worth the wait!

To Killian’s surprise, part of Emma’s plan of preparation was rest; she was pointedly looking at him when she made the suggestion, and honestly, he’d been too relieved at the idea to say anything against it. Even more shockingly, Regina agreed, and for the first time since they’d set foot in this accursed land, Killian finally felt rested; even the nausea had abated, though he was sure it wouldn’t last long.

What did concern him, however, was the sound of David struggling once they finally set off toward Pan’s camp. Snow teased him, but Killian was worried that his brush with the Lost One’s arrow had been far too close.

And then, of course, Pan moved the camp—in the opposite direction that they’d been moving. As usual, Regina was quick to blame him and call for the use of magic. Which was a terrible idea, and he told her so, but did give him another.

“How are we going to find it?” she sniped.

“By using someone he trusts,” he replied, patience waning.

“Who?” David challenged. “Because I guess he certainly doesn't trust you.”

He’d never gain ground with David, would he? “A fairy who lived here when I was about,” he explained, ignoring the jab. “She might still be on the island. She'd be an inside source, knows all about the camp, can get us in. She might even have some pixie dust left. Perhaps we could fly in.”

In the continuation of their hot-and-cold relationship, David supported the idea—and Emma apparently discovered another person she knew to be fictional was real. If he ended up raising this child in Storybrooke, he’d have to be sure to keep such tales far away from them.

They redirected, but David was flagging. And Killian hated that he knew why.

It took some prodding, but David eventually was convinced to show Killian his injury, lifting his shirt just enough to expose his lower abdomen. The more hormonal part of Killian was slightly jealous of the man’s not only flat, but incredibly well toned stomach, briefly mourning the loss of his own, but it gave way to dread: there was a long, shallow slice along David’s side, and black veins were already spreading from the cut.

And yet, David still tried to argue that “The arrow only nicked me.”

But Killian had seen enough brushes with the vile poison to know what lay ahead. The sight turned his stomach, dredging up painful memories. But the stubborn prince wouldn’t heed his advice to tell his family.

“Pixie dust,” David insisted was the answer. “You believe in this Tinker Bell's power? In her pixie dust?”

“Indeed, I do.” Tink had never given him reason not to. (Though, to be fair, most of their interactions were a bit more physical than verbal, and with the way the slightest thing had him aroused right now, he didn’t dare wander down that path of memory.)

“Then let's get her and that dust.”

It was hard to argue with that.

Her treehouse was still in the same spot; given his familiarity, he headed up first, only to find it empty. (Although still far too familiar; memories of one particular night spent in that hammock definitely stirred some things he hadn’t wanted stirred. Bloody hormones.)

Thankfully his pants were still loose enough to hide anything he didn’t want shown as the rest of the crew joined him in the treehouse, although their search came up empty.

Well, not entirely—while Emma and Snow were reminiscing on the hovel’s resemblance to some places they’d lived, David uncovered a handkerchief. Of Regina’s.

He should have known Tink would be steps ahead of them; she usually was.

Thankfully, she hadn’t caused Regina any harm—and Emma managed to convince her to join them. He wasn’t really surprised—Emma clearly had that way with lost souls such as themselves—though he had assumed his own rapport with the fairy would be required.

(He was pleased, however, that Tink was not averse to his flirtations, even if she was no longer the main object of them.)

Their shared history meant she could read him too well, though. On the trek back to their campsite, she sidled up to him. “So who knocked you up?” she bluntly whispered.

How the hell could she tell? Not that it really mattered, he supposed. “First time you’ve seen me in 30 years and that’s your first question?”

“Well, you weren’t the last time I saw you. Oh god—it wasn’t me, was it?”

He chuckled. “No, lass, it was not.” He had a keen memory for these things and he and Tink, despite the numerous positions they explored, never managed the specific one required for conception. “And actually, I was when you last saw me; I just didn’t know it yet.”

The moment of realization was visible on her face. “Oh my goodness. Then let me say congratulations.”

“Thanks, love.”

She then punched him in the shoulder. “You better be damn careful.”

“Bloody hell; that doesn’t exactly help.”

She helped them gather up some coconuts to share before settling in for the night (or whatever part of day it was; his circadian rhythm was definitely off, and his random bouts of fatigue didn’t help). After they’d passed them around, he sat down and was starting to notch a hole in one with his hook when Emma took a seat next to him.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” she asked quietly. “Stomach feeling alright and everything?”

He was speechless for a moment; despite her previous admission, he was surprised she cared. But her green eyes were staring him down, demanding an answer. “Aye; nothing too bad today; thank you for asking.” He broke through to the hollow core of the coconut and handed it to Emma. She took a sip and smiled.

“Damn, that’s good. I didn’t just take yours, did I?” He replied by grabbing another one and holding it aloft. “Good. You need to stay hydrated.”

“I’m aware, doctor.”

She snorted at that and took another sip, but then her smile drifted away as she swallowed. “So, uh, you seemed to know Tink pretty well.”

“Aye, you could say that; we go back quite far.”

“Were you two—is she—?” Emma stammered, then nodded toward his midsection. He had to bite back a laugh.

“Yes and no,” he answered. “We did know each other intimately, but not that intimately.”

She adorably scrunched her face in confusion, then shrugged. “Okay, I was just curious. You still need to explain all that to me, but not tonight.”

“No, not tonight; you better rest up.”

“You too, okay?”

“Aye, captain.”

She rolled her eyes, but stood and headed back toward where her parents sat. The longer he spent in her presence, the more he felt it when she left. This was definitely not the time or place to be warring with those feelings, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He was mature enough to set them aside and focus on the bigger picture—saving Henry and escaping this cursed realm—but bloody hell was it difficult.

The near-constant flutters within began their tiny dance again; he hoped the way his hand rested on his belly was perceived as casual. Feeling that was yet another reminder of his goals here: to make it out alive for the sake of the babe, and let no harm come to them.

He was allowed to have some fun along the way, though—right?

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

Of course, those moments were few and far between. The next day brought Tink’s uncomfortable reminder that they’d yet to figure out a way out of Neverland, and led them chasing ghosts across the island as he brought them to Bae’s old hideaway.

He had never let the lad know that he was aware of its location. Or that he’d been keeping an eye on him ever since he left the Roger. That was still his greatest regret, and he hoped no one noticed the tears brimming at his eyes as he moved to uncover the entrance to Bae’s cave.

Deflection usually helped; he did find a brief moment to engage Emma, but David stepped in before she could reply. It was hard to tell if it was fatherly protection or pure stubbornness against his own fate that was the motivation. Of course, David didn’t want to hear another lecture about his situation as they opened the cave, but he got one anyway; perhaps this pregnancy was elevating Killian’s already intense protective instincts, but the man’s insistence on hiding his condition was infuriating and heartbreaking.

Honestly, the only thing that kept him back from really tearing into David was Emma calling out for him from the cave. His heart gave a leap at that, one that was clearly distinguishable from the rolling of his stomach that typically accompanied nausea, and he headed in with one last glance at David. He could deal with him later, but he’d not leave a lady waiting.

“What is this place? What are we doing here?” she demanded impatiently, trying to make out anything in the dark of the cave. Ever one for the dramatic reveal, Killian headed straight to a waiting torch on the back wall and quickly made to light it with his flint against his hook. At least, he had hoped it would be quickly, but the ever present humidity made that difficult; and then David was again pushing him aside with some firestarter from his realm. Bloody hell, was that man stubborn. But it had the desired effect, and Emma quickly realized where they were. “Neal,” she said on a breath, studying the chalk drawings that covered nearly every surface. “This is where he lived.”

“Aye,” he confirmed. “Baelfire spent some time in Neverland as a boy. This was his home.” His eyes were immediately drawn to a reproduction of the port and starboard coordinates that were still etched into the Jolly Roger’s helm, sending a wave of guilt and sadness through him.

The group wasted no time in beginning to search for a clue as to how Bae had left; clearly, it had been in a rush. And if Killian used it as an excuse to hover around Emma...well, that was his business.

“Anything important?” he asked as she inspected the wall.

“I can't tell yet. I didn't know he liked drawing.”

“He got it from his mother,” Killian found himself blurting out; it was also easy to see Milah’s influence in Bae’s style, and his hand immediately fluttered to his belly on instinct. Emma gave him a sympathetic half smile, but then turned her attention back to the task at hand—and in the process, discovered the way off...partly.

It was a rather ingenious device, he had to admit: a star map hidden in a coconut. Practical and creative; he couldn’t help the rush of pride he felt when he explained it to the group.

“Then you can read it,” Regina stated, uncharacteristically hopeful. Which made the next part all the harder.

“Sadly, no.” Because of course, Bae had made sure to encode the coordinates in a manner that only he could read.

“Which means the only person who can read it is dead,” Emma summarized, clearly upset. She tossed the map aside and hurried out of the cave in a fluster. Her parents tried to follow, but didn’t get far before she told them she needed space.

Kililan only waited a minute before following.

She was only a few yards outside the cave entrance, forearm pressed against a tree as she stared at the ground and, most likely, was trying not to express any undesired emotion.

“You alright, love?” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her.

She huffed. “No, not really. Just one step forward and three back, every fucking day.”

She continued to rant without any input from him—about the jungle, about Pan, about missing Henry, and her mixed feelings toward Bae. And it became abundantly clear to Killian that she needed a respite (he certainly could use one, too).

He knew just the place, too. “Swan, can I show you something?”

“Is it another way off the island?”

“Afraid not, but I think it’s what you need right now.”

She sighed, mildly defeated (which was still as much as he’d ever seen from her), but nodded.

It was a short walk to their destination—still within earshot of the Charmings if needed—but far enough to give them both some needed room to breathe. He brushed back a swag of foliage (after checking for dreamshade) and gestured for Emma to step through.

Years ago, he’d discovered the small spring here; one of the few parts of the island not bent on murdering its inhabitants. The water was fresh and cool, and various fruits and edible plants grew around the edge. Back then, he’d made a point to keep access to it open for Bae; he was relieved to see nothing had changed, save for the few vines grown over the entrance.

“It’s beautiful,” Emma sighed—a heavy thing of both awe and relief.

“Aye. Only a few places like it on the island.”

“Let me guess: the water is acid or something?”

He chuckled. “Blessedly, no. It’s one of the safest places here, actually. Bae would come here often—for water, and to bathe.”

She sighed. “Yeah, one of those sounds great right about now.”

“Go right ahead,” he said, gesturing to the spring. “I’ll keep a lookout for you.”

She arched an eyebrow and smirked. “How do I know this isn’t just a ploy to get me out of my clothes? Don’t forget: I know what pregnancy hormones are like.”

She wasn’t wrong, and he couldn’t help the rush of thrill when she flirted with him like that, sarcastic as it was—or the slight southern rush of blood. “Well, I had planned to do the same, if you’d offer me the same courtesy once you’re done.”

“Okay. But turn around,” she directed. He couldn’t say no to that.

He also wasn’t about to divulge the places his imagination wandered as he heard the gentle splashes of water as she cleaned herself.

She didn’t take long—he could tell she was used to being efficient when it came to hygiene, like he was—and was fully dressed by the time he turned around, though her wet hair was still dripping. And he was more relieved than he planned on that she was already facing away when it came time to remove his tunic; he was by no means ashamed of the curve of his belly, but showing off something that was apparently unnatural to the woman he fancied was suddenly a mortifying endeavor.

He was quick, too, in washing up, and in getting redressed—at least his tunic; he let his vest hang unbuttoned for a bit. It had also been a minor bit of relief to undo it, and he’d need a moment to subtly loosen the laces in order to make it both more comfortable and better disguise his slight bump.

He’d given Emma the all clear to turn around before he did that, though, lest she get suspicious. Although—she seemed mildly disappointed when she did.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, just...you didn’t have to hide your bump, if that’s what you were doing,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

“Bummed you couldn’t see me shirtless?” he quipped.

That drew a wry, side-eyed grin from her, before she sat down on a stone near the edge of the spring and took a long sip from her freshly filled jug. There was enough space on it next to her for another person to join, but he didn’t want to impose...at least, not until she called out, “Are you gonna join me or not?”

He picked up his vest and coat from where he’d left them in the sand of the small beach and made his way over, then settled next to her. She passed over the canteen; the water was cool and refreshing—and he nearly dropped it when the babe gave a strong kick. “I guess this one likes it too,” he said after he passed it back, and let his hand rest over his belly. It wasn’t often he felt strong movements like that, but each one was reassuring—that his babe was safe from all the dangers of this murderous island.

“Have they been doing that a lot?” Emma asked.

“Here and there; that’s one of the stronger ones I’ve felt.”

“I remember when Henry first did that,” she started. “I dropped my lunch tray, I was so startled. And they wouldn’t give me any more food. But it was...kind of incredible.”

He only understood half those words, but understood the sentiment. “I was still locked up in Tamara’s apartment when I felt the first one.”

“What a coincidence; I was in prison.”

He was growing to hate the number of parallels in their lives.

“Anyways—how’s everything else? Any nausea, cravings, anything?”

It was touching that she was so concerned, but he didn’t dare complain about anything other than the intermittent nausea. As she’d said, she knew about the hormones. “Although, my boots have been annoying tight,” he did add, “and I need to loosen my vest a bit.”

Her eyes had drifted to his midsection, but quickly glanced up. He couldn’t fault her for being curious, so he tugged the edge of his tunic up to reveal his stomach.

“Aww, that’s a cute bump,” she gushed; it was an odd thing to say, he thought, but she clearly meant it as a compliment. “You said sixteen weeks, right?”

“Aye,” he answered, impressed she remembered.

“Yeah, I think that’s where I was with Henry around then. I carried it all in front, apparently.” She quickly grew quiet, and he could tell that wasn’t the sort of thing she shared with too many people. But then her expression grew quizzical. “Can I ask...how, or where, exactly are you carrying?”

“I clearly have a womb,” he said, trying to make light of what was clearly going to be an awkward anatomical conversation.

“Well, yeah, but…you’re a guy. Also clearly,” she responded, eyes glancing at his groin.

“Yes; I have both, then, if that’s what you’re asking, but my womb is...I suppose less functional than yours.”

“So...what, you don’t get periods or something? How does this all work?”

He chuckled at her bluntness and explained—how his womb was something of a secondary characteristic, menstruation only occurred once a year or so, and conception was also only possible at a specific time and when the female partner was on top (a fact that made her blush). “Milah and I...our last joining before she died, it would have been the right circumstances, but given how slim the chances of conception were, it wasn’t something we were concerned with.”

“It only takes once,” she said knowingly.

“That it does,” he agreed.

They settled into an easy silence, and the baby started kicking again, even more once he put his palm over it.

“Do you...want to feel it?” he asked; no one but the doctor had thus far, but he knew women and their partners and friends usually shared those moments. They counted as friends, right?

He was worried she might think he was crossing a line, but she grinned. “Yeah!”

Gently, he took her hand and placed it over the spot just to the side of his navel where the babe was pressing. Hopefully, she didn’t notice his quick intake of breath at the feel of her warm palm on his skin.

If she did, it was quickly forgotten when the little one was kicking at her hand; her eyes lit up. “Hey there, kid,” she said softly. “Look at you, growing big and strong.”

She looked up at him, smiling—and very close to him, a fact she too seemed to suddenly realize, and she quickly moved away.

They lingered at the pond a while longer, enjoying the respite from the craziness of their journey.

But Killian couldn’t stop his heart from racing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from Emma’s proximity, or her interest in his babe, or both.

(Emma, she was surprised to find, was facing a similar predicament. She couldn’t linger on it, she knew, but maybe when they were done, she could try to figure out what that meant.)

But for one minute, they were just two friends enjoying a quiet moment.

————————————————–

thanks for reading! tagging @cocohook38 @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian jones ff #mpreg #killian mpreg #hidden blessing #My ff

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maxwell-grant · 4 years ago

Note

Can we talk about the Black Bat both in general, and and how he may have been an influence on two superheroes (Dr. Mid-Nite and Daredevil) and a supervillain (Two-Face), but was proven in a court of law to have no connection with the superhero who immediately comes to mind (Batman).

Having finally read a couple of his original stories and runs, yeah I got some thoughts on him.

While not the first bat-themed pulp character, nor the first fictional detective with a disability turned superpower (that would be Max Carrados, who actually was blind), Black Bat’s main claim to fame nowadays is his correlation to superheroes with the mixed traits he has that would all become massively popularized by characters who debuted afterwards. Regarding the Batman lawsuit, it wasn’t so much proven that they have no connection, as much as the publishers of both characters argued they did it first, and then agreed to stay out of each other’s territory, with Batman staying out of pulp magazines and The Black Bat staying out of comics (not that it would stop his publishers from rebranding him as “The Mask” and doing comics).

Black Bat actually couldn’t have inspired Batman, because Batman debuted 4 months prior. Plus, both were already ripping off the same guy, and both of them were far from the first bat-themed pulp characters at the time. And the idea that he inspired Daredevil I find too much of a reach. Dr Mid-Nite I can definitely see the resemblance, and while Two-Face doesn’t have much similarities to Tony Quinn past the origin and the anti-hero aspects, “handsome crusading District Attorney disfigured after getting splashed in the face by acid goes on a rampage” is not exactly vague enough of a concept to pass for coincidence. Two-Face debuted just 3 years after Black Bat, while Bat was still a pretty successful character (he managed to outlast nearly every other pulp hero), so it’s very possible that Kane and Finger had a look at Black Bat’s origin and used it as the basis for their Jekyll & Hyde-themed villain.

Okay so, that’s that for Black Bat, but what’s the character actually like? What’s there to him other than historical oddities? Does he have what it takes to survive and thrive again in a modern landscape?

