#im gonna wake up feeling like sludge just watch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alistair-blackwood · 5 years ago

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Jon goes on a business trip.

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 1,692

Tags: Established Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Long-Distance

Jon threw his backpack onto the hotel bed and slumped into the desk chair. It boggled him how he could even think about sitting after being trapped in an uncomfortable airplane seat for the last 12 hours, but he just didn’t have the energy to stand.

Weak, grey lighting wormed through the ratty curtains, washing out the already muted yellow walls and doing nothing to lift the temperature of the room. The second hand of the analogue clock twitched in place.

You get what you pay for.

Martin had insisted he would stay up late waiting for Jon's call, but guilt still twisted his stomach as he dialled his number. He wished Martin would have chosen to get some sleep instead, but, then again, the thought of going another day without hearing from him didn’t feel particularly good either.

The call clicked.

“Hello? Jon?”

“Evening.”

“I believe you mean, good morning."

"Shut up."

"Where’ve you been? I’ve been waiting around for ages.”

“I told you I wouldn’t be getting in until around 7. If anything, I’m ahead of schedule.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I was just kind of hoping you were exaggerating how long it would take. You know, so if you get there a bit early, it’s like a nice little surprise.”

“Martin, if you’re expecting an airport to ever being running ahead of schedule, I’m sorry to say, you’ve already lost.”

Martin’s laugh was staticky in the receiver. “So, what’s it like? Sample any cuisines? Are the locals friendly?”

“Yes, I’ve had a bagel sandwich from a coffee shop at the airport, and the cab driver who escorted me to the hotel shouted at me.”

“What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did something?”

“Ah, well, you know, you can be a bit— And it’s not your fault! You’ve just been in a flying metal box for the last day, so it’s totally reasonable to be grumpy. But you can be a bit tetchy at times.”

Jon sighed. “I suppose I was a bit more aggressive expressing my umbrage at the way he handled my bags than was strictly necessary.”

“Jon.”

“My laptop was in there! He threw it.”

“Of course, dear.”

Jon curled up in his chair, wrapping his arm around his knees. “So, what have you been doing?”

“Oh, nothing interesting. Just rewatching old episodes of Emergency Contact. Couldn’t you have at least waited until Monday to fly across the world so we could watch the new one together? Kathy is finally going to find out what happened to her fiancé.”

“I'm sorry, eldritch fear monsters have very little respect for broadcast network scheduling.”

“Pity.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know.”

“Oh, don’t give me that. What’s the point of knowing some big secret if you don’t have anyone to talk to about it? And don’t just try to know it, either!”

“That would be a terrible misuse of my abilities.”

“Since when did you give a toss about that?” Martin yawned, smacking his lips gently. “Well, I guess I should let you go. You must be exhausted.”

“Not really.” Jon didn’t sleep much these days. “But you need to get up early for work, so …”

Martin hummed. The second-hand of the clock continued ticking pointlessly. A film of dust was beginning to settle on the back of Jon's throat. What a terrible hovel this place was.

“Oh, wait, before you go, I wanted to tell you, you won’t believe what Melanie found while digging around for the Davis case.”

“What is it?”

“Okay, so, you know how the guy was acting super weird and it’s, like, yeah, he definitely killed his ex-wife, right?”

“Yeah?” Jon said, pulling the thin blanket off the bed before settling back down.

“Well, guess what Melanie found in the storage closet of his mechanic’s shop?”

“Her dismembered corpse?”

“What? No, his toolbox. What’s the matter with you? You’re so morbid.”

"Oh."

“That’s a joke, I’m joking. Melanie didn’t find anything, was talking my ear off all day yesterday about it. Absolutely exhausting. I mean, I get it, Brighton isn’t exactly close, but remember when I had to go all the way to bloody Plymouth?”

Jon did, but he let Martin remind him anyway, and closed his eyes.

Snow crunched under Jon’s feet as he limped through the street, a packet of files tucked under his arm. The custodian at the Federova Research Centre had been furious at the hour with which he asked for one of their documents, but she had quickly reconsidered when she helpfully told him about the gambling ring she was running.

He still felt terribly guilty about it, but it got a little easier every time. He didn’t know if that made it worse.

A gust of icy wind sliced through his coat, chilling his bones. His nose burned as he breathed down the arctic air. He had been entirely unprepared for this miserable weather and fantasized about his dry hotel and a cup of hot coffee.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling off his glove with his teeth, he took it out and opened the screen.

>aaahhhh!! im burning up!!! help!!!

Attached was a picture of the sun shining in the middle of a blue sky. Smiling, Jon typed a response, the tips of his fingers already uncomfortably numb.

>Be sure to wear plenty of sunblock

He angled his phone at the night sky, blanketed in thick, dreary clouds, taking a picture and sending it.

>oh, yikes. you sure im not the one on vacation?

>You know this isn’t a vacation

>yeah, going on vacation would require you taking that stick out of ur arse

> ):<

>im sorry, it’s a nice stick

>Thank you

>also why are you awake??

>Research. Need I remind you that you were the one who texted me?

>i was expecting you to see it tomorrow!! go to bed!!

>Yes, darling

A light snowfall had begun. Wild animals skittered by in the distance, dark shadows in the corner of his eyes. Tucking his phone away, he continued his trudge, the bruises on his left leg throbbing.

He’d go to bed once he got these documents sorted.

The black ooze caught Jon’s foot and he crashed to the ground, shoulder crunching under his weight. The creature crept up to his knee, squelching as it latched onto his other leg, gelatinous and soggy. Hissing sharply through his teeth, he clawed the dirt, pulling himself forward. His foot had grown numb.

The creature had reached his waist and his fingers sluiced through the wet soil, his body too heavy to move. Pins and needles crawled up his legs before he lost feeling in them entirely. Though it had no mouth, the creature groaned, the sound of satisfaction one might make as it bit down into their meal.

He grabbed his phone before it ate his pocket and made a call. It rang.

It went to voicemail.

The desperate words died on his tongue. He shut his eyes tightly, pressing his face into the ground and breathing in the musty earth.

“Um, hello.”

A slimy tendril crawled along the back of his neck, leaving a damp trail in its wake before creeping into his hair. It would never wash out.

“Just wanted to see if you were awake. Of course, you aren’t, it’s like 4 AM. Not your fault. Nothing new on my end.” The creature squeezed, pressing his ribs against each other. “No, no, that was a lie. I’m currently being attacked by some kind of blob monster. Didn’t want to worry you, sorry. That was stupid of me.”