The thing that sticks out to me about Black Bat is that he is a pulp character who feels like he was designed specifically with the arrival of the superheroes in mind, as when comic book superheroes began to carve a space for themselves, one of the responses the pulps had was to put out new heroes intended to be a part of both worlds, hybrids of pulp heroes and superheroes who could try to capture success in either format, characters like Ka-Zar and Black Hood who started in one and then jumped to the other.

Black Bat’s got a lot of the usual hallmarks of dark detective pulp heroes and his adventures are largely him battling ordinary criminal masterminds and gangsters, but he’s got an iconic costume, he’s got a super dramatic origin story that the stories keep coming back to (unlike most pulp heroes whose origin stories are not usually mentioned), and he’s got superpowers brought in the aftermath of a tragic accident. Not just skills anyone can have by training hard enough, actual superpowers, even if they don’t see as much usage as his pulp hero skillset.

To the world that knew about him, Anthony Quinn, once a virile, upstanding representative of law forces whose name had held terror for evil doers, was now an impotent blind man whose sight had been permanently destroyed by acid thrown at him in a crowded courtroom, and whose face was horribly scarred about the eyes. For a long time he had seemed to live in a world apart.

Such actually had been the case during the long months when Tony Quinn had lived in a sea of blackness. But Nature had been as kind as possible, giving him something in return for what had been taken from him. As a result he had since realized that his senses of feel, smell, and hearing were far more acute than formerly. Under his sensitive fingers whatever he touched had begun to tell strange new stories. His sense of smell had sharpened. His ears had become the ears of a hound, picking up with ease and sifting multitudinous sounds that once had been inaudible.

More months had gone by until, in the darkness of a lonely night, a girl with golden hair and blue eyes hadcome in through an open window like an angel out of nowhere to offer him hope where eye specialists had said there was no hope. Through a delicate operation by an unknown small town surgeon the corneas of the eyes of Carol Baldwin's policeman father - dying from paralysis brought on by a gangster bullet - had been given to him. An extraordinary thing had occurred. When at last Tony Quinn had been allowed to remove the bandages, he had been astounded by the miracle that had happened. His were the eyes of darkness as well as the eyes of day!

Interestingly also, Black Bat actually became one of the most prolific of pulp heroes when brought over to Germany. When German publishers Pabel decided to reprint a couple of Black Bat novels for the KRIMINAL-ROMAN serial, they discovered “Die Schwarzen Fledermaus” was somehow so popular that in 1962, they retitled it Fledermaus (Bat) and ran with it, reprinting all the original 60+ stories and then, when those ran out, creating 900 more at least. In fact, it seems like they are still publishing Black Bat stories even today, and now that he’s public domain it’s something just about anyone could get into.

Problem with that is, it’s not easy to conceive of The Black Bat having any kind of substantial popularity again, when he’s doomed by design to always be compared to Batman, to always just be seen as first glance as “oh it’s earless Batman with Daredevil’s shtick and Two-Face’s backstory”, and of course he doesn’t have a chance in hell of playing catch-up to the popularity of those characters (well, at least outside of Germany). Whatever niche he could have as an alternative to Batman is also null by the fact that said niche of Not-Batmen is already filled out quite extensively. He doesn’t have an incredibly strong personality the way Batman and The Shadow do, nor is he, despite being ostensibly a serial killer, enough of a trigger-happy anti-hero to latch on to the appeal of characters like The Spider or Punisher. The latest Black Bat comic run by Dynamite played up his ruthlessness, outlaw status and drew him on the covers perpetually holding guns and often with a big creepy smile. But smiling murder pulp Batman is already a niche that Midnighter fills considerably better than Black Bat ever could. So what’s left for him?

If I had to find a unique niche for Black Bat, I’d play his unique traits in ways that separate him from the super characters that ran with those later. I’d ditch the whole “oh woe is me I’m poor and helpless because I’m blind” shtick that’s terribly condescending to actually blind people, and make him at least truly blind in some form. Maybe he’s blind by day and by night he sees too much, or maybe his vision has some terrible secrets that go beyond mere enhanced eyesight. Maybe his powers are growing and expanding in ways he doesn’t know where they will lead him. But alongside that, one take on the character could be based on the fact that he really has nothing to lose. He is not Batman, he is not The Shadow, he isn’t Daredevil, he’s got little reputation to speak of, and he’s never going to be any of those characters.

He’s lost the position he’s coveted his whole life, he’s lost the respect of his peers, his former professional ethics don’t mean shit now, he’s had a long and painful brush with darkness that scarred him for life in ways both literal and metaphorical, and in the aftermath he’s begun spontaneously developing abilities that would be incredibly painful and uncomfortable for an average person to just develop without years of growing up with them. And then, a mysterious woman walked through his window one day, gave him the eyes of a dead man, and now he sees things in ways no person was ever supposed to, and now he goes around at night terrorizing and killing criminals in an animal-themed costume.

The most he has to lose currently is the life of his sidekicks who’ve worked very hard to help him heal and focus and find a new purpose, which only means that they are on the chopping block everytime you wanna give a gut punch to Tony Quinn. And no matter how famous, or even great, his adventures are, or how prolific and successful he is or even has been, he’s always going to be the Bat-themed superhero who couldn’t cut it. He’s Not-Batman, stripped of all the grand splendour and allmighty self righteousness and reputation and role as foundational figure of an entire genre and most popular bestest superhero of all time ever praise be thy Bat God, sharing more traits with one of Batman’s most personal and tragic villains than the titular character.

That’s not an indictment, that just means that Black Bat ultimately should have more narrative freedom, since he is unburdened by reputation and status. He is a public domain nobody best known by his association with characters who eclipse him in popularity, who’s always going to have that accursed Bat prefix and costume to damn him by association, so why not work with it? He could be the character you go into to tell stories that you couldn’t tell with Batman or other big name superheroes, the grimiest, sickest, even weirdest crime tales of all. What does the Black Bat have to lose?

Those who have nothing to lose stand everything to gain, after all.

Also, Masks 2 once presented an alternative version of the character called The Black Bats, who dresses like a baseball player and dual-wields baseball bats, which is nutty and I’d definitely prefer Black Bat to ditch the generic pulp hero guns and instead just go crazy batting everything in his way.

“I gotta tell ya, this is pretty terrific! Hahahahah, yeah!”

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #the black bat #tony quinn #batman #two-face

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vegalocity · 4 years ago

Text

The Forest (Red Groom AU)

So i was like ‘I should rewatch the Princess Bride again before I jump back into this fic series’. So I re-read my own series as to remember where I was at, rewatched the Princess Bride, and blacked our for a few hours. And when I woke up I found this on my word processor lol

Also catch me messing with everyone ELSE’S dialogue but keeping the Prince’s 100% just Prince Humperdink’s lines so i don’t have to give him a personality (hats off to @starsfic for reminding me of the obvious ‘you don’t have to cast him at all’ thing)

The spotty light of the forest faded into the pitch of night as down, down the prince fell. By the time he hit the ground there was only the faintest patch of sunlight shining through the very sinkhole he'd fallen into.

Prince Red Son cursed his luck thrice times over as he took in the dark world around him, the caves surrounding him seemed to be more burrowed into the ground than they were naturally forming, which spelled both good and bad.

“Red Son! Can you hear me?! Are you alright?!” he heard Xiaotian's voice echo from above and the part of him that was still riding the high of his love being alive, and what's more still just as in love with him as he was, swooned at the care in his voice. If they had been safe at the time and Red Son allowed to linger on the feeling, he was sure he would feel much that of a child positively drowning in the ardor of their first love.

As it was he had to repress the feeling as much as he could. Later. When they were safe.

“I'm fine!” His legs felt like liquid beneath him but he was able to keep on his feet. “I think this is a burrow of some kind!”

“A burrow? Like an animal made that thing?! Hold on I'm coming down there-”

“I can climb back up!” The words came out before he really thought about them, driven mostly by pride; the prince had been dealing with being passed around his captors for the better side of two days now, and though he trusted Xiaotian with his life easily, the fact remained that he'd been at a distinct physical disadvantage with his magic restrained as it was.

And he was kind of tired of being helpless.

“Red,” And my, did the shortened version of his name sound intimate when spoken like that “-you could barely stand! You're injured it's okay! I'm coming down and getting you!”

“I'm not a child Xiaotian,” he just needed to figure out how to get back up without injuring himself further. Now, it wasn't a vertical drop, else he would have probably broken something on the descent down “Just allow me a moment to think of something!”

Now, it wasn't vertical but it WAS too steep a drop to easily climb by hand, he'd need something to act as ballast, like a rope of some kind-

“....You said your copy of the Monkey King's staff can grow or shrink, yes?”

“I....did?”

“Can you extend it down here so I can use it as a ballast to climb?”

“Oh! Yeah probably!”

Now he'd probably need something to ensure if he grip slipped he wouldn't fall for too long and injure himself like a fool once again. Now he hadn't had a lot on hand when the Spider Queen and her mercenaries had apprehended him—barely more than the simple travel clothes he'd been wearing—and what else he'd had had been lost in his captors' desperate fleeing from his love, so other than what he had in his pockets his only set of tools was the clothes on his back.

Ah! But he DID have the clothes on his back did he not? He shed the thin overcoat he'd been allowed after the Spider Queen had searched him for weapons and once the golden ended staff entered his sight he looped the body of it around the staff, and tied it off before tying the sleeves around his torso.

“Okay hold it steady!”

“Got it!”

Admittedly it wasn't the easiest climb, his arms still ached from his self inflicted burns, his legs still trembled from the force of the fall, but before too long had passed mottled daylight was around him again and he took Xiaotian's hand as he was pulled back over the ledge.

“Thank you.” Though he'll admit without most of his magic at his disposal he was tiring rather quickly. He held himself together infront of Xiaotian as his lack of firepower was already embarrassing to be caught by someone so important to him with, but being winded by a simple climb was a humiliation he'd like to be spared of.

“Anytime.” Xiaotian huffed a sigh “But if those are burrows down there we should really get out of this forest quick as we can-”

“And head off to your mountain?” the idea of Xiaotian, his humble noodle boy, having an entire mountain of his own to rule over (temporarily? He had no idea if Sun Wukong would want it back by the time his pilgrimage was complete or not) was such a strange concept, he wasn't sure if it had become quite real for him yet.

“Yup!” Ah, that sweet chipper tone, so sorely missed in the five long years they'd been apart and-

Wait...

“...You're going to tell your fathers as well right?”

Xiaotian paused, and he could see him pale a bit from his stance.

“...Oh man I really AM a dead man when they get ahold of me.”

He couldn't help the laugh at the idea, Xiaotian in that full Monkey King transformation sitting in the Inn all crumpled in on himself like a scolded child, with either of his parents just ripping into him.

“...Wow...” Xiaotian sounded breathless and when Red Son looked open him for a moment he was struck by the greatest sense of Déjà vu. That quiet afternoon in the inn when he'd glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and known his heart, But here was that look once more, in this darkened forest so long later.

“What?”

“Nothing I just... forgot how much I loved your laugh.” Xiaotian reached up and rubbed at his neck, a bashful grin making his cheeks turn pink, and Red Son felt his own face grow warm in response. Damn Noodle Boy still knew exactly what to say to make him a mess- “It's honestly so cute. That crazy cackle-”

-Nevermind. He scowled and now it was Xiaotian's turn to laugh.

“No I mean it! I love how wild it is!” He folded his arms and huffed, but didn't stop Xiaotian as he untangled them to link one of Red Son's arms in his own. “You throw your entire self into absolutely everything! It's admirable! And you already know how much I love your passion-” Dammit.

“We should try to find somewhere relatively safe before nightfall hits. Who knows what other dangers there are here.” He sniffed, as primly as he possibly could.

“Whatever they are we can handle it!” Xiaotian chirped in response, almost too optimistic, especially granted he'd JUST been saying that they should leave as fast as possible.

“I mean whatever made those burrows probably left awhile ago if so much plant matter had built up over them as to cover the air vents like that.” That was true-

“Well, what about the R.O.U.S? Isn't this their migratory region?”

“The Rodents of Unusual Size?” Xiaotian shook his head “I've passed through this forest before, never ran into them, I don't think they're anything but rumor.”

And then they pounced on them.

The Rodents of Unusual Size were pack animals so when they descended on the two of them they did so at least a dozen in number. Their most bold had tackled Xiaotian to the ground and and its size—roughly that of a small wheelbarrow—had sent him grappling with the creature, trying to get it off him and draw his staff at once.

Before the rest of the pack made its move Red Son gave the one on his love a swift kick, sending it yelping and scurrying off to regain its strength. Then the others began to descend on them. Xiaotian had drawn his staff in the respite and gotten back to his feet, but the most Red Son could improvise as a weapon was a nearby branch that had fallen from a tree.

He felt pathetic in comparison to Xiaotian at his back.

He hadn't even gotten out of the damn sinkhole without help. Sure it had been his plan but-

Xiaotian moved not flawlessly, he hadn't been combat trained when he'd left, and he'd only been trained by Sun Wukong for a short while before they'd parted ways, he'd gained his skills on the way instead of having them trained into him, and Red Son had fallen out of weaponry while he'd still been a boy.

One of the rodents lunged for him and he barely swiped the branch quick enough to bat it away. He sensed one nearing his blindspot and turned just a bit to keep it in his sight-

-and felt Xiaotian push him out of the way as another rodent lunged upon his turned back.

The grunt of pain-

The smell of human blood-

Xiaotian was knelt on the ground at his side, struggling with a rodent that had its teeth buried into his shoulder.

It was instinct, not emotion, not intent. The bone deep—soul deep—need to protect all he held dear, the memory of despair, the memory of joy. The words 'True love' spoken so matter of fact and plain. A simple statement of what was real instead of a challenge or declaration.

Seeing and smelling his blood and the very real danger and he'd been protecting him this was his fault he couldn't die like this he couldn't live to make his way back and return to Red Son just to die like this and have it be HIS FAULT-

Fire.

The golden bands on his wrists glowed, then shuddered-

-and then they broke.

And there was fire.

The rodent on Xiaotian was burned and burned and kept burning, the flames encompassing the creature, but never once touching his beloved, and not once daring to burn their master after they'd been forced to disobey him for the length of two days.

The rodent dropped twitching and smoldering and when he looked up, eyes burning and glowing from the power he'd been forced to restrain for far too long, the remaining rodents had scurried off to their holes. Fearful and skittish of the power that had been released.

“Woah...” Xiaotian's voice cut through the roar of the flames still crackling up his arms and it felt so right it hurt that he'd gone any time at all without it as it should be.

Though he still felt a weak ache in his limbs, his fire allowed to spring forth at his command once again was doing quite a lot to quell the pain, and he offered his hand to his love.

“We should leave before they come back.”

Xiaotian took his hand and stared as though he'd never seen him before.

“Is something wrong?”

“I just... I never saw you fight before I guess.” Xiaotian gripped his sluggishly bleeding shoulder. Red Son removed his thin coat again to try and treat the wound, though it was a bit challenging as they continued their trek.

Soon enough the forest was beginning to thin, and the dim light of dusk made strange shadows pass across the world. They were nearing Flower Fruit Mountain if Xiaotian's estimate was anything to go by, and hopefully that would mean they were soon to be safe-

But then came the sound of horses.

“Pull your sleeves down.” Xiaotian whispered urgently. “If thats your fiance make him think you still don't have your fire.”

Red Son cursed the fact that he hadn't thought of that first. Nonetheless he did as directed, and let Xiaotian pull him protectively behind him.

And there were horses, and warriors, and a macaque with fur black as pitch, and leading the caravan was his fiance.

“Surrender.” The prince demanded the second they got near.

“Oh, you wish to surrender to me?” Dammit Xiaotian. “Very well, I accept.”

His fiance looked vaguely amused, but only vaguely. “I give you full marks for bravery, but don't make yourself a fool.”

He'd never known the man before now, this being Red Son's first time gazing upon the prince his parents had decided to be his betrothed, and the prince's eyes on him as well.

Red Son wasn't the best at parsing out emotions, but he knew the prince had hired the Spider Queen to kill him, so he knew the thing that looked like desire in the prince's eye was nothing but bloodlust. He wanted not him, but his parents' army, and he was willing to slaughter anyone who stood between him and that goal.

“Ah, but we know the secrets of the forest! We could live there comfortably for days without you and yours finding us!” Red Son could see the blood starting to seep back out of Xiaotian's shoulder as he drew his staff again. “So if you wish for a death at the hands of the R.O.U.S packs, please be my guest and feel free to visit!”

“I tell you once again, surrender!” his betrothed stressed, and Red Son saw movement from the corner of his eye. Xiaotian couldn't turn his head from the prince, but he could see the prince had brought archers with him. Many archers. Archers whom had peeled away from the caravan before their approach.

Xiaotian was not immortal. Or maybe the Monkey King had taught him to be in the first way he had learned to be immortal for his aging to cease, but if he was he wasn't invulnerable.

“That won't be happening.” He could make a ring of fire around the both of them and spread it out to destroy any arrows that came into their path and then expand it forward to knock back their foes, But then they'd have only a small opening, and their only option would be to retreat back into the forest and hope to loose his fiance, maybe in the burrows of that large unknown creature? But that risked Xiaotian being wrong about it being some time since said creature had been there and risk the wrath of a huge underground creature likely out for blood at two tiny by comparison beings invading its home.

“For the final time, surrender!” the prince barked and with a flourish drew his sword from its sheath. The black furred macaque at his side drew a staff from his person, spiked at either end, and shot them both a wicked grin, but it was Red Son's eye he held.

The macaque took one hand away from his weapon to reach beneath his shirt, and what he pulled out made Red Son's only plan null. A fire resistance spell scribbled on a small block of wood, and another pair of those damned golden cuffs. He'd be restrained again in an instant if he couldn't even injure anyone and he'd be just as helpless as before, but this time at a heavy disadvantage with his love injured, it would only be hours before they caught up with them, if even that.

“Death first!” Xiaotian cried, holding up the staff and ready to charge-

“You have to swear you won't hurt him!” The words ripped from his lungs before he had a chance to truly consider them.

“What did you say?” The prince broke his gaze with his love and raised a brow at him.

“Red Son...?” Xiaotian's voice was so quiet, so confused...But that didn't matter. If it saved his life then he refused to regret it.

“....I'll go with you. We'll surrender and I'll let you take me back to your mountain, but you must swear you won't hurt this man.”

He'd been useless ever since he'd been kidnapped by those damned mercenaries, he'd relied on Xiaotian to survive the forest—whom had needed to get hurt before he could even gain a fighting chance at being his equal again—and now he couldn't get them out of his fiance's clutches together.

If he went back with the prince he'd be killed and his death blamed on whoever the Prince wished to destroy with his parent's army but-

-but he knew his limits.

“I swear it on all I hold dear.” His fiance responded.

“He has his own mountain to return to, you must let him return in peace.”

“It will be done.” his betrothed agreed, he turned to the macaque and murmured something to him, but all he could hope for is that this prince wasn't an oathbreaker-

-not like he'd turned out to be.

Xiaotian was staring at him, his wide dark eyes hurt and uncomprehending and it was so unfair that this was how it had to end. That he'd only had him back for such a short time before he had to choose to give him up.

But...

“When I thought you dead it nearly destroyed me.” he forced his voice to remain firm, no matter how much his heart hurt at what must be done. “I cannot survive that a second time.” and he knew he couldn't.

But he was a selfish demon after all, because despite his actions, and his willingness to give himself over to his betrothed, Red Son still desired one last fleeting moment with his love.

The kiss was soft, Xiaotian's calloused hands gripped loosely in his own and he prayed he would remember the feeling and never forget his warmth. Whether he was killed by his betrothed, fought back long enough to be kept alive and announced dead and forever kept in a basement somewhere, or yet worse live a long healthy life beside a demon king he didn't love, and never able to see Xiaotian again.

“If this is all I can do for you, then please, let me save you.” his voice was barely over a whisper, any louder and his voice would crack and wobble with emotion.

“...As you wish.”

And then there was a hand on his shoulder that was not Xiaotian's. It was cold and slick, like the scales of a reptile.

And so, leaving the keeper of his heart behind, Red Son pulled away from Xiaotian, and got on the horse offered to him.

And if there was a thin yet steady plume of steam trailing behind his steed, well... nobody bothered to say anything.

–

And Xiaotian was left standing alone as the keeper of his heart turned himself in to what was no doubt his own execution.

His sluggishly bleeding shoulder gave a thin throb of pain as a few of the prince's caravan followed Red Son and that wretched prince, but staying behind were a majority of the archers and the black furred macaque.

“Well, guess we should be getting you back to your mountain then.” The Macaque drawled, leaned back casually on his own horse and hiding his staff only now. His strangely shaped ears twitched as Xiaotian took a step forward. Wait- Not strangely shaped, there were three of them. Three on either side.

“We're men of action. Lies don't suit us.” He'd responded simply, and the Six eared macaque grinned that wolfish grin at him again. And sure enough he felt a few groping hands as a couple brave archers grabbed him and bound his hands behind his back.

“Love that staff by the way. Looks quite a lot like one an old friend of mine used to wield. But like, a crappily made cheap replica of it.” The Macaque hummed and took the staff from the ground after he'd been forced to drop it. “Way lighter too. Don't even need to have stolen anybody's powers for it!” After a beat the Macaque met his gaze, and he must have been making a bit of a face because he suddenly looked off his game. “What?”

“Six-Eared Macaque was it? I know someone who's been looking for you.” The swordsman flashed in his mind, the scar on her shoulder, the fierce determination in her eyes, that masterful, artistic swordplay. She'd had every moment of her confrontation with this macaque planned out for a decade, right down to what she would say to him.

He hoped she found out where he was and got her revenge from it. She deserved to, she seemed like the kind of person Xiaotian would have gotten along with swimmingly if they'd known eachother under better terms.

The Macaque growled and swiped out with his staff, knocking him on the side of his head.

And as his vision swam, as the world grew dark, he heard the macaque growl:

“Take him to the pit of despair, Looks like we've got a new test subject.”

He missed Red Son.

#Red Groom AU #Spicynoodleshipping #vega writes stories too #Princess Bride AU #catch me keeping outfit descriptions as vague as possible for flexibility's sake #MK Red Son #Qi Xiaotian #Six Eared Macaque

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snek-snacc-ficc · 4 years ago

Text

One Is A Genius, The Other’s Insane

Summary: Logan had seen enough of the world to know it was a horrible place, greatly in need of a competent leader. That was a job he was more than willing to fill, and so, by the age of twenty, he began his tireless work to plan the perfect scheme for world domination. Things became much more complicated, however, when Remus, his complete opposite in nearly every sense, stumbled his way into his life.

(Pssst, it's a Pinky and the Brain au)

Words: 3,177

Logan Ackeroyd couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realized the world was a horrible place. It had been more of a gradual thing really. He studied history in school and learned of all the horrors man had committed against man throughout the thousands of years of humankind's existence. Everyday he’d watch the news and see atrocities happening across the globe in real time. When he turned sixteen, he had to get a terrible job as a fast food cashier, enduring impatient, rude customers demanding cheap food that tasted like it had been chemically manufactured (and he figured it most likely was), just so one day college would be slightly more affordable. And, perhaps worst of all, when he did reach college, he was forced to listen to pretentious English professors take the likes of Sigmund Freud seriously. Listening to an old man tell a room full of his fellow peers that Hamlet wanted to copulate with his mother was the last straw, and so, by the age of twenty, Logan Ackeroyd decided that he would take over the world.

He wasn’t the absolute perfect choice for Earth’s ruler, he knew, but he also knew that he had an immense amount of intelligence, and a righteous moral code, and that put him above nearly every other world leader in his book.

Unfortunately, Logan found, working to become the world’s benevolent dictator didn’t pay well, in fact it often depleted his pocket book, and so he took up a job as a middle school science teacher by day, and would dedicate his nights to working out the perfect scheme for world domination.

It was supposed to be a secretive, solo endeavor. Involving others in his plan could get messy and chaotic, which was rather counterintuitive to his goal. Along with that, it could prove disastrous to alert others of his plans for fear it could somehow lead to interference from the authorities. It was best, he decided, to simply keep to himself with a clear mind. All of that, however, was ruined the day he met Remus.

Logan’s trip to the hardware store was meant to be quick and simple. He was working on what he thought was the verge of a breakthrough, (a prototype of a device that would allow him to brainwash the masses through the use of a high pitched sound wave), but he was missing some of the tools needed for its completion. When he turned around from the shelf he had grabbed a collection of bolts from, he was brought face to face with a man with a handlebar mustache staring at him. He was startled for a moment, but the feeling quickly gave way to annoyance.

“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past him.

“Is that blood on your sleeve?”

Logan looked down at his long sleeved polo. He hadn’t noticed the red stain on it earlier and he thought it odd that the stranger would point it out.

“I don’t believe so. There’s a stronger possibility that it’s jam.”

“You should totally lick it to find out.”

“That would be highly uncouth,” Logan deadpanned, hoping the peculiar person would soon leave.

“It could be cool. If it is blood then you’d be like a vampire.”

Logan moved towards the check out, delving into an explanation of the definition and proper pronunciation of “uncouth.” The man continued to trail behind him, apparently satisfied with his shopping trip of a cartful of spray paint, chattering on about what seemed like disconnected nonsense. By the time he was finished with his purchase, excusing himself once again to leave, Logan was relieved to no longer be burdened with the annoying distraction.

He rushed to his lab with the missing parts once he reached home, eager to begin work on the project once more. He had little time to do so though, as right as he began the door to the room swung open. Logan jumped, grabbing a screwdriver on instinct in case he had to defend himself, and spun around to see the man from the store standing before him.

“What?!- Why’re you-” he sputtered, completely flabbergasted.

“You left this at the checkout,” the man said, thrusting forward a plastic bag with a collection of wrenches in it. Logan hadn’t even realized he’d left it behind, but his attention had been split when he was checking out thanks to the other.

“So your first reaction was to stalk me and break into my house?!” Logan’s voice rose with anger and unease. “How did you even find where I live?”

“I followed your car.” The man said it like doing so was the most casual thing in the world. “I almost missed ya, but I caught up just in time. Lost you for a second at a stoplight though. And when I found you again your car was already in the driveway and you were gone. I tried knocking at the front door but you never answered, so I just walked in and heard you doing...whatever this is down here.”

Logan was silent, both confused and slightly disturbed that the man’s first solution had been breaking and entering, but he had little time to dwell on that. His cover was blown. His lab had been exposed to an outsider who would most certainly bring an end to his work. It had always been a concern of Logan’s, but he didn’t think he would be faced with it so soon. He kept his composure though, already theorizing which high security prison he might be thrown into.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose now that you know of my secret you will contact the authorities. I’d rather you do it now and get it over with. My phone is right over there if you need to use it.”

The man did not move to grab it however. He remained where he was, darting his gaze around the room.

“Why would I do that?” he asked, still taking in the surroundings.

“B-Because you know of my nefarious plans now, to take over the world.” Logan gestured to the large bulletin board on the wall labeled “Plans for World Domination,” using the same tone of voice he used when re-explaining concepts to students that had been zoned out in class.

“You’re trying to take over the world?!” the other sounded ecstatic, “Woah, how?”

That hadn’t been the reaction Logan expected at all, and he still was unsure whether it was a trap of sorts or the man in question really was this...dense seemed the best way to put it. Either way, he had little left to lose. If he was going to get arrested, at least he would finally get the chance to explain his genius plan to someone beforehand. He turned back towards the device on the work desk.

“Well if you must know, I’m working on this prototype of a device that would send out a high frequency noise to anyone within a ten thousand mile radius. Once it’s finished, I was going to hide them on numerous radio towers and implant a message within it that would brainwash everyone that heard it, allowing me to gain total control of a large number of people quite quickly and efficiently. The only problem thus far seems to be a simple yet pesky error on my part; These wires on its main control panel keep falling in the way when I try to work on it, and there's no way for me to move them all at once and simultaneously continue my work.”

“Well I can help with that Dr. Dork-enshmirtz, here.” He moved over to the control panel, lifting up the bunches of wires that hung over it. “That better?”

Logan, though still a bit stunned, dug around in the bag the man had brought over, taking out the wrench he needed to continue where he left off.

“My name is Logan,” he said, “but that is quite helpful, thank you…?”

“I’m Remus,” the other chirped eagerly.

“Thank you Remus.” As much as he loathed to admit it, it was fairly nice to have some sort of companionship. Being able to share just a bit of his idea already gave him a rush of excitement, despite the odd circumstances it had occurred under. And having someone to be an extra set of hands was an added bonus.

“Would it be possible for you to further offer your assistance to me?”

“Sure thing Nerdy Wolverine, as long as I get Australia privileges when you brainwash everyone. I’m gonna make a spider army.”

The plan fell through in the end (Logan hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to travel the globe, climbing thousands of radio towers), but from that moment on Logan had Remus as his partner in justifiable crime.

---

"Heeeyyy Logie, what are we gonna do tonight?"

Logan rubbed his temples. For ninety-five nights in a row Remus had asked this same question, and every single night Logan's response was the same.

"The same thing we do every night Remus, try to take over the world."

"Ooo neat! What are we gonna do this time? More sabotaging jam companies?"

"No Remus," Logan sighed, "after last night's disaster we're lucky we aren't on some government watch list." He was most disappointed that out of all of his plans that one fell through. Creating a utopia where only Crofter's jam was consumed would have been a dream come true. But alas, he had to move on.

"Truth be told I am rather stumped as to what our next approach should be, but I'm sure with some copious amounts of effort I will come up with another brilliant idea."

"Why don't you take the night off Brainiac?" Remus asked.

"Take the night off?" Logan scoffed, "When the world still remains in the clutches of corrupt, incompetent leaders? Never. Besides, what would I do if not plot to take over the world?"

"You could take a nap," Remus suggested, "You've got circles under your eyes so dark you could pass for a MySpace profile picture."

"While I appreciate the concern, my friend, I am quite fine. Though my sleep schedule is a bit off of an average rhythm, rest assured I have calculated a routine that keeps me functioning regularly. Though, given that you sleep a full 9 hours each day I doubt a set sleeping pattern can do much to create normal behavior." Logan muttered the last bit watching Remus grind his nails against his teeth like they were a nail-filer.

Remus halted his movement, inspecting his hand with one eye closed as he spoke. "Well then we could do something fun. We could watch this one documentary I want to see about this religious cult that made all it's followers fuck each other on a bridge and then jump off," he let out a cackled laugh, "Crazy how all that religious stuff can control people like that."

Logan scrunched his nose. "Remus, I ask that you keep your disgusting documentary drivel to yourse-" He paused for a moment, the last thing Remus said sinking in.

"Remus, what did you just say?"

"It's crazy how all the religious junk can control people," Remus repeated, "that's partially why I gave up organized religion, in fact…"

He trailed off but Logan wasn't listening, the gears in his head turning, formulating a new idea.

"Remus," he exclaimed, eyes lit up as he cut the other off without realizing it, "are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"Hm, well I think so Logie," Remus said, "but I'm actually allergic to synthetic body glitter."

Logan grit his teeth, face falling.

"You would make for wonderful evidence to prove it's possible to de-evolve, Remus. No, I was referring to the idea of preying on the population through the use of religion. If I were to somehow convince the masses that I were a god I would have the world tied around my finger; They would do anything I commanded."

"Woah, you'd be a much better god than Sky Daddy Logan," Remus said, "but how are you going to get that many people to trust you?"

"From what I've observed, most people seem to distrust claims of the supernatural due to a lack of perceivable, verified evidence," Logan said. "If I could find a way to create some sort of projection of myself to a large number of people all at once, it might be enough to convince them that I am a deity. And right here in America would be the perfect starting point, because most people here are rather gullible and severely lacking in critical thinking skills."

Remus clapped his hands together.

"Yay! We're gonna start a nerd cult!"

---

Tireless nights were spent working to bring the plan to fruition. Logan had to work out exactly how he could create a convincing projection of himself, as well as find a power source with enough energy to fuel it. After weeks of building, planning, and re-working the contraption was finally finished and ready to be put to use.

It was about half past ten o'clock when Remus and Logan headed out to the nearby electrical company. Its small amount of security and large source of power made it the ideal location to put his plan into motion. When they arrived and had successfully snuck through the wired fence, Logan turned to Remus.

"Here," he said, handing him a thick metal pole he had under his arm, "you use this to knock out the security guards while I hack into the security system and cameras. Try and meet me in 15 minutes."

Remus gave a two-fingered salute.

"You got it Dorkenshmirtz."

Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname, but couldn't truly be annoyed by it. So far everything was going perfectly according to plan. Logan even found himself grinning as he made quick work of disabling the security, the flow of adrenaline making him nearly burst with excitement. Once the system was completely down, he turned tail to head to the main center. He unzipped the bag he was carrying, carefully taking out the disk-like platform he would use for the projection, and untangling the series of wires and cords to put together. To his dismay, he found that the last cord was slightly bent, most likely from being shuffled around in the bag on the trip over, and wouldn't properly plug in to the outlet without hands on assistance. The concern was quickly diminished though. Remus would be able to hold it in place while he was on the platform. Just as the thought crossed his mind the door swung open and Remus stepped in. His hair was slightly more astray than usual and a noticeable bruise was forming around his jaw, but he was smiling madly, chipper as ever.

"Did you take all of the guards out?" Logan asked.

"Yup, I bonked 'em!" Remus said, proudly. "A few of them put up a fight but I went like this," he swung the pole through the air, "BONK!"

Logan couldn't help the amused quirk of his lips.

"Wonderful," he said, making his way towards the platform, "Everything has been put into place, except the cord over there. I need you to hold it into the outlet for this to work. Do not let go."

Remus nodded.

"Amen Sky Daddy!"

He plugged the cord in, keeping it upright and steady. Almost immediately the platform lit up with a surge of power. Logan walked towards it, nearly trembling. Finally after years of work, trying and failing and trying again, he was going to succeed. The world would finally be his to craft to his perfect, peaceful vision.

Once it was completely charged up Logan took his step onto the platform. Outside an enlarged image of himself filled the sky for miles. He cleared his throat, preparing his speech for the people, when suddenly his moment was interrupted by the sound of Remus cursing to himself as softly as he could manage. His head whipped around and to his horror he saw sparks of electricity flying from the place where the cord met the outlet, sending repeated shocks through Remus, who was struggling through the pain to keep the cord plugged in.

Remus looked to Logan, seeing him hesitate.

"Go on," he whispered, though his voice was strangled with discomfort, "I'm fine."

Logan turned back around once more, but got no further in his speech as he caught the sparks growing larger out of the corner of his eye.

Time seemed to freeze for Logan, his head was spinning, torn between the task at hand and Remus' pained whimpers.

He'll be fine.

He'll get electrocuted and die.

It's one person vs the future of the rest of the world. This is what I've worked towards for years, and I'm going to blow it.

But he's helped so much.