The scent of sweet organic fumes struck him, and he stiffened, stomach churning.

“I am trying very, very hard not to die right not, but just in case, figured, should give you a call. Seemed like the right thing to do.” He chuckled, which turned into a splutter as the thick sludge began filling his mouth and his nose. “I’m sorry.”

He ended the call, hand falling limp, still cradling his phone. It was swallowed shortly after.

The airport was fit to burst as Jon worked his way through it, suffering bumped shoulders and crying children the whole way. The lingering smell of floor cleaner and cigarette smoke made his world spin on an axis, but he pressed on.

He was home. He was home, and he’d be in his bed within the hour. He pictured changing into his pyjamas and crawling under his cosy bedsheets, being held, as he was shoved through customs by sour faced security guards who wanted to be there even less than him and wanted him to know it.

When he reached the airport lobby, something barrelled into his chest.

“Finally,” said Martin, squeezing Jon hard enough to make his eyes pop. “You were supposed to be in two hours ago.”

“I told you it was delayed,” Jon said, resting his cheek on Martin’s shoulder. He inhaled the scent of his own lemon detergent and had a vision of Martin cycloning through their flat in a cleaning frenzy. “You said you were going to wait at home.”

“I lied and you knew it.”

“I did not."

Martin looked up, a gentle smile on his lips. It trembled, his eyes growing misty, before it cracked. “So, um, I know this is going to sound really crazy, but …”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could just, you know, never, ever leave again? Ever?”

He looked so small and scared as he said it. Jon had done this to him. Again.

Jon pulled him back into his arms. “I can’t promise that. But it sounds nice.”

“Yeah.” Martin sniffed. “And I don’t mean just these little jaunts to the other side of the flippin’ planet where you try and get yourself killed. If you go to Tesco, I'm gonna be on your arse. Right? Got it?”

“Of course.”

“You can still go to the bathroom by yourself, that’s okay.”

“Perfectly reasonable. You're dizzying me.”

Martin pinched his arm and pressed his mouth against Jon’s, slow and hungry, before dragging them towards the exit gate.

“Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

#the magnus archives #tma #themagnuspod #jonmartin #jonathon sims #martin blackwood #fic #fanfiction

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hey-hamlet · 6 years ago

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BNHA AU Ideas : The villain’s little hero

Also on AO3!

TL;DR: All Might, Japan's number 1 villain has a successor. The problem? His successor is a hero hopeful. All Might will stop at nothing to make sure his kid gets to live his dream.

au where all might is a villain raising izuku to be a hero!

quirkless izuku, his backstory is mostly the same

all might decided that hero work had too much red tape. if he was going to take down afo, he needed the freedom to do whatever he had to and he wasnt getting that working within the law

so hes a,,, viilllaaaiinnn?? like. stain. but less murdery, would also save civilians if they were in danger

he has 0 qualms about crippling fake heroes but hes not a fan of murder

nighteye is still his sidekick, he doesnt use his quirk on allmight bc all might h a t e s it

hes kinda on board with "the future is only set in stone because you've seen it now" so he wants the freedom to break fate. but its very useful to get info, so nighteye just uses it on other people

hero to the people villain to literally everyone else

allmights villain costume is reallll similar to his hero costume. just less eye bleeding

he has longer grey hair too.

all mights bronze age costume is basically his villain costume thanks for listening

david shield is still in this story

david agrees w all might and like,,, sneaks him stuff on the downlow

all might told him ab. his quirk because who on earth is gonna believe that one america man about japans worst supervillain?

also melissa is a Soft Young Woman and she is all mights favourite person on this fucking planet until he meets izuku

all might went to ua, only defected after completing his hero training because he wanted to be trained by the people he was going to screw over

izuku has always kinda been a big fan of all might. not openly because hes legally a villain and very much paints himself as one, but his quirk is one of the most amazing things izuku has ever seen

when he looks closer, all might has never let a civilian get hurt once hes been on scene. hes taken hits to protect housing, hes pulled heroes from the line of fire

izuku watches his sports festivals and wonders why? why did all might, the man who happily told the world he'd stop at nothing to keep them safe, suddenly flip sides like that for no reason?

izuku doesnt buy it

izuku's big yellow backpack is a big red one in this universe, hes had it so long its gone pink but he still loves it

the sludge villain

all might saves him and izuku is crying. allmight thinks its because hes scared but izuku just turns to him with this big weepy eye smile and gives him the most genuine thanks he thinks hes ever been given

(its honestly the shock of that that makes him deflate into small might, which has izuku scrambling to find tissues and called an ambulance before he thinks better of calling emergency services for All Might)

izuku is like "Im SO SORRY SIR ARE YOU oK"

and all might is like ",,, b oy"

izuku softly asking

"can,, can i still be someone with out a quirk? can i still make a difference?"

all might doesnt get the chance to anser because there is a massive explosion in the distance

its bakugo!! hes dying

the sludge villain got away bc izuku and all might were chatting a little

izuku hears it and he feels this terrible realization, because its probably not bakugo? but its definitely bakugo because izuku's life is falling to pieces

he sprints towards him and katsuki will n e v e r admit it but he feels hope in that moment because some one is trying to help. even if its just izuku, he wasnt totally left for dead

all might sees this tiny, nervous, quirkless kid run straight up to a villain that almost killed him seconds before to save someone what looks like they'd rather die

and he thinks

"no one deserves one for all more than him"

and allmight, the most wanted villain in japan, maybe the world, jumps in

the heroes look at him and they are scared. if they couldnt take the sludge villain, what is all might going to do to them? but the scariest man in japan, the person parents tell their kids about to stop them from going out at night, blows the sludge villain to tiny pieces and carefully, gently, places the two boys by the heroes

before he vanishes before they can call for backup or even ask why

izuku gets yelled at by the heroes because the heroes are scared and angry they couldnt stop either of the villains and izuku is so overwhelmed that hes crying and he can hardly breathe

bakugo doesnt even yell at him because hes so dazed about everything that happened and he cant make himself yell at this sobbing kid that used to be his friend