Stupid, loyal Remus with his constant screw ups, and dumb jokes, and annoying nicknames, and laughter and chatter that always rang through the house, that filled a void I didn't even notice was there before, and-

Remus cried out, his body completely jolting with an electric shock, but still he forced himself to keep hold of the cord.

"Remus let go!" Logan shouted.

"N-no, y-you-" Remus couldn't get out another word before another strong shock struck him. The surrounding wires and cords were jumping with sparks as well, and Logan caught sight of a fire starting at the floor where Remus sat slumped weakly against the wall.

"Remus!"

Without thinking twice Logan bolted from the platform, heaving Remus into his arms just as the flames began to grow and approach his body. He rushed out of the building, lungs burning from the toxic fumes of smoke that filled the air, but he didn’t slow his pace until they reached the car, the sound of sirens already blaring in the distance.

The drive home almost certainly broke the speed limit, but Logan cared little about that, glancing at Remus, unconscious but miraculously breathing, every few seconds until they reached home.

---

It was evening two days later when Remus finally awoke. He groaned, blinking his eyes open. Just as he came to, Logan walked into the room, rushing over to the bedside.

"So Logan,” Remus said, flashing a dopey smile up at him, “what do you want to do tonight?"

Logan threw his arms around Remus' neck, the position awkward due to him being sprawled out on the bed, but neither paid any mind to it. Tears leaked out of Logan's eyes, that he tried to hold back.

"I think," he said, sniffling, "that you can choose what we do tonight Remus."

Soon after, the two were curled up on the couch, Remus' head resting on Logan's thighs. Logan sipped hot chocolate from his #1 DICK-tator mug, a Christmas gift from Remus, carding his fingers through the other's hair as a true crime documentary played on the T.V. Maybe, he thought, world domination could wait a bit when he had his whole world lying right in his lap.

---

Ah! I’m so glad I finally finished this! Think of it as my own little celebratory work to welcome in the new Animaniacs reboot.

Taglist: @bullet-tothefeels

#sanders sides #intrulogical #logan sanders #remus sanders #intrulogical pinky and the brain au #slight angst

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kyberphilosopher · 4 years ago

Text

Atonement

Requested: yes.

Word Count: 4193 Cal must deal with the consequences of his comrades deception and injuries, while they must deal with what this means for their relationship.

Atonement is the concept of a person taking action to correct previous wrongdoing on their part, either through direct action to undo the consequences of that act, equivalent action to do good for others, or some other expression of feelings of remorse.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Once upon a time, Anakin wasn’t all bad. But maybe that was why he died. After that, there wouldn’t have been competition for someone that was all bad, or at least somewhat worse than Anakin was alone.

Not that Anakin was a complete and utter angel. You knew, not better than anyone but still enough, that Anakin wasn’t all good either. And sure, most people aren’t, but your Master wasn’t most people. Far more talented and powerful was he than the other Jedi Knights, but far more unhinged was he who could not control himself. Anakin was the latter.

The other Jedi seemed to pity you. It wasn’t as if Anakin Skywalker was always inherently kind on you. You weren’t funny like Ahsoka, or respectable like Obi-Wan. In fact, Anakin had a suspicion that there was something inside of you that reminded him of his mother. Thus, he was cold. And he rarely bothered to teach in the way that people deserved to be taught.

He doesn’t like me, you remember thinking. He never will.

You had been the perfect padawan. You were certain you had done everything right. And yet, Anakin’s stare was icy, when he bothered to look your way at all. Where had your Master gone after the Purge anyway?

Your eyes open slowly.

Light peels across your vision, smeared from the art of being tired. Once your lids are widened, the back of your right hand lays across your forehead lazily. You had been dreaming, hadn’t you? But what had it been about? And why did it seem so hard to remember?

Maybe it was about your Master again, you realize as you exhale. No- ex Master now. But maybe it had been about him. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

You’re a Clone Killer.

Eyebrows crease with a twitch. You’ve laid in bed with too much comfort now. It’s time to get up. Stars, but the bed is warm and your legs are tangled in your comforter just right. When’s the next time you’ll get to feel this relaxed and sleepy?

Must’ve been the worst Padawan in history.

“Shit,” you whisper with closed eyes. Yes, now you’re more than certain that it’s time to get up. Comfort doesn’t matter today.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The restroom door hisses to a close behind you. Rubbing the back of your neck, you begin your sluggish march to the ships deck. You can already smell Greez’s cooking wafting from around the corner. What is that? Sausage and... is that eggs?

Your pants scuff against each other, sweatshirt twisting with the reach of your arm. As the floor transitions from metal to stiff rug, you pull your chair out.

“Ah, good morning sleepyhead,” you hear Greez’s voice call out to you. Your eyes remain sleepy, gazing down at the table. Doesn’t even look present, Cal observes as his eyes flick over your face.

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sun today,” Dritus continues from the stove. One of his four hands flick the pan over the stove up with an explosive sizzle. “Be careful you don’t make me feel bad, so I don’t feel inclined to give you more of my food.”

“I slept in too late,” you mutter, half to yourself.

At the other side of the table, Cal’s stocky form is hunched over. One of his hands is wrapped around a cup on the table, which is covered in cold perspiration. Soft ginger hair falls back as he looks over you. You could feel his pretty, kaleidoscope eyes from the other side of the universe. He doesn’t say anything, though, and you’re too tired to play the “What’s He Thinking About?” game right now.

“You’re damn right you did,” the Latero says. “Cal here was just about to go and check in on you.”

You swallow quickly, glancing up at the man parallel to you. Cal is looking over at Greez, given you a clear view of his jaw and the scar that stretches over his neck. He’s beautiful. He always has been. You can feel your ears start to burn, and you look away almost immediately.

“Thanks,” you say instead, finally pulling your hand away from your neck. Without even realizing it, your intelligent orbs look to Cal again. This time, however, your eyes meet. Electric pulses run through you, tickling from your neck to your pelvis. And, true to your nature, you brake gazes immediately. “I think I’ll skip out on breakfast today.”

“Seriously?” Greez whirls around, dumbfounded. “But... breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”

That’s true. Ever since you gained the privilege of having Greez Dritus the wanted Latero to cook for you, breakfast had been far more likeable. He always knows how to add the perfect amount of spice and flavor without coming off as overbearing. But there’s something in the back of your throat, crawling up to the tip of your tongue. A name of an old master, and the dream that you can’t remember.

“I’m just not hungry,” you push yourself out of your stool and slide it back under the table. Cal watches your form jog down the steps and disappear into the cockpit, his lips parted and near pulling into a frown.

“Wonder what her problem is,” Greez’s raspy voice calls into the air.

“Let her be,” a mature female voice breaks as it rounds the corner. Cere emerges from the hallway by the stares, her watchful eyes also glued on the cockpit archway. “She’ll come around.”

Will you? Cal wonders. You’ve always been a bit tight lipped in the grand scheme of things, but today the anguish is peeling off of you like steam. You seem pale in the way that conveys sickness. The dark circles under your eyes are wise, but tired. Maybe you’re just ill.

It’s not that far off. As you flip switches around on the console pointlessly, all you have to think about are these hands that disappointed your Master. Calloused, rough fingers. Raw palms from holding your saber. Clever, but never enough.

You exhale through your nose, your shoulders sinking.

Oh, that’s right. That’s what happened to your Master.

How could you have forgotten that?

“Rough night?”

You perk up at the sound of his voice, but don’t turn around. It’s not that you don’t want to look at Cal, it’s that you feel to ashamed of yourself to even try it. You don’t deserve to look upon him.

“Just feeling sick,” you mutter so hoarse he can barely hear.

“Is that the truth?”

Your eyes widen stiffly. One heel at a time, your feet turn around until you are facing your companion.

Time slows as you look at Cal. His soft orange hair billows in the air conditioning, kaleidoscope eyes twinkling with wonder. The freckles, the jaw, the chapped pink lips. He is beautiful. The way he looks at you now makes you feel guiltier than usual.

Why don’t you just tell him? Tell him you know the person who’s responsible for that scar on his stomach. Tell him you were trained by him. Tell him about your nightmare last night, how you woke up in cold sweats. But you can’t. You just can’t.

“Yeah,” you say hoarsely, eyes glued to his.

Cal steps forward suddenly, almost losing his balance. His soft, pink lips come dangerously close to yours. You can smell his scent, turning your jaw to meet him instinctively. But it was just an accident.

He steps away to regain his balance. The only sound in the room is that of the air vents.

He wasn’t going to kiss you.

Cal stays still, firm. “I hope you feel better,” he says in the same tone as before, though far more sincere.

And he turns away and walks out of the room, leaving you alone with only the air to comfort you.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The leaves crunch under boots as they do. Twigs snap, pebbles crumble. Dirt scuffs against each shoe.

Above you, the Kashyyyk trees whisper in the wind, allowing pools of sunlight to fall in between the loose spaces of green. The breeze tickles at the skin on your arms. It’s a nice day. But this is still not enough to improve the sick feeling in your stomach.

Maybe you really were just a failure of a padawan after all.

“Hey,” the boy beside you calls. “Look up there.”

You raise your head, squinting through the thin, rainbow rays of sun. Up ahead of you, over a steep drop that could be anything from a river to an abyss, is a great mechanical building. It’s sleek and gray, standing out against the natural beauty. This itself is enough proof of Imperial presence.

“I thought they would’ve left by now,” you mutter, slightly in awe. Birds fly over the fort as if it didn’t bother them for a second, and the waterfall nearby doesn’t cease its babbling. “Why haven’t they left by now?”

“Only one way to find out,” Cal tells you after some seconds of silence.

Something rushes through the air then- a gust of wind that only you seem to feel. It’s haunting and low, like it has it’s own voice or musical theme of doom. It’s almost impossible to tell whether it’s a warning, a promise, or some kind of mockery, but it feels dark. More importantly, it feels like a message. But Cal doesn’t move a muscle. Only his orange locks billow in time with his lashes, which close slowly.

“Wait,” you break the quiet. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

The boys eyes are furrowed when his head turns to you. His pale green eyes flash briefly in the sunlight, but the twinkle of confusion and curiosity remain after the flash disappears. “Why not?”

The rush of wind slows until you can barely feel it anymore. The words are on the tip of your dried up tongue, but you’re not even sure what they are. What can you say to explain your... your fear? It’s more than just intuition or a gut feeling. It’s something you know for a fact, and you have the evidence, but you can’t even hold it.

“It’s dangerous,” you decide, your bottom lip shaking too quick to notice. You say it almost casually, almost as if it were obvious. And of course, it is. Thus the flaw in your attempt.

“Most things are,” Cal replies.

Just then, the pitter pattering of little metal feet tap against the dirt and mulch comes to life. It completely cuts away what little presence the ominous air had left, only allowing BD-1′s happy little whirs to clearly ring through.

Cal’s hands rest on his hips as he turns his head to look at his partner. He squats to the ground with his little calm smile. “Would it make you feel better if I sent BD to scout ahead?”

It wouldn’t at all. All you can think about instead is your little scrapped friend getting his sliced clean off with a long, red blade. Cal wouldn’t even be able to fix him.

“BD, go on ahead,” Cal tells the machine. He scratches along BD’s head for encouragement, and the creature doesn’t even seemed miffed before hopping off into the leaves and trees until he’s completely out of sight.

“I don’t- I don’t think-” your hands ball to fists at your sides. A lump forms in your throat like an invisible bubble, or a heavy ball clogging your airway.

“Y/N?” Cal’s brows furrow once more as he twists and stands again. “You look pale.”

Another wave of wind flows through. It’s the same as before- cold, threatening, filled with something angry and sad and warning you to never have to feel it for real. However, your partner feels it this time too.

His eyes leave yours and drop to the ground behind him as he twists in concern, looking around for whatever could be the cause. Subconsciously, his right hand lifts from his side to the right side of his ribs. Your eyes widen in understanding, but you wish so badly it was anything but that.

“Do you feel that?” Cal calls out to you, still trying to locate the presence that doesn’t even exist.

Yes, you think as you watch the boys other hand slip over his saber. I feel it.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Anakin wasn’t always evil. Whether or not he’s even evil now is up for debate. But for as long as you knew him, in your eyes at least, he was your hero. Not because he helped you, which he didn’t, or because he wanted the best for you, which he didn’t care about. But because he was strong, and someone to look up to. He’s the knight in shining armor that every little boy wants to be like when they grow up, and the warrior every feminist wants to be equal to. Anakin Skywalker was, by all means, a dream.

So then why is this the worst you’ve ever felt?

“Master?” your voice wheezes out. There’s a storm all around you, a personal tornado for the three of you that makes everything but roaring hard to hear. Rapid blinking helps to keep the dust from your eyes every few seconds, but not enough. It’s starting to sting.

“Stop,” you hear another voice say, but it’s muffled with chokes. “Stop...”

This isn’t Anakin. This is a man of metal- obsidian and iron and cooled magma. There’s not a single inch of flesh showing. The cape, whipping wildly in the wind, is the closest thing to organic. It’s tattered, and the wind gives the illusion of it bleeding away like inky smoke.

“Join me,” False Anakin calls. His fist clenched with determination, a red glow brightening up the area. “Serve your master.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

And from Cal’s position, you just look plain pretty. Kind of distraught, with faded eyes and slightly knitted brows paired with a frown. Your hair is sort of billowing in time with the storm around you, along side that weapon on your belt. Really, you look sad.

Cal’s fingers dig into the dirt and sand beneath his body. His whole form feels like it’s going to rip away into dust, like Vader doesn’t want him there. And of course, he doesn’t. He hasn’t even given Cal a glance. That being said, his whole stomach feels entirely enflamed. Especially that one special place where he’d felt Vader’s touch before. Now Cal knows that you must’ve been touched by him as well. It’s the worst feeling in the world.

“Don’t,” he chokes. Cal gets a mouthful of dirt in the process, but he doesn’t even register it. “Y/N-”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

“-will come back from this.”

Your eyes open. They feel stiff and dry, like how you imagine a mummy’s would. The light over head is blinding and white, with flecks of rainbow bouncing off it at the sharper edges. You do not react in any way.

Internal bleeding of the stomach, one impalement scar on your right side. There is a long, long series of blisters and torn skin across your shoulder from being tossed and dragged across the ground. Then there’s the slit over your left eye which makes it impossible to open. You might as well have lost it.

Some people would’ve been happy to just be alive. Fighting Darth Vader? Fighting Anakin Skywalker? And surviving it? Well, not everyone gets that privilege. But for some reason the appreciation isn’t coming to you. Maybe you should’ve died back then as some kind of last apology.

“I know they will.”

You hear footsteps from beyond the doorway become more and more faint, until you can’t even hear them at all. The metal door hisses open. There’s a few footsteps against the floor, then a sharp pause.

Your head rolls to your right lazily. A young man stands before you. A cute redhead with a broad chest and wide, shocked pale green eyes. Underneath them are mauve rings- dark circles and bags- and chapped pink lips.

Cal opens his mouth to speak, and then spins around. With the flick of your wounded fingers, the entrance to the room closes and seals itself shut with a click. The cute redhead is still, his back away from you.

Maybe because of the loss of some other senses, your Jedi one’s have heightened. The intuition inside of you is reading his color- his entire aura- something you could’ve sworn you weren’t able to do before. There’s so much anxiety from him. Enough to make up from the lack of anxiety you have right about now.

“You’re awake,” he speaks. You can sense his voice about to crack. “I should tell the others.”

“Don’t be stupid, Cal,” your raspy voice croaks. “Don’t be fucking stupid.”

He turns around to look at you, one foot at a time. His eyes are downturned tiredly, but mostly from sadness. The corners of his lips are annoyed from your words. “You’ve been asleep for two weeks,” Cal says. “Didn’t know if you were coming back.”

You don’t say anything.

His use of the words ‘coming back’ sting. Just two simple words, which to you feel like they mean something far more deep and sinister. Almost as sinister as yourself.

“Are you okay?” he proceeds to question, though you both know it’s just out of politeness.

“I can’t see out of my eye.”

“Do you know why?”

You don’t move. You’re quiet yet again.

Cal’s voice raises frustratingly. “Do you know why? You let someone put a lightsaber to your face just so you could smash in their helmet!”

“I don’t remember that.”

“He stabbed you in your stomach!”

Cal’s never raised his voice at you before. You wish you were more upset about it. His tone alone is enough to make a sinking weight appear in the pit of your stomach. But you can’t cry. You can barely feel anything but both relief and emptiness. Not once in those two weeks did you dream about either Anakin, or Vader.

“I watched him pick you up and slam you on the ground! I watched you die about a million times out there!”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” you mutter hoarsely. And you mean that, too.

“I thought that...”

Don’t. Don’t tell him.

“I thought that I was going to hurt you.”

Silence fills the room from corner to corner. Even whatever air that once came from the vents has come to a complete halt. Maybe every system in the galaxy has stopped its turn.

“What?” Cal asks, now much softer. He takes a gentle step towards you, his eyes desperately locked to your own.

You glance down before back to him. “I was his apprentice before the purge. Don’t ask Cere about it- he never talked about me. I doubt there was even paperwork to confirm it. I thought this was coming but... I wasn’t sure.”

Cal takes another step forward.

“He never liked me. And then on Kashyyyk... he...” You swallow down the shame for a moment. “He told me he wanted me to be his apprentice again. For real this time.”

“So you fought him,” Cal partially pieces together.

You swallow again and look down to your hands.

“Cal, I fought him because I wanted to go with him. I saw my- I saw the future he was talking about. It was good for me. I was happy... sort of.”

He’s finally close enough to sit on the end of the bench that you didn’t even process lying on. There’s concern in his eyes as he listens, and he doesn’t dare take them off your face. It makes you feel like even more of a coward.