(bakugo is holding izukus hand like hes going to crush it but its the only thing keeping izuku present)

izuku is walking home and hes still hicuping and crying because he almost died and the heroes hate him and he feels a hand on his shoulder, and a soft :"its ok now my boy"

he knows its all might but he cant help but hide his face in his shirt and sob

all might gets down so he can look izuku in the eye

"you asked me if you could be someone with out a quirk and i didnt get the chance to answer. my answer? you already are someone. you are someone that inspired me, a villain, to save the day. you are going to be amazing"

and looks him dead in the eye "you'll do amazing things, even with out a quirk. but, you of all people deserve one, and no matter what you chose to do with it, it can be yours. hero, villain or someone in between"

izuku looks at this villain

this painfully thin villain, who just saved his life and who has unimaginable strength

and he throws his arms around his waist and sobs

inko isnt a great mum in this au and she likes to basically pretend izuku doesnt exist

izuku trains a lot and has to make his own food bc his mum just ignores him

he sneaks out at night to clear trash and sneaks back in before dawn to clean the sand from his hair

he smells like saltwater and rust, and he hasnt slept more than 4 hours a night in weeks and katsuki is worried

all might sees him crumbling with a smile stuck on his face and he wants to stop him from self-destructing, but the kid will never learn his lesson until he feels his body give up under what hes doing to it. if all might steps in he'll do it again and again until no one stops him and hes never learnt his limit.

so he waits and he watches while he pretends he cant see the bags under his eyes and pretends that everytime izuku sways on his feet he doesnt feel a jolt of deep panic

did he do this? if he the reason izuku looks like hes falling apart before his eyes?

the kid passes the fuck out and all might tells him off in a soft dad way and izuku cries bc why does this villain care more than his mum does

and all might catches the end of that little mumble, and feels terrible so he pretends he didnt hear and takes him for lunch

they go to a cafe and all might buys izuku the cutest slice of cake and a big ass bowl of katsudon and some fancy fucking tea and covers the kids eyes every time he tries to look at the prices

izuku looks at all might and asks

"are you buying me katsudon with crime money"

and all might looks sheepish and izuku giggles like an idiot and says "dont tell me ill feel bad!!!"

all might grins bc this kid is honestly the only reason he hasnt stabbed a pro hero in a few months bc hes so fucking sweet

he has to carry izuku half the way home bc the kid could barely lift his chopsticks and almost fell asleep in the booth after he finished eating

and allmight, skinny and kinda scary is giving his 15 year old a piggy back and someone says "you're such a good dad!" and he almost coughs up his last lung

izuku mumbles sleepily and hes has the biggest warm and fuzzy feeling and hes going to yell bc hes All Might the No. 1 Villain and this fucking kid is drooling on his sweater but he would die for him

some random stranger on the street commenting on how it was rly fortunate that izuku inherited his adorable smile from his father

all might, abt to burst into tears: whack

allmight is easily flustered even when hes killed a man

he comes home and inko isnt there so he has to like, wake up izuku to get him to open the door and he feels bad bc izuku is a Sleepy Man

izuku mumbles that he cant ever tell if shes at home or not because nothing changes and all might feels a wave of "wait my son isnt being parented enough"

so he makes izuku a cup of tea and tucks him into bed after he has a shower because izuku is His Son Now Inko

hes like

sitting in the living room reading the paper and he hears inko's car and hes like ",,, fuck it im walking out the front door im no coward"

she doesnt even notice and hes going to scream because does she have a brain

inko, spaced out, tired and terrible: oh is the tall man here for izuku :))) thats great :)))

all might is screaming bc"" do you get let weird men into see your tiny son>???? what the fuck???

hes so small inko??? and you?? let random men in?????

all might would yeet her into the sun if he could but his boy needs an actual family member to make going to ua easier

inko is kinda mentally ill. she is depressed and often forgets she has izuku. like shes not always being terrible she just sometimes forget to do basic things

one time she locked izuku out of the house for 10 hours and he had to sleep next to the front door

one month she didnt buy any food so by the end of it he was starving and out of his own money and there was n o t h i n g in the house, but inko would go out to eat every night and lunch and not take her son

allmight is upset bc izuku didnt tell him but izuku is embarrassed. embarrassed that he was forgotten by his own mum, that he couldnt do anything to help her or himself and honestly mad he was so hungry all might noticed bc he didnt want to bug him

it was getting to the point that katsuki actually slipped some change into his bag with a candy bar

#bnha au #bnha #villains hero au #villain all might #all might #midoriya izuku #midoriya #deku #katsuki bakugou #toshinori yagi #yagi #midoriya inko #dadmight #david shield #melissa shield #mha #boku no hero

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

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Choking On Sapphires 73

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Loverman

Summary: Alfie takes revenge to defend Genevieve's honor. He keeps his promise and tells her after he does. Genevieve has a surprising reaction, even taking her off guard as the night leads to more honesty between them than ever before. **Chapter song is Loverman by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds .**

Warnings/Tags: References to past sexual assault. Explicit Sexual Content. Torture. Not graphically described. Language. Protective Alfie. Revenge by Alfie for Gen. Confessions of feelings.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Alfie sat silently in his anger on the drive back to London. He was stone-faced and hearted as he let himself go back to that dark place he knew inside himself to do the things this man deserved to have done to him.

He's careful and planned as always in these endevors. Different cars, guards, not wear his signature hat. He makes his way into the back entrance of the club and down into the cellar. Ollie waits, hands clasped in front of himself as he can tell from the sound of his boss's footsteps that this would be a long and bloody night for him.

"He's in there." Ollie says not making eye contact. Alfie takes off his coat and shirt, leaving his suspenders hanging from his sides, not wanting blood on anything light enough for it to show. "No one saw us. Everything's in the clear." he remarks as an afterthought as he saw Alfie was ready to get to his dark deeds without need of the confirmation. "May I ask-?" he begins.

"No." he states, turning his face towards Ollie and he diverts his gaze on sight.

He stomps into the windowless stone walled room. The man hangs from his tied wrists from a hook in the middle of the dark, bare space. A drain sits in the middle of the floor, the only thing to interrupt the echoing of Alfie's intimidating footsteps is the crates stacked against one wall.

The man squints under the single bulb, a single bead of blood coming down from his brow where he'd been knocked unconscious to be brought to his final resting place. "Who the hell are you?" he asks with a posh accent.

"You can call me, yeah? The wanderin' Jew." he says with a nod, walking slow around the man and thumbing his nose. "But it looks like you are the one that has wandered into the wrong place, mate." he says with a dark tone dripping from his words as he spoke them slowly and certainly.

"I don't know who you think you are or what you think this might bring you but you've got the wrong man."

"Nah." he shakes his head, stopping in front of him and crossing his arms, his brow low and heavy over his eyes, lips disappeared under his mustache as he commands his anger. "I know I've got the right one 'n this is gonna be a judgment of satisfaction. 'At's what 'is is." he raises his chin, his face shadowed by his sharp features and the stark light to obscure his face and make him look even more threatening than his body language already managed to.

"For what? What did I do to you?" he asks, his face still looking pompous somehow."

"You have hurt someone I care about. And I'm the type of man who don't let fings go ya see." he squares up against the man. His chin pushes back in concern for the closeness of Alfie's rough face.

"What do you want? Money? I can get you money. I haven't killed anyone." he says defensively.

"No I've got me own money mate." he says with a huff from his nostrils. "And you innit killed no one? I believe you might've killed a little girls innocence or time or two, yeah? Killed her belief in herself? What sort a man does such a thing." he puts his nose so close to the hanging man's he has to back away for them not to touch.

"Oh, bloody hell. You a pimp of some sort? Look I paid for what I did to those girls."

"No." he says loudly, slapping the man across the face hard and fast. "Looks like you're an even ore miserable excuse for a man that I thought." he backs away, looking at the contents of the room for something he could use.

"Look, a man like what he likes." he says with a nervous chuckle. "How am I supposed to know what I did if you don't tell me?" he asks.

"Fink reaaaaal hard." he says, reaching out, his head lowered and shoulders still to reach for a crow bar laying on top of a crate. "Almost fifteen years ago now. Little girl you threw yourself at. Barely a woman. Her father believed your words over hers. Daft fuckin' prick he is. Just like you." he turns and points the bar of steel at the man.

He sees the man's eyes searching. "Oh." he says, eyes looking away. "Greene." he says quietly.

"Her name is Genevieve." he says, hitting the man in the stomach with the edge of the bar.

"Yeah." the man says, groaning and gasping.

"You remember now?" he asks, an attitude in his voice.

"Yeah." he mutters, eyes hesitant in meeting Alfie's.

"What makes a man do and say such things, eh? To a little girl no less?" the question is mostly rhetorical as he takes the bar to the man's knees. "Now me. I was in the war. I've done some fucked up things meself. But never in me life have I hurt a woman in such a way. What would your mum fink of ya, eh? What an aboslute maggot you are. A fuckin' manky monster. Preying on little girls and lettin' 'em get put out in the streets, tellin' 'em they's broken and you own 'em?" he puts the end of the bar under the man's chin.

"She was young, I knew I could get away with it. She was supposed to be married to me so I thought, why not take it now?"

Alfie puts the curved end of the bar in the man's mouth. "She was not yours to take. And to fink you would've treated her the same or worse if that monster did make her marry you. You are lower than dog shit on the bottom of me shoes you fuckin' tosser."

"Why do you care? That was forever ago." he says, his words muffled.

"Because she'll be my wife and when she saw you tonight she looked like she'd seen a ghost. And nothing scares that woman. 'Specially not some dodgy posh cunt like you." he growls.

The man swallows, drool accumulating in his mouth from the taste of metal and grime from the bar Alfie was slow pressing into his jaw. His brow furrows, trying to think if he knew who this man was. "Durand." he mumbles.

"'At's her name now, yeah. But not for long. Soon it'll be Solomons." he hisses, a demented smile on his face.

"Oh fuck." the man groans, realization as to who he was dealing with hits him.

"Oh fuck is right!" Alfie laughs, jerking the bar back quickly and taking out a few on the man's teeth with it.

He moans and shouts, blood pouring from his mouth.

"Now 'at we know each other. I'm gonna have you tell me everyfing you did to her. 'N for everyfing you did to hurt her I'm gonna hurt you worse. And if I fink you're leaving somefin' out... I'm gonna hurt ya. So best to tell me the truth, eh?" he commands with a tilt of his head. "'Cause you're not gettin' outta 'is room alive, mate."

------

He has the boys take care of the evidence after he kills the man. Or take care of what was left of him. He washes off at his home in London, scrubbing away the evidence and changing, burning his clothes that held any blood on them. He could hear the cries of the man broken by the wet sounds from his throat and lungs filling with his own fluids. The fractured clotted sludge from his insides coming out of holes Alfie had put in his body, the blood that was spat out of his mouth as he pleaded and begged washes down the drain. Alfie's face stays cold, knowing he'd done what needed to be done for the thing that was most precious to him.

He comes back home to you, once again driven in silence. He wasn't feeling regretful in the least, a calm and self-assuredness came over him after he watched the man breathe his last breath. He kept repeating to himself over and over, no one would get away with hurting you as long as he was around.

He comes in quietly to your bedroom, sending Aggie away with a gesture of his hand as he takes off his clothes and gets into the pajamas you'd bought him. He watches you as you sleep, totally at peace, snuggled up to the pillow that was serving as him in his absence.

Light from the moon barely filters through the tops of the windows, he can only make out the faintest traces of your soft skin, his fingers moving down your cheek and jaw slowly, taking in your delicate features at rest, something he hadn't had as much time for as of late. You stir, something he didn't expect and he sighs, watching you stretch like a harmless kitten before rubbing your face.

"Alfie, darling is something the matter?" you inquire with sleep heavy words, propped up on your side in the bed. You can almost make out his face, it's set stiffly, his eyes hidden in shadow as he reaches out and takes your hand into his.

"Nuffin's the matter, my love." he whispers to ease you. You nod and let yourself rest your head back on your pillow, rubbing your thumb over his hand.

"Then come back to bed with me." you insist softly.

"I'm afraid I've got somefin' to tell ya first, Gen. It can't wait 'til mornin'." you see his head shake and hear the solumn tone in his voice. It raises your subdued senses into higher alert.

"What?" you rasp out, sitting up and scooting closer to him.

"I'm sorry to wake you with this love. But there's somethin' I should tell you." he pauses, his words holding grit to them as he forces them out.

"What have you done, Alfie?" you ask, your grip on his hand tightens.

"That man." he begins.

You shake your head. "Alfie, no." you whisper.

"That man at the club tonight." he pauses, taking a moment to audibly swallow. "After we left I had my men follow him." his sentences are paced and well rehearsed. "I had 'im put into the cellar. After you went to bed I left and went back to the club. After some... persuasion... he answered all my questions." he says with a certain, calm tone. "And I killed 'im." he states coldly, a nod and a characteristic grunt afterward.

"Alfie you-" you hurry to move up to your knees, your hand on his shoulder.

"Listen to me, Genevieve." he demands. Your mouth hangs open and you hold your words back with a sigh. "We ain't gotta talk about it. In fact I'd prefer if we forgot either of us ever fuckin' knew." he spits out. "And I know you dinnit want me to do it." he says defensively. Your shoulders slump. "As long as I'm 'round there innit gonna be no one that hurts you, Genevieve, yeah?" he moves his head towards you as you kneel next to him on the bed.