“But I didn’t see you there, too. I didn’t see anyone there. I thought maybe I... I thought maybe I had killed you.”

Cal opens his parched lips slightly, and then closes them.

“And I really don’t want to kill you.”

Cal looks away. From here, sitting up slightly so you didn’t choke in your sleep, you can make out freckles on his neck. They stretch over his tendons, across his jawline. They’ll no doubt stretch over that scar from his jaw down on the other side. His long lashes move as he blinks. His hair looks softer than ever.

“After the battle I carried you away. After it was done you just... looked at me. And then you collapsed, and I had to carry you.”

Silence.

Cal gets up.

“Cal?” you call, louder than you meant.

The boy turns back to look at you.

“I...”

Is he prettier than before?

“Do you hate me?”

Cal creases his brows.

“Do you... are you going to talk to me again?”

He opens his mouth, but you don’t let him speak.

“Don’t say it, if you don’t mean it. I was trained by the most dangerous person in the galaxy. By your biggest enemy. I... lied to you about it. I almost killed you, Cal. You can hate me.”

“Do you think I hate you?”

Your eye squints, and finally it glosses over as it wells with tears. “Yeah.”

Cal Kestis. Man of your dreams. Hero of everything. Angel of infinity. Please, don’t hate me. You have every right to, I know. But please- please don’t.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” he finally whispers, looking down at the floor. “Maybe you should’ve told me, but... I think deep down I already knew.”

A questioning look appears over your features, but Cal answers before you can ask. “You’d been acting off for weeks, Y/N. Those nightmares were about Vader, weren’t they.”

“Yeah. They were... Do you... think of me any differently?”

Please.

“...No. I don’t know if I could ever do that to you.”

“I couldn’t think of you differently either,” you say after a moment. You throat is getting scratchy, but it’s hard to care.

“I care about you, Y/N,” he tells you, sincere but calm. “You know that don’t you?”

“You wouldn’t have carried me if you didn’t care, Cal.”

“Y/N on the morning of this whole thing I wanted to kiss you,” he snaps, his hands limply swinging with urgency. “I should’ve kissed you.”

So many emotions in one conversation.

“You can still kiss me now that I’m clean with you.”

Cal looks at you for a long time, his tired, bright eyes searching for something in your stillness. Then he looks down.

“It’s okay, Cal. It’s part of my atonement.”

He looks at you for a long time again. The corner of his lips twitch upwards for just a second. It puts you at ease somewhat, with a warm feeling spreading in your stomach finally.

“You’ve got nothing to atone for,” Cal says. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/N.”

You have nothing to say. No words come to your dry tongue, although your lips hang open like something will come out. Nothing does. You just look at your redhead, who’s tired and distraught, but has more clarity and love than he ever has in his entire life. He won’t raise his voice to you again.

Your palm dances again as you look to away. The door finally opens again, and Cal forgot that you had initially even caged him in here.

“You can go now.”

It’s quiet. You can hear shuffling, slow footsteps like maybe he doesn’t want to leave. “Can I kiss you when I get back?”

Even while looking at the wall right next to you, your face goes hot and pink.

“Maybe,” your husky voice answers. And when you turn to look back at him, he’s already looking at you with a genuine smile like a little boy getting a big present that they can’t believe. That’s how he sees it, anyway.

“I don’t hate you, Y/N,” he suddenly says. “I could never hate you.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Idk if I’m happy with this or not? I ran into a bunch of writers block with this I don’t know why. Sorry it took so long to put out anyway. I also might change it to better fit the request because that’s really the most important thing to me and with finishing it after literal months I might’ve lost sight of the whole point. Idk though. Cal is a cutie.

TAGLIST: @omg-we-really-doo @chokemeanakin @anakinswhore @haztory @fanficsforheartandsoul @kit-jpg @ahsokatano-thetogruta

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bearlee-giggling · 4 years ago

Text

giggle marks

guess who's finally gotten around to writing something 😎 this bitch

series: steven universe future (post bismuth casual)

ship: connverse

warnings: cursing, body insecurity

taglist: it's literally just @lizzienaut lmao

---

It was a surprisingly nice day in Beach City. Temperatures in the mid 70s, mostly sunny, and according to Steven and Connie, a perfect beach day. Granted, pretty much any day is a beach day when you literally live on the beach, which Pearl immediately pointed out to them.

"Pearl that's not the point!" Steven said, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "We never have nice weather like this before June, let alone in April!"

"Yeah!" Connie threw her arm around her boyfriend's shoulders. "Plus, you could come with us and bring Bismuth." Connie and Steven grinned at each other.

"Oh all right. but you two need to go find her at Little Homeworld" Before Pearl had even finished speaking, Steven and Connie had already rushed over to the warp pad. Pearl couldn't help but smile fondly at the two.

It took a shockingly small amount of time for Steven and Connie to return to the temple with Bismuth. Connie and Steven had also already changed into their bathing suits as well, Connie's underneath a pair of shorts and Steven's swim trunks paired with a plain t-shirt.

"Well I see you two are ready-" Pearl once again was interrupted by the giddy teenagers running through the room and out the front door.

"Young love," Bismuth laughed. Pearl smiled too. "Well, P, we better get out there before they start having fun without us!" And with that, Bismuth scooped Pearl up in one arm and ran out to catch up with them.

Steven and Connie were already seated right along the shore, each building their own sandcastle as they tried to out-do the other. Steven grinned and nudged Connie as Bismuth ran down the stairs with Pearl nearly tossed over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Pearl! Bismuth!" Steven called out as he and Connie ran to greet them. "Where are your swimming suits?"

"Steven, you know that all gems are water resistant. We have no need for special garments to keep us from getting wet."

"Oh come ON, Pearl," Bismuth said with mock frustration. "Have a little fun!" Bismuth snapped her fingers, and her usual clothing transformed into a pair of board shorts and a tank top.

Pearl looked at Bismuth in her new attire, feeling her cheeks flush. "Oh fine." Pearl snapped her fingers and, like Bismuth, her typical clothing transformed into an elegant looking one-piece bathing suit with cutouts on the sides.

Steven and Connie looked at each other, grinning, as they removed the extra clothing over their own bathing suits. "Hey Pearl!" Connie called out. "Can you take a picture of us?"

Pearl nodded as she approached the two kids. Connie handed Pearl her phone and stood next to Steven as they put their arms around each other and smiled for the camera. Pearl looked as though she was about to say something, but Bismuth was calling her back to their little beach spot. Pearl just smiled and handed the phone back to Connie as she walked back to Bismuth.

Steven grinned and turned to face Connie. "Lemme see!" Connie handed him the phone to look at the picture. He smiled broadly as he looked at their picture perfect smiles, but then frowned as he looked at it more closely. "Connie? Is there something wrong with your phone? It looks like your screen is scratched."

Connie looked over Steven's shoulder at the picture and immediately knew what Steven was talking about. "Ohhh, no those are just stretch marks, Steven. Don't worry, they're completely normal."

Steven turned pink with concern. "Stretch marks?? What is that?"

"They basically form when your body grows faster than your skin, so your skin has to stretch along with it. A lot of people have them. I had them on my legs during my growth spurt too."

"But I don't grow taller like humans do, i just shape shift into an older form! How did i get these?"

Connie bit her lip, trying to find a way to put what she was about to say as nicely as possible. "Sometimes people... get stretch marks, especially on their stomach like you, if they've been gaining weight."

Steven, now completely pink, sprinted back towards the temple, up the stairs and through the door. Pearl and Bismuth had taken notice to what was going on, and they both looked concerned.

"Connie, is everything alright?" Pearl asked with a nervous edge to her voice. Bismuth stood next to Pearl an arm around her shoulder, looking just as worried.

"Everything is fine. Just... give us a few minutes." And with that, Connie turned to go after Steven.

Connie pushed open the door to the little beach house. "Steven? I didn't mean to-"

"Go away, Connie." He sounded so genuinely upset. Connie's heart shattered.

"Steven, I'm coming upstairs," Connie announced as she approached Steven's loft space. "Please talk to me."

Steven was sitting on the side of his bed with a blanket over his back and shoulders. He was staring down at his stomach, and Connie noticed he was crying. "I'm just-" Steven began to speak but was interrupted by one of his sobs. Connie felt awful.

"Steven, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you"

"No, no, it's not your fault," Steven reassured her, wiping some of the tears away from his eyes. "I'm just not used to it, that's all."

"Not used to the stretch marks?" Connie asked, a little confused.

"No, not just that. I'm not used to feeling so upset by the way I look."

"Oh Steven, it's okay to feel insecure. But I can assure you that stretch marks are completely normal. Plus now it looks like you have tiger stripes! Maybe you should go talk to Amethyst about bringing back Purple Puma and Tiger Millionare-"

Steven chuckled at that, starting to feel a little bit better. "I'm afraid my glory days are far behind me," he said with an exasperated sigh, dramatically falling backward onto his bed with a small "oofe".

Connie smiled and sat down next to him, placing her hand on top of his. "Are you feeling a little better?"

"Mmm sort of? I dunno, I guess I feel better knowing that they're normal, but I'm still worried about what other people will think of them."

"That's okay, Steven." Connie placed her hand onto Steven's stomach. "If you want to keep them covered up, that's completely your choice."

Steven let out a content sigh before he suddenly began giggling softly. "Connieeeeee," Steven whined.

"What's wrong, Steven?"

"You're tickling meeeee..."

Connie looked down at her hand, noticing how she had been tracing Steven's stretch marks with her fingers. "Oh! I guess I hadn't even realized. I'll stop if you want. But if you feel like you wanna laugh, then I can keep going."

This was a little routine they had. Whenever Steven was upset about something, as he began to calm down, Connie liked to make him laugh. Of course, knowing the important concept of consent, she always asked if it was okay. And nearly every time, Steven said yes.

"You can um... keep going if you want..." Despite how often Steven said it, he could never get the words out without blushing bright red. Connie thought it was cute.

"Of course, Steven. Any preferences?"

"Not really, just... kinda do whatever."

"Tell me when you've had enough, okay? Promise?"

"I promise, Connie."

"Good! Now let's see..." Connie was now kneeling on top of Steven's bed so she could easily use both hands. She began tracing Steven's stretch marks on both sides of his stomach. His left side was always more sensitive than his right, but Steven was the most sensitive right around his gem.

Connie always took extra care to notice which areas caused Steven's breath to hitch or turn his laughter frantic. She was overjoyed at the discovery of a new spot, about half way between his gem and his hip, on his left side. It was right where one of his stretch marks tapered off into his normal skin. Connie grinned and scratched at the spot with her fingernail. Steven's laughter rose a pitch.

"Connihihihie!"

"Yes, Steven?"

Steven didn't actually have anything to say, so he just shook his head and closed his eyes as he continued to laugh. Connie milked that spot for a moment longer before continuing her hunt for Steven's jackpot spots.

After a while of trying, occasionally going back to that one area between his left hip and gem, Connie just went back to tracing Steven's stretch marks.

Much to Connie's surprise, Steven started laughing even louder as she did this. With Steven's senses being heightened, it made sense that he was quite a bit more sensitive now than he had been at the beginning.

"Wow, Steven, I was going back to tracing your stretch marks assuming it would bring you back down to relax for a second, but this is the hardest I've seen you laugh in a while! Maybe we should start calling these your 'giggle marks'!"

Steven blushed red at the comment, continuing to cackle as Connie's fingers got closer and closer to his gem.

Connie, however, could tell that Steven was getting tired and decided to stop just before reaching the stone.

Steven looked up at Connie as she stopped, still giggling. "You're going to stop before the gem?" He seemed genuinely confused and honestly a little upset.

Connie smiled fondly. "Were you expecting a grand finale?"

"Well... yeah, kind of? I mean, that's always how you finish."

Connie chuckled. "Well if you insist..."

Steven felt his whole body tense as Connie leaned over and positioned her head over Steven's gem. Connie looked to him for permission, and as he nodded, she blew a huge raspberry right on top of his gem.

Steven all but screamed. "CONNIHIHIEHEHAHAHAH-" Steven was laughing at full volume for a full five seconds after Connie had finished. She looked down at him, happy to see that huge smile plastered across his face.

"Feeling better now?"

"Mhmmm," Steven hummed contentedly, still coming down from his giggle high. "But 'm tired now. Can we just snuggle?"

Connie smiled. "Of course. Let me go tell Pearl and Bis that everything is alright." Connie planted a kiss on Steven's nose, making him giggle and scrunch up his face. And as Connie went downstairs, Steven couldn't help but feel he was the luckiest boy in the world to have such an amazing partner.

#steven universe tickles #lee!steven #ler!connie #su tickle fic #tickle fic #su tickles

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theonlygamergost · 4 years ago

Text

Friendship disguised as rivalry - Seaside!au

It isn’t Gost if she doesn’t think about something and the writes about it, so here I am, making an au and writing a fanfic about it.

I haven’t written in a while and this was beta-read by me, so sorry for any errors.

Seaside!Dspm au is a fanmade au by me where the members work at a sea housebath called, “Seaside”, here is the original concept, might wanna read it for context.

~~~~~~~

Dream accidentally says that ‘He’s better than Techno’, so they hold a Sky surf race to see if he’s right.

~~~~~~~

Warning! This contains swearing!

Enjoy~

It had been a windy day, no doubt, the sky had been coloured by the plastic Sky surf kites floating around, sometimes it blew Wilbur’s mind that at the end of each one, there was a person, surfing away. The sunset could be admired perfectly from the counter of the bar, and because they were so close to closing time, he had time to admire it slowly, “I’m happy Dream’s and Sapnap’s course is going well” Ranboo approached the counter and left off a tray with dirty glasses, Wilbur hummed in reply. The younger boy, leaned on the counter himself and had to cover his eyes from the blinding light, “Niki came by and told me they had to call Tommy and Karl to help because of how many people there were”. The musician sighed and stretched before placing what Ranboo had brought inside the dishwasher, “They got lucky that there was a lot of wind today, perfect to launch off the activity” a little breeze passed right at that moment, both of the boys smiled at the timing.

A ring of a bell snapped Ranboo out of his thoughts, “Whoops, that's for me!” and hurried to the kitchen. Just as he left, Wilbur realized that loud laughter was coming his way, and when he turned to see who it was, he was welcomed by the “Dream team”, Tommy, Karl and Technoblade, all of them had slightly damp shirts and a towel, “The best thing is that the wind was in his favour and still lost!” Karl exclaimed and the rest apart Dream started laughing, “I’m sorry Dream but he beat you faire and square” George placed a hand on the blondie’s shoulder who immediately shrugged it off, “I don’t need you to remind me” he rolled his eyes, Tommy laughed once again, “What Dream?” Sapnap hit him with his elbow, “Is the little piss baby too angry to admit defeat?” The rest of the boys laughed, “Guys please stop, it isn’t funny” he crossed his arms, Techno spoke up, “Yeah guys, give him a break, it isn’t nice to rub salt in the wound, he knows he’s a sore loser” a bright smile and mischievous eyes looked at Dream, “Oh fuck off Techno” the blondie surrendered and leaned on the counter, Wilbur welcomed him with a smile, “Let me guess, they’re making fun of you because you called yourself ‘Better than Techno’, ey?” Dream nodded, sitting in one of the high stools at the counter, everyone did the same, dropping off the backpacks at their feet. Tommy slammed his hand on the counter, “Will you should have been there! Techno was a disadvantage the WHOLE time and fucking killed it!” The pink-haired man cracked a little smile, flattered to see the little blondie so excited about his win.

Wilbur grabbed six glasses and placed them in front of each boy, pouring water in all of them, Sapnap and Tommy chugged them so he had to refill them instantly, “Well now I’m curious, tell me how the race went” George giggled just thinking about the events that went down not too long before, “I’ll tell him!” Karl exclaimed, and started narrating.

_____________________

On Phil’s recommendation, Dream and Sapnap, both Sky surf instructors, had put up an event where from two pm until five-thirty pm, with a small cost, you could Sky surf for thirty minutes with the establishment’s equipment, and if you didn’t know how to do it, they could teach you pretty easily. The idea was nice, both men were down to do so, and the day was pretty windy, they were expecting a maximum of six, seven people as soon as they opened, not twelve. Pretty early they called Karl to come help them with the event, an hour later they also had to call Tommy because they really had underestimated how many people would be interested. So the afternoon was going well, something about thirty people showed up in the end and everyone was tired, thank god the two helpers were around that day.

As everyone was getting back to shore, Techno, who had left Jack on lifeguard duty, dropped by to see how it was going, “I’m glad Phil’s idea took off” Dream was knelt folding the kites, he smiled at the pink-haired man, “Yeah, I mean when did Phil’s ideas not take off” Techno smiled, he was right, Phil always had the best ideas, “Are you tired yet?” The blondie got up and shook his head, “Nah, had to stay on land for most of the time, Sapnap and Tommy handled the sea part” he placed the kite in its respective backpack and grabbed the board and strings, “Would you be down for a race? Voices says that you’re better than me and I’d like to prove them wrong”.

Dream cringed, a couple of days ago, out of pure adrenaline from winning a race with the ‘Dream Team’ he had yelled that ‘He was better than Techno’, he didn’t mean it, Techno and he had was a mutual rivalry with a shared skill level, their only difference was Dream knew how to exploit the winds currents to go faster, Techno had more experience on surfing in general, so he had better balance, knowledge on how to control the kite and had an extreme precision when jumping, you couldn’t tell which one was better. “Ah… that… Yeah, s-sure! I’ll give you a chance” Dream stuttered, he was sure the pink-haired man knew he was the one who said that and yet, Techno smiled, as nothing happened. “I’ll go grab my equipment then, see you at the starting point” and so he turned around and headed off to the lifeguard chair. Dream sighed, “Oh what have I done...” he was already a little sore, mostly his arms, but Techno was ready to go and completely fresh, knowing the man, he was going to give it his all.