"You didn't need to do that, Alfie." you mutter, slightly worried.

"I wanted to." he states clearly.

"He's of high standing." you tell him, your hand going to his face to make him look at you. "What if you get caught?" he only sees worry for him when he meets your eyes and it hurts his chest.

"I ain't gonna get caught." he responds reassuringly.

"Why did you do it?" you beg for andanswer with your eyes and you shake his face. "I told you not to."

"I had to for what he did to you Genny, you fuckin' know 'at, why you keep pushin' it, eh?" he says holding your upper arm.

"I could've done it if I wanted to." you bite back at him.

"Well now you don't have to, do ya? I took care of it for ya." he says roughly releasing your arm.

"Alfie."

"I don't wannt hear it, Gen."

"Alfie."

"Fuckin' wot?"

You swallow loudly and it breaks his confusing growing anger. He's completely disarmed when you wrap your arms around his neck as his arms move up to hold your back. His hands hit your bare skin. He takes a shaky inhale at the feeling of you so warm and soft in his arms. You were something he was compelled to protect, this version of you. This soft and heartbroken woman was his to keep safe.

"No one's ever done anything like that for me before." you whisper into his ear. Your soft tone blindsiding him. You pull back slowly, your lips dragging from his ear to mouth. Your eyes were stinging with confusing tears as you wanted to be angry and you also felt so gut wrenchingly moved by his tone and willingness to exact an act of revenge when he knew you wouldn't. "You're going to keep trying to protect me even though I tell you not to aren't you?"

"Are ya just now figurin' 'is out?" he asks, somehow makign the words feel like they raked across your inner thighs. "No one's gonna hurt ya and get away wif it." You plant a soft kiss against his lips, his words sending direct blows to your chest. "Ever." he states defiantly before pushing your lips together again, exhaling harshly as one hand moves to the side of your head.

"Why would you be so reckless?" you whimper out through his biting kisses. "You can't be so brash," you say weakly as he groans into you. "You can't let them find out you did it, Alfie." you whine into his mouth, his hands kneading into your back as you move across his lap, straddling him.

"No one's gonna know, love." he sucks on your neck for a moment before moving his mouth to your ear. "I promise." you murmur against his words, wanting to believe them desperately.

"Don't let them take you from me." you rasp out in a broken breath as his teeth graze your collar bone. His tongue drags across the place he was kissing as he grunts as your words hit him. He stops and holds your back and hip tightly, looking into your eyes and finding them threatening to cry. He lets his eyes shut for a moment as he collects himself. He holds you tightly and moves you onto your back gently, keeping your body close to his. His knees are on the bed as he leans over you, the arm that was holding your back still there securely as his other hand holds your face. He leans in and looks over your soft, wanting expression. He's never seen this look on your face before.

"Is that why you didn't want me to do it?" he whispers, looking at your lips as they tremble with subdued worry. Your eyes widen and he can feel your shakey inhale.

"I cared about you, not him." you admit with a soft shake of your head, his thumb rubs your cheek as he sighs down at you. "He was too high profile to kill. People will come looking for him." he stays quiet, looking at you everywhere but your eyes. You move your hand, your fingers touching his face like he was yours in tender caresses. "I don't care that you killed him. I care that you'll get caught." you gulp and let out a small whine as you hold back tears that have sat behind your eyes for far too long. Your hands are light and trembling as they press to his chest. "They've taken too much from me already." you say with a slight shake of your head, you wrap your hands tightly around the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer. "Don't you fucking dare let them take you from me too, Solomons." you order through clenched teeth, your eyes sparkling with tears in the low light.

"Nothin' is ever going to take me from you again, Genevieve." he says softly, holding your face, your hand on top of his now. "I should've never left to begin wif." he admits with defeat in his voice, he kisses you hard and you want to sob. "Fuckin' wanker I was." he says between kisses as he feels you smile against his lips.

"They can't take you from me, Ari, I wouldn't be able to stand it." you confess into the dark, his lips pressing into your cheeks, lips stinging from the salt of your silently falling tears as you speak.

"No one's takin' me nowhere, pet." he promises with a gravelly tone, hands moving to your chest, hands desperate and firm against you as his kisses were planted with no rhyme or reason. "I'm stayin' wif you, yeah? Always." he moves down, lips fast to your chest. "Not even death is gonna make me leave you Chanah. You understand?" he asks with a harshness to his voice that makes your heart flutter.

"Stay alive. Stay with me. I can't have him take you away. I can't. I-" your words are rushed out in your desperation for him to understand.

"Shhhh." he presses his lips against yours, hands now up your gown and moving over your hips. "No one's takin' me, love. I'm yours. None of 'ems worth shedding a tear over. He's dead. I killed him for you. I'd kill anyone to avenge ya, love. Anyfin'. Everyone. You're mine and I'm your keeper now. No one hurts you and gets away with it anymore. No one." With the desperate words come more desperate kisses and hands. Your clothes quickly removed and the air heavy with a twisted, romantic agony that serves both of your dark sides. You are filled with a heartbroken lust for each other, as if it could be the last time you had him in your bed. As if he could be taken away come morning, you loved him.

"Ari I love you. Please, darling." you pant out, so many emotions rushing through you, your body feeling on edge and tense, his skin the only thing that warmed you and eased your suffering.

His lips suck against you, taking in the buds of your breasts, the softness of your stomach as he nips at your thighs, parting them and resting himself between them. "And I more than love you, Chanah. Never you worry that beautiful mind over any other man. It's all my burden to bear for you now." he huffs out, his mouth spilling out words without much thought or consequence as your legs locked around him, him grinding himself against your center.

"How dutifully you love me, Ari. How sick we are for each other. How mad have we let ourselves be for love?" you moan as he pushes into you, your sincere words being expressed physically by you both. "To have let ourselves become so dependent on another?"

"I am as demented as a man can be." he pants, lips moving back to your own, a heavy hand on your thigh, the other by your head on the bed, latched into your hair. "I will serve you as long as I live in this fuckin' insanity, my love. I no longer wish to be called sane since lovin' you. There is no going back to who we were before now is there? Only this madness. Only us." he pumps into you with careless thrusts, your mouths open and molded against one another, speaking hurried and passionate words as you shared the same breath.