“Hey Dream what are you standing there for?! There are still things to put away!” Sapnap approached him, slapping his hand on Dream’s shoulder, he flinched, “I have done a mistake” he turned to look at the man with the black hair, he tilted his head in confusion, “What did you do?” Dream sighed once again, “I woke up the sleeping pig...”. Sapnap blinked, and upon realizing what Dream had said-

“Holy shit dude... KARL! TOMMY!” he immediately shouted back to the other two boys helping some people off their gear, running towards them, “TECHNO AND DREAM ARE HAVING A RACE!!!” at this point all he could do was sigh for the third time as yells of excitement came from behind him, he stared out at the sea, this was going to be a difficult one.

____________________________

After they inflated the kites, slipped into their suits and laid out the strings, they were ready to go, “Ladies and gentlemen! A race between the best Sky surfers of the Seaside bathhouse is about to begin!” George talked through the megaphone, gaining the attention of the bathers, Dream started to feel the familiar adrenaline of being the centre of attention. “Please stay clear of the start/arrival and the path of the race!” He spoke again, looking back at Techno, Tommy was childishly jumping around him, probably spouting encouragements, like Techno even needed them.

“Hey dude, good luck” Sapnap approached him and smiled, Karl also waved his hands around, giving him a thumb up, “YOU CAN DO IT DREAM!!!” He shouted from next to Niki, that happened to come and watch, he felt a little reassured by the positivity. Right before they started, George whispered him a “Good luck” and smiled before speaking back into the megaphone, “The contenders will have to get into the water, circle the buoy in the distance and get back to shore, the first one to complete the course will be the winner!” After a deep sigh, he signalled Karl to let go of his kite, Techno did the same to Tommy, “Dream, Technoblade, that the best may win, good luck to both” the contenders nodded to George’s wishes, “You scared Dream?” The pink-haired man had tied his long hair into a pigtail, Dream scoffed, “I should ask the same to you!” The other man smiled, “Good luck green man”, he nodded.

“On your marks… Ready… Set…GO!!!” George gave the go, both men ran into the waves and hopped on their boards, the race was on.

Techno started surfing first but Dream passed him quite early, calculating how the wind went, his usual competitive technique should have worked just fine, and it did, he was the first one to circle around the buoy, Techno had lost a lot of ground, they were both too far way too hear the people cheering on the shore.

The wind picked up, Dream took it as a good opportunity to increase his speed, and so he did, kneeling a little. He could feel the adrenaline rise as the people were becoming bigger and clearer to see.

Well, that was until his rival surpassed him with a long jump, the happiness disappeared and got replaced with fear: It was Techno’s speciality, jumping a very long distance even without a favourable wind.

As the man got further away from him, he started calculating how he could gain back some ground: Jumping was out of the question, the wind would have knocked him in the wrong direction, how the hell did Techno do it? The best option was to follow the wind as much as possible and correct the trajectory manually, it was all he could do.

But not long after a dozen of meters, Techno jumped again, and of course skipped a long distance, getting him an irrecoverable distance from Dream. It was over, no way he was getting this, the adrenaline started to decrease as Techno got on land, a loud cheer announced his defeat.

___________________________________

“Ey! Good job Techno!” Wilbur shook the man a little, gaining a smile. “Dream did very well too, he had an impressive advantage at the start” George looked at the blondie, they both smiled, Dream felt lucky that his ‘Team’ had his back. “EWWW! Get a room you two!” Tommy yelled out, making everyone laugh,

“HEY GUYS!!!” They all turned to see Quackity wave at them from the other side of the bar, “We’re playing darts! Who doesn’t join is a pussy!” Tommy and Sapnap jumped off the stool immediately, “As if I wouldn’t join!” The one with the white bandana stated, George giggled and also hopped off, “Yeah sure, wait until I destroy you, then you wish you hadn’t joined” Quackity laughed, “Yeah, sure Gogy!” Karl followed the group, “I’ll cheer you all on!”.

As they got further away, Techno turned to Dream, “Thank you for the race by the way” Dream snapped his gaze at him, “Huh?” the man smiled, “You know there can’t be a better one between us, you have multiple recent gold medals and I have old gold medals. Plus, who cares? I just enjoy racing with someone of my skill level” Dream smiled, “Don’t get soft on me Techno” The pink-haired man smiled, “What, can’t handle compliments?” They both laughed, cheering at their rivalry-friendship.

Ranboo shook Wilbur’s shoulder and whispered, “Weren’t they supposed to be enemies?” the older one turned away from the small glass they were looking through, “Nah, Techno and Dream have always been great friends, they just don’t know how to express gratitude well, so they fight instead” Wilbur went on to help Fundy with the appetizer for the darts contest, Ranboo let out an “Oh…” and then followed Wilbur, leaving the two men alone to chat.

#fanfiction #my fanfiction #dreamspm #dreamsmp fanfiction #dreamsmp au #technoblade #wilbur soot #karl jacobs #georgenotfound #sapnap #tommyinnit #fanmade au #writing #my writing #Dreamsmp! Seaside au

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shadowywerewolfqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Rewind

For Suptober Day 12: Rewind

So, this one really got away from me but I just couldn’t help myself so have 4300 words of Destiel fluff.

“Dean, did you inventory your half of the annex like I asked you to?” Sam hollered as he walked down the stairs of the bunker, having just got back from a hunt with Eileen.

Dean, who had his feet propped up on the map table and a beer in his hand, scoffed at his brother’s question. “I’ll get to it. I thought you were going to be gone for another few days, anyways.”

Sam flashed a bitch face at his brother as he set his duffel on the table. “Dude, I’ve been gone for a week longer than expected.”

“Whatever. It’ll get it done, I promise,” Dean replied as he took a sip of his beer.

“Dammit Dean! Can’t you just do something when I ask you to do it? We agreed to split the annex in half and I’m already done with my half. There could be tons of new books and artifacts that could be really useful, but we won’t know because you won’t sort through the stuff,” Sam said angrily.

Dean slammed his bottle on the table and dropped his feet to the floor. “Alright, if it will get you to quit bitching, I’ll go start now. Geez, how Eileen puts up with you is beyond me.” Dean drank the last of his beer before walking out the war room.

“Stupid, pushy brother. Always has to be on my case,” Dean grumbled as he made his way down the maze of hallways to the annex. “Dude needs to have a romp in the sack with Eileen and then maybe he can be like Elsa and let it go.”

Dean flicked the light switch on and groaned. Half of the annex was completely reorganized and not a single thing was out of place. The other half was disorderly with boxes thrown around haphazardly and sheets covering most of the stuff. “Son of a bitch,” he growled as he walked over to the nearest box and opened it. A mouse scurried out and ran across the toe of Dean’s boot before disappearing under a shelf.

He spent the next five hours cleaning and had barely seemed to make a dent. He went to the kitchen to grab a beer, happy that he didn’t run into his brother. He did run into somebody else, though.

Dean was walking into the kitchen and looking at his phone, so he never saw the trench coat clad angel walking through the entryway. As he collided with Cas, his phone fell to the floor and Dean would have fallen on his ass had Cas not grabbed him by the arm.

“Dean, are you ok?” Cas asked, his hand still wrapped tightly around the hunter’s bicep.

“Yeah Cas, I’m good. Thanks for catching me,” Dean said with a light blush.

Cas finally dropped his hand and picked up Dean’s phone off the floor. He handed it back and said, “You’re welcome. So, what are you and Sam up to?”

Dean pocketed his phone and went to the fridge to grab a beer. “I don’t even know where Sam is at the moment. Probably taking one of his six hour bubble baths. I’m organizing my half of the annex so Sammy will quit bitching at me to do it. What are you doing here, I thought you were taking care of some important angel business?”

“Um, it’s all done,” Cas said quickly. “I figured I would come check on you and your brother since I’ve been gone for so long.” Cas glanced at Dean before immediately looking away.

Dean didn’t say anything about the angel acting kind of strange. He was used to Cas being a little odd. “We’re good actually. Just a few monster of the week cases but nothing major for once.”

Cas nodded once. “That’s good. Um, would you like any help with your organizing?”

Dean’s eyes went wide before he stammered, “Uh, n-no. I’m, I’m good. I promised Sam I’d do it on my own anyways. He did his side on his own, so it’s only fair for me to do it… on my own, you know?” Dean wanted to smack himself for how stupid he sounded.

The angel’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Ok. I’ll just go to my room then. If you change your mind, let me know.” Cas left without another word.

Dean watched him go before scrubbing a hand down his face and muttering, “Fuck.”

The crush he had carried for Cas had long since turned into full blown romantic love. Dean had no idea how to handle such a concept. He was not a guy who met someone, fell in love, and settled down. He was a hunter who loved them and left them after a night or two. With Cas, he could never imagine sleeping with the angel once and then leaving him. Dean wanted the apple pie life, but he knew he could never have that. He was a hunter and not to mention a pretty lousy human. Why would an Angel of the Lord ever consider Dean for a partner?

As Dean fell deeper in love with Cas, the more flustered he got being around the angel. He could hardly be in Cas’ presence for more than a few minutes before he started imagining what Cas’ lips would feel like or what his hands running along Dean’s skin would feel like. Having normal conversations with Cas was becoming impossible and now he just sounded like a love-sick idiot every time he was around the man. Dean knew if he had accepted Cas’ offer to help organize, he wouldn’t have organized anything because he would spend the whole time staring at the angel.

Dean sighed as he walked back to the annex. He started going through boxes again, putting things in two separate piles. A pile for stuff to be kept and a pile for broken junk that needed to get thrown away. Dean was grabbing another box off the shelf when he stepped on something and lost his footing. He crashed to the ground and the box went flying. “Son of a bitch,” he cried.

He rolled his shoulders before getting to his knees and picking up the stuff that now littered the floor. He had an armful of junk and dumped it back in the box. He looked around and grabbed a small wooden brown case that he had missed. He looked at the case and could barely make out some writing under the layer of dust. He rubbed his finger across the top and read the writing.

“Rewind Buzzer. What the heck can it rewind?” Dean asked as he opened the box.

The inside of the case was lined with red velvet and a piece of paper was lying on top of whatever was in the box. Dean picked the paper up and read the sentence written on it. His eyes got big at what he read. He dropped the paper to the ground and stared at the buzzer nestled in the case.

The buzzer was a device that could rewind time. Dean grinned at the idea of what he could do with that ability. The amount of pranks he could pull on Sam were infinite. He picked the paper back up and turned it over, searching for how far back in time the buzzer went.

Dean looked up when he heard his name called. Cas walked into the annex, wearing a pair of sweats and one of Dean’s old band tees. It was a rarity to see him in anything but his suit and trench coat and Dean couldn’t help but stare. Cas was always handsome but looking at him now, Dean thought he was drop dead gorgeous.

“Dean, are you ok? You’re staring at me more than usual,” Cas said, a small smile on his face.

“Uh, yeah, Cas, I’m good,” Dean replied, his cheeks turning a bright red. “Just not used to seeing you without your suit and trench coat.” He sat the case on the shelf and moved to stand in front of the angel.

Cas picked at the hem of his shirt. “I can go change if you want. You’ve told me for years the bunker is my home and one is supposed to be comfortable in their home, correct?”

Dean’s face softened as he reached out and laid his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Yeah, buddy you are. Please don’t go change on my account. You have every right to be comfortable here. This is your home.”

“Thanks Dean,” Cas said as he hesitantly pulled the hunter in for a hug.

“You’re welcome angel,” Dean replied as he wrapped his arms around Cas’ shoulders. He savored being wrapped in the angel’s tight embrace, knowing it would only last for a few seconds. He couldn’t help but take in a deep breath of Cas’ rich earthy scent before the man pulled away. Dean barely managed to not whimper at losing the feeling of warmth the angel offered.

Cas looked over Dean’s shoulder and his gaze landed on the box Dean had been holding. He walked over to investigate. He picked the box up and studied the buzzer before looking at Dean. “This is a very powerful object and is imbued with archangel grace.”

“What?” Dean asked with surprise, moving to stand next to Cas. “So, do you know how it works then?”

Cas nodded. “I do, it was once carefully guarded by Heaven because of how powerful it is. It has the ability to rewind time even if it can only go back five minutes.”

“Five minutes doesn’t seem like such a big deal,” Dean scoffed. It wouldn’t be very useful in pulling pranks on his little brother, that was for sure.

“No, it doesn’t but five minutes can make a huge difference in something such as a battle. This was created to help angels gain an upper hand over demons in the war we had with them,” Cas explained. “The next time I go to Heaven, I will take this with me. We can’t afford for it to fall into the wrong hands.”

Dean, who had been lost in thought about what he could do if he could rewind time, looked up at Cas. “What? Why? The bunker is perfectly safe! No demon can get in here with all the warding.”

Cas titled his head. “I don’t know Dean. Heaven is even safer than this when it comes to demons. Why do you care where it goes anyways?”

“Uh, I do-don’t,” Dean stammered. “You know what, never mind. I’ll just put it on the shelf so you know where it is when you go back to Heaven.”

Cas nodded. “Thank you Dean. Now, are you sure you don’t want help with cleaning this up?”

Dean quickly replied, “Yeah, I’m sure! Like I said earlier, if Sam can do his half on his own, it’s only fair I do my half on my own. Why don’t you go relax in the Dean Cave. Watch some Netflix and Chill.”

Cas looked at Dean with curiosity but only said, “Okay Dean. If you want to join me, you’re welcome to.”

“Yeah, maybe in a little bit. I should get some more organizing done,” Dean replied.

“Alright, see you later,” Cas said lowly before turning around and walking out the room.

As soon as he was gone, Dean grabbed the case off the shelf. While talking to Cas, he had come up with an idea. Even though he didn’t have much hope that Cas might actually like him, he finally had the guts to try. With the buzzer, he could tell Cas how he felt and then if the angel didn’t return the sentiment, Dean would just rewind time and deal with his broken heart by getting lost at the bottom of a bottle. He slipped the buzzer in his pocket before heading to the Dean Cave.

He walked in the room to see Cas sitting on the couch, Orange is the New Black playing on the TV. “Hey Cas,” Dean said softly.

Cas paused the show before looking over his shoulder at Dean. He smiled as he said, “Hello Dean. Change your mind?”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck as he answered, “Uh, well there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Ok, what is it?”

“Ok, well, the thing is, I, uh, wanted to tell you about how I feel. About you that is,” Dean added.

Cas stood up and walked towards Dean. “What exactly do you want to tell me?”

“So, the thing is, you know you mean a lot to me… and to Sam. We both, you know, care about you,” Dean said awkwardly.

“I know. You said you both think of me as a brother,” Cas said, his lips curved up at the corners.

“Exactly, well… not exactly. You see Cas, I don’t really think of you as a brother,” Dean replied, he cheeks turning red.

Cas snapped his head back. “Oh.” His shoulders slumped and his eyes became glued to the floor. “I just forgot there’s something I need to do. Excuse me.” Cas pushed past Dean, hurrying towards the exit.

Dean turned around and grabbed Cas’ wrist. “Cas, wait!”

“You know, you could have told me the truth instead of lying to me for so long,” Cas cried as he ripped his wrist out of Dean’s grasp.

He fled down the hallway before Dean could say anything else. “Son of a bitch,” Dean shouted in frustration. “That was not how it was supposed to go.” Dean pulled the buzzer out of his pocket. “Alright, I really hope this damn thing works.”

He pressed the buzzer down and felt as if his stomach was being twisted from the inside out. He slammed his eyes shut and focused on trying not to puke. Once his stomach settled, he opened his eyes to find himself standing back in the annex. He blinked before looking at the buzzer. “Huh, guess it does work. Now, to try this again.”

Dean hurried to the Dean Cave. “Hey Cas, can I talk to you?”

Cas paused his show and looked over his shoulder. “Hello Dean, of course you can. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I wanted to tell you how I feel… about you, that is,” Dean added, the tips of his ears warming up.

Cas stood to his feet and walked over to Dean. “About me? I don’t understand.”

Dean took a deep breath before saying, “Ok, so you know how I told you that you’re like a brother to me and Sam. Well, the truth is… I uh, well I, um, dammit.” Dean cursed himself for getting tongue tied. Why was it so hard to just tell Cas how he felt?

Cas squinted his eyes. “Dean, you’re not making any sense.”

“I know, I’m not. I’m trying to tell you how I don’t think of you as a brother,” Dean cried.

Just like last time, Cas became extremely upset and stormed out of the room.

“Dammit! No more talking about Cas as a brother,” Dean growled before pressing the button again.

Once he had gotten over the jarring feeling of travelling back in time, Dean headed to Cas for a third time. “Cas, I need to talk to you,” he said, harsher than he intended, but he was getting frustrated. It shouldn’t be this hard to tell the angel that Dean was in love with him.

Cas paused the show and said, “Ok, about what?”

Dean stood in front of the TV looking at Cas. “So, there’s something I’ve been hiding for a while and I decided it’s time that I tell you.”

Cas stood to his feet. “Ok, what is it?”

“The truth is, you’re important to me Cas, like really important,” Dean said in a rush.

Cas smiled. “Dean, I already know that. You’re important to me as well. You and Sam.”

Dean frowned. “I’m not talking about Sam right now, I’m talking about you and how I feel about you.”

“I already know how you feel about me Dean,” Cas said as he settled a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“You do?” Dean asked excitedly.