"Only us." you moan out, hands clutching to his back. "Only you darling. There's only you now." you cry out, as your eyes squeeze shut and tears break through. Your life was now one you felt. He had taken a life in the name of your honor, to help you heal a part of yourself that you couldn't do on your own. There would never again be another Prittance to hurt you. Alfie would never leave you alone because of something another man did to you. He would always believe you over any man's word. He would never hurt you, abuse or use you in the ways other men would. You were safe now. You were with a man who would kill for you and you the same for him. You were both irreversibly connected in this love you'd found. It felt like madness. Like you were losing yourself, something becoming unhinged as you let yourself open up to the possibilities. You didn't need any sort of ceremony to define it for you, in this moment your bodies as one and your breath shared you were reconciled to the time your souls had spent apart. He had given you something you didn't know you needed. He gave you himself, fully, making your hurt his. He would carry your pain with you, and it had been so lonely and heavy all these years.

"You are mine, my love. Mine." he groans through gritted teeth against your throat. "My hunger for you knows no bounds. I want all of you. Good and bad. As long as it's you I need it." he moans, both your voces lilting higher.

"I'm yours. All yours. Take me." your voice sounds like you're begging, and maybe you were. You were finally loved enough to give yourself over to it. You let it engulf you, drowning willingly as his hips grew faster and harder, the sweat and tears from you both dripping across your skin, you could almost taste the intensity of it as your lips rhythmicly pushed againgst his head and shoulder, whimpering your revelation to him. With your eyes closed, your face feeling the brush of his hair and beard, you bask in the smell of him, soap and musk, your tongue reaching out to take him in with every sense.

Your mouth open and panting, taste the sting of salt against your lips as the sounds that emanated from you were no longer voluntary, both of you sounding angry as your bodies found their end. The painful night you'd both had concluded where it should, it each other's arms. You lie together in a tangled mess, your skin pinked and now covered in bumps as the chill of the air hits you before he encases you in a cave of covers.

He lay across your chest, your fingers combing through his damp hair as you felt his breath fan across your neck where his rough cheek was planted on your sternum. "Alife?" you breathily whisper.

He pushes the covers back, exposing yourselves to the darkness. "Mmm?" is the grunt he manages, his muscles now sending signals to loosen and shut down at the weight of the day they had carried.

"I know people think me mad." you begin, your voice heavy with honesty, a softness that only comes with true vulnerability is laced within it and his ears pick up on it the moment your swollen lips part to speak. "I have been at times. I'll admit. But it was only temporary. For the purpose of completing something." your voice trails and his blue eyes catch the light, looking over your face cast in shadows. "But I've never let myself need anyone else. Ever. Not my mother, not Altar, no one." you pause and sigh, wetting your lips as you projected your eyes down to his face, set in an open and honest pose against your skin. "It..." you let out a small noise of discomfort and he raises his head to get a better look at you. "It frightens me." you confess, your brow furrowed, chest now rising and falling slowly beneath him, the rush of the deed now passed, but the emotions still moving frantically in your mind.

"Fear has it's place." he says with an agreeable nod. "But that place is not our love." he assures you simply, a kiss to your forehead. "C'mere my precious flower." he says, grunting and moving to his side and taking you into his arms tightly. He speaks quietly to you, his hand holding your chin up as your face wants to bury itself in the warm and thick seclusion of his chest. "Know you have no reason for fear when it comes to me. I will not leave you, as I know you need me as well. We wouldn't purposely do irreversible damage to something that has come to us in such perfect condition would we?"

"Never." you whisper in response.

He presses his lips to your head as it shakes gently back and forth in support of your sentiment. "You are a strong woman, Chanah. The strongest that I know. Tenacious to a fault." he smiles against your hair and closes his eyes, letting you retreat to the safety of his embrace. "The only fear I know now is losing you. And it is frightening, have no doubt. To make yourself reliant on another. As we both know us humans are so terribly flawed." he sighs. "But isn't that what makes it so astoundin' love? That we, in all our imperfection, found somethin' that we fear. We were not wholly human before. There is no man without fear, for without it he isn't a man. But now we know it. Now we are so frightfully human we are aware of how fragile we are in actuality." his voice is soft and smooth, the certainty of his words, some you had said to him before calm you. He was so eloquent in his rough delivery of sentiment to you. But the coarse voice made the brilliant words that much more charming to you. "You have taught me, yeah? In all your beauty and art, that the messy parts of us are what make us human. And our love is that pet, it is messy. It's only perfect in that it was made for us. Nothin' else comes so easy. Not with people like us. You're dramatic, I'm stubborn as an old 'orse and we're both prone to outbursts at the expense of those 'round us." he let's out a tiny huff of a laugh. "But it's who we are. We ain't changin' it now." he lets out a gruff laugh and he feels your shoulder shift as you smile against him, face nuzzling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you fully, pulling your body against his fully.

"I wouldn't want you to change." you murmur against him.

"'N 'at, see? 'At's love. Ya puttin' up with me, me puttin up wif you. Although I do say I got the much betta bargain out the two, love." he grins and squeezes you, pressing his face into your hair. "I love ya to pieces, Genny. I do. To the point of madness. Always. Never question it. Ya got nothin' to fear when it comes to me lovin' you, yeah?"

You nod and move your arm to around his waist. "I've never loved someone like I love you." you admit, your eyes shut and feeling the soft scratch of his chest hair against your face.

"Nor I you." he whispers in agreement.

"And you aren't frightened by it?"

"Why would I be frightened if you are the one keepin' me heart? I know no one more perfect for such a job."

You hum happily. "I'm not perfect. But I am yours." you say, kissing his exposed skin.

"You need your rest." he hums, feeling his body settle and relax against yours. "No other reason for you to say such nonsense as you not bein' perfect."

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber @anrm1 @ultrablackwidower @tinastarkandco @arrowswithwifi @marvelgirl7 @they-are-not-just-stories @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes

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pinkletterday · 6 years ago

Text

A Stitch In Time Ch1

Pairing: Oliver Queen/ Barry Allen

Rating: Mature

Tags: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, so much angst, some bad jokes, Oliver Queen' trauma conga line, Oliver and Iris friendship, alt Arrow Season 3, untagged plot twist.

Summary: Oliver hadn't expected his world to come crashing down when he had sent his boyfriend off to see the Particle Accelerator launch. All he can do now is hold on to faith as Barry sleeps on - until he witnesses a miracle.

He should have known that even miracles come at a price.

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

Oliver knew it was a bad idea to start necking in public view at the metro station but he couldn't help himself. They were lucky it was late and the other stragglers waiting for the eleven pm train were few. Besides, this was the last taste and feel of his boyfriend he was going to get till New Year's and he already looked unfairly adorable in his peacoat with his windswept hair.

"You are so bad at getting rid of me," Barry laughed as Oliver kissed his way down his jaw.

"Yes," he murmured, licking the shell of Barry's ear, pleased at the shiver it elicited, "that's clearly what Im trying to do."

"Cant stand the sight of me already, huh?"

Oliver cupped his face and kissed him deeply. They were both panting when he drew away, thumb tenderly brushing the kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea."

Their breath misted between them as leaned their foreheads together. "Mmm. This is a terrible plan," Oliver grumbled. "I hate sleeping without you."

"Hey, It's just for a few days," Barry pecked his lips soothingly. "Should be enough time to break the news to Joe about who I'm dating -"

" - I'm sure he'll be thrilled -"

" - and smooth things over so that when you fly in to meet him at New Year's, he'll be willing to give you a chance," Barry grinned at him. "I mean, he'll grunt and glare and do his whole cop Dad routine but he won't -"

" - go for his gun?" Oliver deadpanned.

"Don't be so dramatic," said Barry, pulling him firmly in by his coat lapels. "Joe's not unreasonable, just protective."

Oliver quirked a brow. "You forget. I have some experience with dating the kids of cop Dads."

"True," Barry nodded solemnly, "but your experience is coloured by having dated both kids at once."

"Touché," Oliver conceded, "I'm sure that will be a point in my favour when it comes up."

Barry titled his head, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Are you actually afraid, Mr. Scourge of Starling City?"

"Is that my new nickname? Shame, The Arrow was kinda cool."

"No, but seriously," said Barry, entwining their fingers in reassurance. "You have nothing to be afraid of. My Dad likes you and so does Iris. You'll win over Joe too, in time."

Warmth suffused him, as it always did, at the unwavering faith in his lover's eyes, banishing the winter chill. He raised their interlocked hands and pressed a kiss on Barry's knuckles, reflecting that softness back at him. "I hope so. I want to be someone you can take home to your cop Dad."

"You should have thought of that before starting a career in vigilanteism," said Barry dryly.

"Definitely a misstep, I see that now," Oliver nodded.

They grinned at each other, insulated from the night's chill in their own small pocket of warm happiness, surrounded by the sludge and sleet of the city. A tendril of fear curled in Oliver's chest, some part of him still paranoid and disbelieving that he got to have this at all.

He cradled the side of Barry's face, protectiveness rising. "Be careful," he told him seriously.

"Of what? Central is not the crazy town full of masked criminals and crimefighters," Barry rolled his eyes and raised a brow pointedly at him. "Besides, it's a little rich coming from the man who nearly coded in the Arrow Cave two nights ago. You're the one who needs to take better care of yourself."

"If I do, will you stop calling the foundry that?," said Oliver, resigned.

"Nope," Barry kissed the palm that cupped his cheek, eyes dancing.

Something of the lingering worry must have shown in his eyes however. His partner's face softened. "Don't worry, Oliver. I'm just going to watch Harrison Wells give a speech, witness the revolution of science as we know it and then go home with Iris and eat Joe's Christmas turkey. What kind of trouble could I possibly get into?"

The distant rumble beneath their feet announced the arrival of the train. "Barry Allen, if there's one thing I've learned about you over the past year," he said, a wry smile tugging at his mouth, "it's that if there's trouble to be had, you'll find it."

...

He was on the island again, stones scraping and bloodying his bare feet as he scrabbled up the rocky slope from the beach. Barry grinned at him in excitement from above. "Oliver, hurry up! We have to catch the man in the lightning!"

Storm clouds menaced from overhead and dread sank deep into his bones. He tried to climb faster with little progress. "Barry, it's not safe!" he yelled, but the wind that buffeted his face carried his words away. "Wait for me!"

Barry merely waved and disappeared over the hill. Oliver belly-crawled to the top to see him running through the trees, too far for him to ever catch up, but he had to try.

"Barry, please!," he called as he ran, jumping over tree roots, struggling to keep him in his sights as the driving sheets of rain obscured his vision. Thunder split the air, drowning his cries and Barry continued to out-pace him, his carefree laughter ringing eerily throughout the forest.

Something caught his foot and he tripped, falling face-down in the mud. He twisted around, trying to free himself, and came face to face with Shado.

She had emerged half-way from the earth, covered in mud and silt, her once-beautiful face sunken and waxy in death. "You left me to rot," she spat at him, "now you're going to stay with me."

He twisted and kicked out in horror but her grip was a vice around his ankle. Lightning speared down from the sky, striking the tree above him with a deafening crack. He rolled out of the way in time to avoid the enormous branch that crashed to the ground, crushing Shado back into the earth. "No!" he cried. He had never meant her to die again.

Lightning flashed once more and suddenly Slade stood over him, a huge sword pointed at his chest. An arrow was potruding out of one eye, blood streaming down his face. "You killed her, kid," he snarled. "You killed her again.

His elbow sank into the silt as he scrambled backwards - and then the rest of him was also sinking, trapped. "Oliver!" Barry's voice echoed above him as the bog dragged him down, the rain pelting into his mouth, choking him, "Oliver!"

"Oliver. Wake up."

He shot upright with a gasp, hand ready to land a nerve-strike to the other person's neck a split second before he recognized Iris. Trying to calm his breathing, he put his hand down slowly, heart juddering against his ribs.

The hospital room was dark except for the light above the bed, illuminating Barry's unconscious form, the quiet only broken by the steady beep of the heart monitor and the susurration of the ventilator. Iris was eyeing him in concern, dark curtain of hair brushing his arm as she leaned over him.

"Hey," Oliver rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Eight. Dad'll be back soon. I came straight from work. Did you eat anything?" she asked briskly, bustling around the room.

Oliver shrugged, wincing at the now-permanent kink in his neck. "Grabbed something from the hospital cafeteria. Surprisingly good pudding cups."

She gave him an unimpressed look and handed him a Jitters pastry bag. He stuffed a croissant into his mouth gratefully.

"Have the doctors been? Anything new?" She leaned over Barry worriedly, pushing his hair back from his face as though searching for signs of change.

"Not since you called this afternoon, no."

She sighed, then forced a bright smile. "So," she said, dragging a chair beside him. "Did you two have fun today?"

"Oh, yeah. We had a busy morning," said Oliver, forcing an answering brightness in turn, "I helped the nurse give him a bath and a shave. Don't get me wrong, I love the man, but scruff is not a good look on him," he shook his head ruefully.