Cas nodded. “Of course, you told me how you and Sam consider me a brother. I know how high of an honor that is.”

“Ugh, why the hell does the whole thing about you being a brother keep coming up? That’s not how I feel about you anymore,” Dean hollered. For the third time in a row, he watched Cas walk out the room.

“Son of a bitch!”

Dean pressed the buzzer and then hurried towards the Dean Cave. “Cas I need to talk to you and it has nothing to do with you being like a brother to me and Sam.”

Cas paused the TV and looked at Dean with a head tilt. “Ok, that is random but oddly specific.”

“Whatever, I need to tell you something and I need you to listen,” Dean said, ignoring Cas’ comment.

“Well, I’m not stopping you.”

“So, here goes, the truth is Cas, I really really care about you a lot! Like a lot, a lot,” Dean said hurriedly.

Cas chuckled. “Dean, I care about you a lot as well. It’s not like I didn’t already know that. Did you just want to get out of cleaning the annex?”

“What? No! Cas, are you listening to me? I just said I like you a lot!” Dean was staring at the angel, pleading with his eyes for Cas to understand what he meant.

Cas just smiled and patted Dean on the shoulder. “I like you a lot too, Dean, which is a good thing since we spend so much time together. I’m gonna grab a beer, would you like one?”

Dean watched helplessly as Cas walked out the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me! How could he not get what I was saying? Am I going to have to spell it out for him?” Dean groaned and pressed the buzzer again.

At this point, he didn’t even notice the twisting in his stomach from the buzzer. This time his stomach was twisting from something else. He didn’t say “I love you” very often and apparently he was going to have to say it for Cas to understand what Dean was trying to tell him. Things just got a whole lot harder. He trudged to the Dean Cave, trying to build up his courage.

“Cas, can I talk to you?” Dean asked as he walked into the room.

“Of course,” Cas said as he paused the TV.

Dean huffed, “Alright, I’m just going to say it! Cas, I love yo- yo-yogurt.”

Cas snorted. “Oook. Thank you for telling me although I never would have thought you would like yogurt. That seems more like something Sam would like.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! How do I keep screwing this up?” Dean shouted. He didn’t even wait for Cas to walk out the room before pulling the buzzer out and pressing the button.

Dean tried again and this time told Cas he loved yodeling. “Who the fuck even likes yodeling?” Dean screamed after pressing the buzzer again.

He tried again and screwed up, this time tripping over his feet and breaking his wrist as he ran into the Dean Cave. Another try, another failure after he got so tongue tied that he just walked out the room, his head hanging in shame. Three more rewinds, three more failed attempts at telling Cas the truth. Once Dean rewound time again, he sunk to the floor and dropped his head in his hands.

He sat there, feeling hopeless. He could slice a vamp’s head off their shoulders or put a silver bullet straight through a werewolf’s head but he couldn’t tell a dorky angel how he felt about him. “I’ve saved the fucking world multiple times, but whenever I try to tell Cas I love him, I screw up. Maybe, I’m just not meant to be with Cas and this is some crazy sign.”

“Dean?”

The hunter looked up at the soft whisper of his voice. His face paled when he saw Cas standing in the doorway. He scrambled to his feet, refusing to look at the angel. He didn’t look up until Cas reached out and gently forced his chin up. Green locked with blue.

“Did you mean that? What you just said,” Cas asked, fear evident in his voice.

Dean wanted to disagree, wanted to deny the words, but he had been trying to tell the truth to the angel for the past hour. He had just hoped it would be in a different way. “Yeah, Cas, it’s true,” Dean said with a sigh.

Cas’ thumb rubbed against Dean’s cheek. “Why do you sound so upset about that?”

Dean pulled away from Cas and took the buzzer out of his pocket. “I’ve been trying to tell you the truth for the past half hour and couldn’t manage to say it to your face!”

“Dean, you’ve been in the annex for the past hour. I know you said you didn’t want my help, but I couldn’t let you do this all on your own,” Cas said.

Dean shook his head. “No, I’ve been using the rewind buzzer to keep going back in time, but I kept screwing up every time I tried to tell you the truth.”

“How many times have you used the buzzer?”

Dean thought about it before embarrassingly admitting, “Eleven times.”

“And you’ve rewound back to this time every time and not let the new timeline play out?”

“Well, yeah because I kept screwing up,” Dean said angrily.

“Dean, because you kept coming back here, the time loop reset itself. The only way it wouldn’t have is if you had gone back in time and let the new future play out, then I wouldn’t have been sitting on the couch watching Netflix for the past hour,” Cas explained.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Not like it really matters. Eleven times trying to tell you how I feel about you and eleven times I fucked up.”

Cas stepped closer and reached out and entwined his fingers with Dean’s. “Twelfth time’s a charm.”

“I didn’t want you to find out that way though. I wanted to tell you to your face but I kept getting so nervous because I really didn’t think you would feel the same way,” Dean admitted, as he dropped his eyes, not looking at Cas.

“Dean, how could you possibly think I don’t feel the same way? Have you never noticed the way I look at you or the unbelievable amount of times I’ve told you we shared a more profound bond? I always take care of you first before healing Sam and I’ve never turned up a chance to work a case with you or join you at a diner for burgers and pie. Dean, I’ve loved you for years but I didn’t think you did,” Cas declared.

Dean looked up in awe. “You really mean all of that?”

“Mhm, every word of it.”

“But why, I’m just a human and a lousy one at that,” Dean said, self-deprecating as always.

“You are no such thing! You are the strongest, bravest man I know and there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for your family! You think so little of yourself because you’ve always made sure everybody else was taken care of. Well, now it’s my turn to take care of you. Please, let me,” Cas begged.

Dean looked into the eyes of the angel he loved. “I’m not strong enough to say no.”

“That’s ok, this one time you can be weak,” Cas whispered before pulling Dean into a kiss. Dean slid his hands into Cas' hair while the angel wrapped one hand around Dean’s waist and the other around the back of his neck.

Cas slid his lips against Dean’s lightly, just savoring the feel of the hunter’s lips against his. Dean, it seemed, wasn’t wanting gentle. Dean pressed his lips harder against Cas’ before slipping his tongue out and licking along the seam of Cas’ mouth. Cas opened immediately and Dean slid his tongue inside of the angel’s mouth. Their tongues met in the middle and slid against each other before moving to explore one another’s mouth. Cas angled his head, allowing him to seal his mouth even more tightly over Dean’s as their tongues continued to dance together.

Dean finally had to pull away, the need for air too great. He smirked when he saw that Cas was just as affected by the kiss. His hair was sticking up at all angles and his lips were swollen and red. Dean figured he didn’t look much better.

Cas looked affectionately at Dean. “Does that prove how I feel about you?”

Dean’s lips turned up at the corners. “Yeah Cas it does. I love you too.” He rubbed his nose against Cas before pressing another chaste kiss to the angel’s lips as his arms slid around Cas’ waist. He let his cheek rest on Cas’ shoulder, enjoying the warmth of being wrapped in the angel’s arms.

Cas smiled down at the hunter, reaching a hand up to run his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I love you so much Dean,” he whispered. He had been wrong, the bunker wasn’t home. This was home, being wrapped around the hunter he had loved for years.

“You know, you were right. That buzzer belongs in Heaven,” Dean whispered.

“No more rewinding time for you,” Cas said with a laugh.

Dean pressed his body even closer to Cas’. “Don’t need to rewind time anymore, I got what I want right here.” The annex didn’t get organized as they spent the rest of the day wrapped up in each other.

#suptober20 #My writing #my OTP #Destiel

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locke-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Bound

Title: Bound

Author: locke-writes

Summary: Soulmate AU, Arranged Marriage Trope x Tony Stark for @thranduilsperkybutt 11k writing challenge

Rating: T

Word Count: 6,691

AN: I had an idea and this happened. Could it have been split into chapters? Probably, but that’s too late now.

Tag List: @lotsoffandomrecs @lgbtonystarks @scarletsoldierrr @moonlit-imagines

In a world where soulmates existed you felt that it was particularly cruel that arranged marriages also existed. All over the world parents bound their children into marriage contracts with the disregard of soulmates. Stories often met your ears of children running from family as they came upon their soulmate while bound by contract to marry someone else. You wondered if you would have the courage to do the same if ever you met your soulmate. You dreaded if you would ever be in the position to find out.

It was no secret to you that you would never have the chance others might have. It was no secret to you that you otherwise has more privilege than most despite this fact. Others would marry freely, living happily with soulmates, people cosmically bound to them and you knew that while sometimes there were painful moments in the lives of soulmates, being bound to one another meant having a tether when you're world was collapsing.

Your world had been collapsing from moment one as your fate had long been sealed or rather in some ways ignored from birth. Arranged marriages were seen by yourself as torturous, something used as a way of controlling what couldn't be controlled. Fate was a cruel mistress, wasn't that the saying. But fate had not meant some of the more stubborn people on Earth. Perhaps the only reason you held your particular position on the subject matter was due to your being in an arranged marriage yourself.

At age five it was decided that you would be married to Tony Stark when you both came of age. Specifically after you both turned twenty-one and at said time would begin to transition into leadership roles of your family companies. Stark Industries and your families own company would benefit from a marriage and it would be a marriage of convenience not of love. At age five you were taken to Stark Manor and sat down next to Tony while a contract was being signed,

You supposed it could have been worse. At age five you were completely unaware of the predicament you had just been placed in. Soulmarks didn't appear until a persons thirteenth birthday and at the time you had yet to understand the complete concept of soulmates only just grasping some small details of the idea that there was someone out their in the world that you would love in an instant, that you would feel you had known all your life.

Arranged marriages occurred for a number of reasons. Yours happened to occur for pure financial gain. No more competition between companies, simply a merger due to an imminent wedding. Not something you would understand for years to come but something you would come too despise. Arranged marriages seemed to you a destruction of the complex concept of love, love in which should be an instant feeling.

At five you were more concerned with the fact that the boy next to you wasn't sharing the blocks he was playing with than anything. At five you hardly understood your reason for being in the house that you were in, you only recognized that you had never been there before and you knew from the way your parents spoke that it wasn't going to be the last time you set foot here.

At age seven you'd begun to develop a friendship with Tony. Weekends were often spent together with it being more irregular that you would be elsewhere than by his side. There was no doubt of his burgeoning genius at that time and you were not far behind. Trouble seemed to follow you both wherever you ran as if it had been glued to you. At age seven you began to understand what a soulmate was and at age seven you began to understand that you would live to never meet your own.

You couldn't grasp what it meant to lose your soulmate before you'd even met them but you knew that this was something you'd never have. Tony didn't seem to mind or at least he never showed it and in your mind that meant that he had accepted his fate. This was ultimately something that you realized you would have to accept as well. This was the life designed for you and it would be easier to live if you embraced wholeheartedly that there would be no soulmates in your life.

No seven year old should stare straight into the face of fate and reject it but you weren't staring into fate you were shoved in front of it and yanked away without warning. It was hell and yet you wouldn't understand what was being taken away from you until you were older. At the moment you'd a vague idea yet there'd be no confirmation yet, there couldn't be. After all you hadn't a soulmark yet.

At age ten you started questioning if being married to Tony was such a bad thing after all. Of course you hated the fact that he was going to be keeping you from meeting your soulmate but still, ever since the day you first met you'd become friends. It helped that your minds worked in a similar way. Oh and also you were forced to spend Sundays together as part of the marriage contract but still, after five years he was certainly a friend.

Not that you'd ever tell him that you thought marriage to him was going to be ok. After all how bad could it be being married to someone who hated the idea of arranged marriages as much, if not more, than you did. Both of you had resigned yourselves to believing that there could be no other way. And unfortunately you were correct, even if you had found your soulmates before marriage there was nothing you could do, you couldn't acknowledge such a person existed. If you met them afterwards that posed another problem entirely.

But you were being thrust headfirst into a barrel full of problems. That was life, or rather the harshness of your life alone.

For most, the day they turn thirteen is a celebration. It is the day when the soulmark appears and you can now begin the search for your soulmate. Each soulmate will have the same mark although the placement of it is random. Treated like New Years Eve, the night before a thirteenth birthday was used as an excuse to stay up all night as a soulmark would appear at the stroke of midnight. Fate may be full of tricks but it was nothing if not punctual.

On the eve of your birthday however, you were in bed. Asleep. You didn't want to face what would be on your skin until the morning and even then you dreaded it. In your life you'd seen friends with their marks completely visible on hands and around eyes, you hoped that wherever yours was that you could cover it one way or another.

Tony had already received his mark but you'd never see it. A pact had been made between the two of you that it your marks were never to be shown to one another and your families had each been informed that you were never to be asked about it. They were aware of your distaste regarding the concept of arranged marriages and understood that you felt that your life had been controlled by them. While they refused to accept any blame, you knew it was them at fault.

The next morning you stood in the mirror noticing the mark crept over your upper arm and the tip of your shoulder. You traced the pattern with your finger, the only time you would ever touch your mark in that way. It was in a position that was easily hid by shirt sleeves but you took extra precaution by taking bandage wrap to the area, covering it completely so there was truly no way for anyone to see what mark had been bestowed upon you.

While he wanted to call and ask you how you were doing Tony thought it best to keep silent. He knew how you felt about receiving your mark, it was the same as he felt. The mark that had been placed upon him was a betrayal. He'd never get the chance to be with his soulmate thus there should be no mark, no reminder that his future had been stripped away from him. If you wanted to reach out to him you would but for now he refused to reach out, it wasn't the time and it certainly wouldn't have made you feel better hearing from the person who had taken you away from your soulmate.

You never blamed him for that. You knew he had no choice in the matter, neither did you. After a time you began accepting your misfortune. Tony was the one who you would marry and that was that. Although you supposed it could have been worse, the two of you could have held one another in contempt, animosity building between you. Rather you were lucky enough that the man who was to become your husband in years to come was a friend now.

The next few years went by in a blur as both you and Tony were attending college.

At age fourteen Tony had decided to attend MIT. Always a brilliant engineer you had no doubts that he'd succeed in his higher education. You knew if you had wanted to you could have started college at the same age but you couldn't view yourself becoming a teenager, embracing the oncoming adulthood while dealing with college courses. If it was what Tony wanted then it was what he should do.

At age sixteen you began college, choosing to attend Stanford. Tony had helped you figure out which colleges you should apply to and while you had applied as well as been accepted to MIT you couldn't bring yourself to accept. You were sixteen, in five years you'd be married to Tony and if four years of freedom (or the three it became as you graduated early) was what you could provide for both yourself and him then it was all that you could bring yourself to do.

Besides, Stanford was an exceptional school and you knew that while your name more than likely was what allowed for your acceptance it didn't mean that you hadn't put in the work to be there. Not to mention you forced your parents to set up a scholarship fund in your name that would provide full ride scholarships to anyone with a STEM field as their major or declared minor. Students who declared their major after their first year were also able to apply and receive funding for the rest of their education and were able to keep the money even if later they changed their major once more.

A clause had been put into the marriage contract for when you and Tony each started college. The Sundays that you were required to spend together had been still going on for years with the added free will hangouts that came sometimes on weekdays and Saturdays. Sundays became less forced and more of something you each looked forward to but with college there was no need for you to see one another every week, it wasn't practical. The clause simply stated that these visits should be deemed null and void. Tony offered to continue with making weekly calls to you on Sundays but you told him not to bother.

Freedom. It was the last thing you could think to provide for Tony and secretly he was grateful. Marriage was coming and there hadn't been a time he remembered that he'd been able to explore who he was without that fact looming over him like the Sword of Damocles.

Ate age seventeen Tony graduated from MIT and began working in his own sector of Stark Industries. You were invited to the graduate ceremony and it felt awkward having pictures taken together that you knew one day you'd look back on. In the moment to others who had no knowledge of the arrangement simply saw Tony with his friend but you knew that to your families it looked like Tony and his future fiancé, not that a proposal would even happen or was going to be needed.

It was an arranged marriage. The proposal was the contract. No romance, just lawyers with pens to use for signing and initialing.

Nineteen was what became, in your mind, the hell year. There was only one good thing in all the gloom, your graduation.

Nineteen was filled with horrors. Nineteen was the year that Tony's parents died and it was the year that you finally understood how unfeeling your own parents were. You suddenly began to grasp in full just how much of a benefit to them this marriage was meant to be.

Tony was numb. He should have felt something, anything at all. He should have wailed, cried out in pain but nothing happened. Nothing occurred. The call had come in, his parents had been found dead, a car crash he was told. He responded calmly to the questions that were asked of him, made funeral arrangements over the phone and informed the board of Stark Industries what had occurred. He'd arranged meetings with them to go over the next steps in terms of the business and what it would mean, how it would go about in press releases although the news had already picked up on the incident.

He took care of what needed to be done and then when all was over, when all business was taken care of, he called you. For a moment he was silent and then the news was whispered, it was a dagger to your heart. Howard he had never gotten along with but Maria, she had been the person he confided in often. For Tony, his mother had been practically his only parent and the only person in his life that for the longest time he felt had understood him other than you. And for you, Maria had been the only person to sympathy for your cause. She knew you felt as though it was unjust, your eventual marriage to her son and in private she apologized to you both for not trying stop it.

Words seemed useless that day, you simply sat by Tony as he grieved and you took his hand in your own. On the day of the funeral you did the same, you stood by him when he needed it and you left him alone when asked. He delivered the eulogy and looked to you for guidance in terms of where to place his grief. All you wanted in that day was to be a friend he could count on and all you wanted was for others to understand how he felt. You should have known your parents would be the exception to the rule.

Instead of offering condolences they simply reminded Tony of the contract, telling him that while his parents may be dead it didn't void the contract. It had been and still would be considered legally binding as Tony was an adult and full capable of upholding his end of the contract. Tony only nodded while you fumed and chewed out your parents later for what they had said that day.

Nineteen turned into twenty and twenty into twenty-one. The year of the wedding.

As was to be expected it was a very publicized affair. Every night there seemed to be a new segment on you and Tony. In every newspaper and magazine there was a new article. Your life was plastered everywhere and there was no privacy to be found. The wedding itself was large, planned by people you had never met and would never meet. It had been handled entirely by your family who you supposed had been planning every single detail from the moment the contract was signed.

There were people in attendance whose names you knew but had never met. There were businessmen there only to make connections, hoping that either you or Tony would be willing to listen to a pitch. There were friends who'd you both made during your years at college, friends who in secret apologized to both of you, friends who felt apologetic for something they had no control over but still felt as though they shouldn't be in attendance.

As far as parties go, it was fine. But it wasn't a party, it was a wedding and the photos you'd have of it would forever prove that the contract was upheld.

In the weeks afterwards you and Tony moved into the house (or rather mansion) gifted by your family. There were enough rooms that you and Tony agreed to move into separate areas of the house and for the most part treat this union as simply roommates rather than a married couple living together. When family was around you'd up the facade of being a married couple but you were friends and friends you would remain. A merger was formed and Stark Industries absorbed your families company, acquiring new technology and a few new business ventures. Everything seemed to be going as smoothly as it was hoped to be by those involved in the arranged marriage.

In secret you were two friends who lived together, in public you kept up the appearances of a married couple. Time may pass but to you and Tony it never wavered the nature of your relationship. You'd heard stories of people who had been in arranged marriages coming to love one another in the romantic sense yet you had only ever loved Tony in the platonic sense and he had felt the same way.

Business thrived and so did your friendship due to the closeness the two of you were forced to uphold. Days turned into weeks and weeks to years, you began to know, to identify, to anticipate every one of Tony's quirks and predictable actions. You knew when he was hiding something (which was often that he took the last cookie without telling you it was the last or something he'd planned for your birthday). You could identify each one of his moods and you wouldn't hesitate to call him out on anything.

You were at his side when he took over from Obadiah, finally the age stipulated in the will that would allow him full control of Stark Industries.

You were at his side when he attended business meetings (although you had to be present for some of them anyway as co-CEO).

You were at his side throughout thick and thin but you knew the idea that you were at his side because you were married was a lie. You were at his side as he was at yours because you were friends and that was what friends did, they supported one another. The only people aware of the act other than you and Tony were both Happy and Pepper. If anyone else knew then they never let on.

But that was what happened when you lived with him, you were made aware of everything.

When he was taken hostage in Afghanistan you were fielding calls left and right. Obadiah was trying to keep the company afloat as were you and the only people who seemed to care in regard to your own well-being were, once again, Pepper and Happy. You were grateful for them both as they seemed to be the only people with gift of the voice of reason. Even your parents didn't seem concerned and they were still under the impression that you viewed Tony more as a husband than as a friend.

Never had you liked the idea of Stark Industries manufacturing weapons, you'd always voted for removal of that sector of the company. Your main focus was on medical improvements and research. Every time you were outvoted yet you were pleased to find Tony's change of heart on his return. You were especially pleased to find that Tony still had his heart as he spoke to you about what he'd been through.

Iron Man became another shared secret for a time until Obadiah's betrayal and Tony's press conference. From then on you supported him in whatever way he needed, often coming to his aid when it came to manufacturing new suits or putting in upgrades. At one point he offered you a suit but you refused. This was his world, he was to be the hero and you would give that to him. It might be the only true thing that was his own.

Perhaps you should have spoken earlier when the woman named Natalie Rushman became Tony's personal assistant. Providing Pepper with a higher role in the company was something you encouraged but there was also something off with her replacement. Preoccupied with what was poisoning Tony's heart put investigation on the back burner but you weren't surprised when you found out that she was Natalia Romanoff, an agent of SHIELD.

You'd heard rumors regarding the organization but never had it been confirmed until a meeting with Nick Fury and Nat, as she asked you to call her after the discovery. While you were angry at her for lying at first, you recognized that she had a job to do and was only trying to do it well. Quickly she became a friend and confidant, the one person you knew would keep any secret you told her.

The discovery of Vibranium ended the fear you felt when Tony confessed what the palladium was doing to him. Ivan Vanko's death ended the fear that something was going to harm Tony. The idea of the Avengers, as presented by Fury did not end the fear even with the insistence that Tony was not ready for such a team. Of course this would end up not being Fury's choice when the time came.

You had a hard time keeping a straight face when Tony was pulled to join the Avengers later on. While the circumstances for the request were dire it still didn't help that Fury failed Tony as a candidate and was no turning to him for help. Part of your amusement also came from Nat's heads up that it was going to occur and from Phil Coulson's enthusiasm regarding the invitation being extended to one Steve Rogers, or Captain America as most knew him. Part of you felt sorry for the man who woke up in a new century and part of you was simply excited to meet him.

Tony asked you to stay in New York while he was taken to the Helicarrier. You understood and respected his concerns. What you could offer was only research which seemed unnecessary since there was to be Bruce Banner also investigating what you learned to be called the Tesseract. You received daily updates and despite knowing what was coming you stood your ground at Stark Tower helping fight the Chitauri in whatever way that you could.

Odd didn't even begin to cover how you felt after learning about the existence of other worlds. Scared didn't even begin to cover how you felt when you watched as Tony attempted to close the wormhole over New York. While you knew that you were already doing the most to help the team in whatever way that you could it never seemed to feel like enough despite reassurances from not only Tony, Nat, and Steve but from the god of thunder himself.

The Avengers became a second family to you. They were more welcoming, more understanding than your own. This was even proven evident when your parents showed disdain for your friendship with some of the team. You questioned how they could view such a friendship as lowly only to find that the opinions were held simply based on the class status of your newfound friends. It didn't matter that they saved the world it only mattered that they weren't rich. Even Thor didn't get a pass as he was a god.

You realized then what Tony had been saying for years was true. Your parents saw you as a financial gain and not as their child. It was something you'd always seen and recognized but denied because you wanted them to be your parents, you wanted them to be your family. They should be the ones who cared about you but that hadn't cared enough to provide you with freedom and they would never prove to you that who they saw you as was not someone they could respect but they'd always see you as someone they could control.

After the Battle of New York you helped Tony deal with his anxiety and PTSD as he helped you work through the trauma of your own childhood or lack thereof. The Mandarin and Killian seemed to be minor inconveniences in the long run as it was personal growth you were working on for the both of you. You worried more for Tony in those weeks and months than you did for yourself, hoping that he would find some sense of peace in anything and as he chose to remove the arc reactor and repair his heart you knew that he was slowly changing.

He was changing and it was certainly for the better but you should have known that there was to be some hiccup on the way. There never could be peace or happiness or prosperity with you and Tony, there always had to be some sort of grievance with you on behalf of the world. This grievances name happened to be Ultron.

The concept was wonderful, it was the execution that seemed to fall short. After the incident in Sokovia when innocent lives were caught in the middle of the Avengers warfare Tony wanted to step back, he wanted to give the team a break. AI's were always finicky but it was hard to imagine that Ultron would take on a mind of his own in a way that was so far removed from his purpose. Protecting the world didn't mean ridding it of all humanity.

You wondered if, due to Ultron's own existence, you'd ever become comfortable with the fact that JARVIS suddenly became a living being. It was odd seeing the AI walk around and go by a new name. This was the AI that you had talked to on late nights when you were stress baking in the kitchen, now here he was with a cape and a new name. But you didn't care as long as he did what you knew only he could do. Tony at least had created one loyal and valuable AI.

With Ultron gone, Tony returned home to the world of peace he so desperately craved. This, as was usual for Tony, would not last long. However you would always be there with him. He was your husband but you did not feel for him in the way that you presented to the media, yet this never meant that you failed to care for him or failed to be by his side. When the Sokovia Accords were introduced you were the one Tony turned to. He wanted to sign them, he knew what had happened, the killing of innocent lives, was his fault. It weighed heavy on his conscious.

Other members of the team held reservations which both you and Tony understood but you knew that if this was what Tony wanted then it was what Tony would and should do. Being held accountable meant identifying yourself as a hero and you were saddened by the rift this statement seemed to cause. Steve had been like a brother to you and you were well aware of his friendship with Bucky but even you could not excuse what had happened in Sokovia or in the UN.

It broke your heart when Tony retold what he had seen in the footage of the day his parents died.

Or were murdered.

Murdered changed everything.

It changed the way Tony viewed Steve who knew that Bucky was responsible for what had happened to Tony all those years ago. It changed how you saw Steve knowing that he could have told you or Tony at any point in time. Secrets sometimes had their benefits but you couldn't fathom that Steve would keep one so large from the both of you. You didn't question it when Tony cut contact with the super soldier.

You did however question Tony's bringing Peter Parker to Germany although you had to admit that you had underestimated the kid after he refused to become a full fledged Avenger. That was an offer you would have assumed he's jump at. The press conference set up to announce him was instead used as a way to announce some of the new research breakthroughs for the medical branch of Stark Industries.

That conference you had hoped would enter in an age of research and technology that would assist in the evolution of not only cures and treatments but more precise and efficient surgeries. Then of course Thanos had to come and ruin all of that. Then of course Thanos had to come and the medical advances had to be pushed aside for a rush of medical equipment and mass funding for hospitals. Tony approved the expansion of the Avengers medical bay to feature treatments for civilians rather than its main focus on powered individuals.

You watched him as he disappeared into the ship. You knew that this would maybe be your last chance of seeing him. Still you couldn't bring yourself to tell him what you had uncovered in your heart. You loved him, not just as a friend. You were deeply in love with Tony Stark and you had been for years now. It seemed foolish to tell him as part of you still held hope that the two of you would one day be able to be with your soulmates. Your feelings needed to be pushed aside for Tony to ever gain happiness with the person who was his soulmate.

After the Snap as it would come to be known, you hoped that Tony was still alive.

Tony hoped that he would live to see you again if you hadn't been one of the ones affected by the Snap. He wondered if he annoyed Nebula with stories of you. He really didn't have many stories where you weren't involved at all.

His arrival back on Earth shocked you, not just because of how he looked but because he was alive and not dissipated. Per his request you took him away from the compound and took him home, to whatever home you had left at that time of course. Retreating to New York in the country for the next five years allowed for you and Tony to recover, it allowed for Tony to be at peace.

Five years you had together, five years in which you could hav told him how you felt but five years you never said a word to him about your feelings about the fact that you truly did love him not just platonically but romantically as well.

Reckless, it wasn't new for Tony. He'd always been reckless, always been the person who would put himself first, put himself before everyone. This time was no different.

Five years. It should have been enough time and somehow it wasn't. Somehow you couldn't bring yourself to say the words that would change everything with Tony Stark. There was guilt lingering inside you for what if after telling him the truth you found your own soulmate or Tony had found his. You couldn't take fate away from him whether he would have chosen to advance in finding his true soulmate or not.

You journeyed with him to Wakanda for the final battle. While they gathered the stones you had kept away from the Avengers but something told you that you needed to be there. There was no fighting, Tony simply agreed although deep in his heart he hoped you would change your mind. He had seen danger, fought danger, for years and while he knew you were going to stay behind and work as a medic for the wounded he was worried for your safety.

Only when the sky turned to ash did you know the battle was over. Only when Tony was brought it to the medics did you know what he had risked. His arm was damaged far beyond repair even for what Wakandan tech could do. You were no surgeon and while it pained you to relinquish Tony over to others you allowed for them to operate knowing that a prosthetic was something he could learn to live with.

The procedure itself took a few hours, enough time for you to be caught up on what had occurred. You mourned losses, needing to process what you had heard and what you had seen, uncovering the connection between both.

As soon as Tony was awake you were permitted to see him. Your heart ached as you saw him lying their in a hospital bed, bruised but no longer bloody. The loss of his arm didn't bother you but the look on his face that showed he blamed himself for the lost lives did. Whatever it took you would fight to remove that guilt from his mind, he saved more people than he could have ever known and more people than would ever be aware that their lives were saved by him.

He looked toward you as you walked to the chair next to his bed. Sitting you took his hand in yours and waited to see if he would speak. He didn't and you knew instinctively that he wanted a quiet moment, he wanted time to reflect. You would not deprive him of that even though you wanted desperately to use this moment as a way of telling him the truth, as a confession and a way of convincing him that he was the hero he sometimes denied himself to be.

Leaning forward a little he moved to push himself back but his back was bare before you as he had been dressed in a gown after the surgery. You had never meant to look upon it, never meant to break the pact that had been initiated long ago and still, there it was. Located directly between his shoulder blades was his soulmark. Quickly you released his hand stumbling back, nearly knocking over the chair you had been sitting in, running out of the room as Tony apologized, realizing what you must have seen.

You sped past the team in the hallways rushing past Clint who reached for your arm to stop you but you broke free of his grip, turning down a hallway and leaning against a wall to catch your breath and focus. Clint came to stand before you, asking if you were all right.

"I've been a fool. All this time I've been a fool, I could've said something, said I changed my mind. I should have sensed it, don't people sense it Clint?" You asked.

He was confused, "Sense what?"

Staring him in the eye you spoke, "Tony is my soulmate."

Like Natasha, Clint had been aware of the fact that the marriage between you and Tony had been arranged. He was also aware that you and Tony had never seen one another soulmmarks which led him to be skeptical of your statement even though the look on your face told him everything you spoke was indeed true.

"I saw it Clint. It was an accident but there it was. The same mark. All this time, after everything we've been through, after all the years I've loved him I've wasted so much time thinking that I was keeping him and myself from being happy with our soulmates when he was mine. I have to leave."

"What? No. You can't go"

"Tell Tony I'm sorry and I wish I could stay and I hope that he'll forgive me but I do Clint. I need to go, there's something I have to do"

When you landed in New York the first person you called was Pepper. If there was anyone who could help you put together what was needed it was her. Friends you contacted were readily willing to help and you texted Clint to give him the full rundown of your plan so that he could inform you of when Tony might be coming home. You knew it would be normally four to five weeks but Wakanda had medical advances that you had only dreamed of and at three weeks of recovery Tony was given the all clear to return home.

You'd made sure that Clint directed Tony to the cabin that you had chosen to live in during the five years after the Snap. Now that everything was returned to somewhat normal you knew a conversation about returning to the Compound was in your future but you were steadily preparing for one specific day. The knots coiling and uncoiling in your stomach made it seem to you as though you had made the worst decision potentially springing this on Tony although you knew if he had discovered what you had this would also be his approach.

SHIELD agents, Avengers, and other friends you had made were all invited and entrusted to keep quiet until you arrived with Tony. Having been alerted to his arrival to the house you stood on the front porch to greet him. The stare he gave you wasn't filled with joy or anger, it was indifference and you only hoped that what you were about to tell him would change everything. Clint walked up to you first and you whispered to him the location of his suit that he could change into. Tony remained standing before the steps.

"I had to Tony. In a second you might come to understand."

"You saw my mark, that's why you ran. We could have worked through that, we could have adjusted the pact or we could have found a way to make you forget it or we could have done something but you left me in Wakanda."

"Tony Stark. I've been in love with you since before Iron Man existed. I never saw anything because I thought that maybe one day there might come a time in which either you or I would meet our soulmates and my feelings were only going to keep you from moving forward with whoever that might have been. I didn't run because I saw your mark Tony. I ran because after I saw it I knew that I had to do something."

"The being in love with me part makes sense. Not that I knew just that it's the only statement that makes sense in what you just said. But if you didn't run because you saw the mark then why didn't you stay? What was so important that you had to leave?"

You laughed a bit, knowing what you were about to say was absurd and would lead to no clarification just yet, "I had to plan a wedding."

"A wedding. You left me in a hospital in Wakanda after I had an arm amputated because you had to plan a wedding."

"Yes, Tony. Although I don't know if you can call what I planned a wedding. It's more of a vow renewal. Most soulmates get the wedding they want when they meet and decide to get married. Because of arranged marriages, we never got that. We never got a real wedding or the one we might have planned."

"What do you mean we."

Rather than give Tony the full explanation you lifted your sleeve to expose the bandage covering your mark. Gripping it you began to unravel the bandage leaving the mark fully exposed for the first time since your thirteenth birthday. Tony was stunned at what was upon your skin.

"All this time Tony. All this time and it was you."

Walking slowly towards you and up the steps he never said a word only reaching out and touching the mark as he was close enough. He traced over each line knowing that it was indeed the same mark he bore.

"We really have been fools haven't we?" He questioned, causing you to look into his eyes.

"We have."

"I've loved your for as long as I can remember and all this time I could have told you that. All this time instead of feeling apologetic that you were stuck in a marriage to someone who wasn't your soulmate I was wrong. I could have been holding you and caring for you and I could have been telling you I loved you for longer than just this moment. I could have been kissing you, you could have been mine in every possible way but I never said anything."

"Neither did I Tony. Neither of us knew. We're both fools here."

He smiled as he reflected upon your words about the vow renewal, "You planned our entire wedding in a month?"

"Pepper helped and a few friends offered there businesses to take of catering and everything else."

Tony kissed you softly and then pulled away to look at you once more, "I suppose we ought to get married then. In love and as soulmates this time."

You nodded and you led him out to the dock to where the ceremony was to take place.

In your life you had been bound to Tony Stark in three ways, by marriage contract at first, by marriage itself second, and unknowingly your whole life as soulmates.

Soul to soul you were bound.

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