Iris giggled. "Yeeah. Barry just can't grow facial hair. It's the bane of his life," her grin turned wicked. "Did he tell you about the time he came home from college with a moustache?"

"No, really?" Oliver snorted in surprise.

"It was awful. He looked like a used car salesman from the seventies," she said in glee. "Dad and I couldn't keep a straight face. He was so mad!"

He put his pastry down to look seriously at her. "Please tell me you have pictures."

'Pfft, please. I ran for the camera the moment he walked in the door." Iris broke into fresh giggles at Oliver's admiring expression.

"You are an evil person."

She gasped. "You hear that Barry?," she said in mock offence, "He's calling me evil. You gonna take that lying down?"

They both froze, staring wide-eyed at each other. Then burst into almost hysterical laughter.

"Oh my God," Oliver buried his face in his hands, "that was awful."

Iris swatted his shoulder, still shaking with mirth. "Excuse you, it was an amazing pun. Don't you think so, Barry?"

"You see?," Oliver leaned toward Barry conspirationally, "Evil."

They subsided, smiling. Iris took Barry's hand. "You think he can hear us?," she asked wistfully, playing with his limp fingers, "The forums say they can hear and understand sometimes but can't respond -"

"It's a Scale 3 coma, Iris. Brain activity in that state usually indicates complete unconsciousness." He had, in the last three weeks, researched the subject with a diligence he had failed to apply to any of his abortive careers at Ivy League universities. He knew Iris had too.

"Doesn't mean he's not dreaming," she said stubbornly, "I know the doctors say it's unlikely because he doesn't have a sleep-wakefulness cycle but they also don't have a clue why he's flatlining and seizing at the same time..."

There was another pause, both of them holding their breath. They had fallen into a pattern of not talking about the seizures more than necessary, first beause they were terrifying but also out of an unspoken shared superstition that the mere mention of them would precipitate an onset.

But the moments went by and Barry continued to be still, the heart monitor beeping steadily.

Oliver finally broke the silence. "Well, if he can hear us, he's probably horrified at how much blackmail material we're going to be exchanging while he's getting his beauty sleep," he said, teasing a wan smile out of Iris. "And pretty bored, cause I've been reading QC's financial reports and quarterly projections to him."

"Wow. Sounds riveting."

"He thought it was a real snooze, actually," said Oliver solemnly.

Iris broke into a peal of laughter. Oliver grinned back, pleased with himself, before his eyes fell on the doorway where -

- Joe West was standing frozen.

"Detective West," he stood up from his seat, heart sinking. Well damn. After three weeks of painstakingly gaining the man's grudging approval too.

Iris turned around quickly as well. "Dad, we were just -"

But a smile was creasing his normally forbidding countenance, turning into a grin that transformed his face into a sunshine warmth that reminded Oliver of Barry's own. "A real snooze," the detective repeated, giggling.

The laughter that rippled among the room momentarily alleviated the pall that hung over it. For a few minutes they sat around Barry and chatted easily, occasionally talking to him too. It felt as though they were sitting in the Wests' living room having the normal family conversation he and Barry had envisioned during the holidays. Before the Accelerator explosion.

Unfortunately, it was short lived.

The machines suddenly went haywire the exact same moment as the hospital lights started to flicker and die.

"Oh God, not again!"

Barry began to convulse and jerk on the bed. Oliver raced to hold him down but he kept thrashing like some ghastly marionnette pulled by invisible, torturous strings. Dimly he could hear Joe calling for help and Iris crying Barry's name over the terror drumming in his ears. The medical team streamed into the room, pushing him away and he let himself be shunted outside, reduced to watching helplessly.

"Barry!"

Iris was being restrained by a nurse, still shouting. Oliver watched numbly as Joe pulled her into his arms, face as haggard with shock as he felt. She buried her face in her father's chest and fell apart, the way he didn't know how to do anymore.

...

Henry Allen's face was always hopeful whenever he saw him. Oliver tried not to resent him for it, because having to extinguish it every time was awful.

"Is Barry -?" It was the first question that passed his lips the moment he picked up the phone, almost before he sat down and he slumped and aged a little more every time Oliver shook his head wearily.

But like his son, Henry was resilient of spirit, composing himself in short order. "It's been a while, Oliver," the man's smile and tone betrayed no accusation but Oliver still felt a stab of guilt.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Dr. Allen," he rubbed the weariness from his eyelids. "Barely had any time between Barry and my mother and wrangling the board at Starling."

"That wasn't a complaint. Just concern. And when are you going to start calling me Henry?" the older man asked in mock-stern humour.

Oliver huffed a laugh and relaxed. "Sorry, Henry."

"You shouldn't worry about me," Henry's blue eyes were painfully understanding, "Iris has been stopping by regularly, keeping me in the loop."

"I'm glad. She's been amazing," said Oliver warmly. Because she really was. But he had come to talk of a less pleasant topic. "Speaking of in the loop, Harrison Wells has spoken to Joe."

Henry's jaw tensed. "What does that man want?"

No one who loved Barry had much sympathy for the architect of the Particle Accelerator explosion, paralyzed and humiliated as he was. Even Henry Allen, as kind a man as had ever lived, couldn't forgive what he had done to his only child. Oliver hadn't thought he was the kind of man who would want to deck a man in a wheelchair but his knuckles itched every time he saw him on TV. Only the thought that this was probably how many Starling residents felt about his mother sobered him.

Still, objectively speaking, Wells's plan seemed pragmatic. Oliver didnt need a medical degree to know that the doctors were at a complete loss and with every seizure they came that much closer to losing Barry.

Henry mulled this over at the end of his explanation. "What do you think?," he asked Oliver.

"It does make sense," he said begrudgingly. "Barry's not getting better. We can't not try everything we can. And it would make me a hypocrite to begrudge someone trying to find redemption for a terrible mistake."

"But what do you think?"

The fact that Barry's father had grown to value his judgment so much never failed to catch Oliver off-guard and humble him. He looked the older man directly in the eye through the dirty glass that separated them.

"I don't trust him as far as I can throw him."

Henry searched his face for a long moment. Finally he jerked his head in a nod of understanding. "But you'll be watching him?"

Oliver's own jaw tightened. "You can count on it."

***

"You have to come home."

He ignored Felicity, continuing to stare at Barry's lax wrist in his hands, feeling the pulse beat humming-bird fast and thready, always seeming thin enough to dissolve.

She sighed. "I know you don't want to -,"

"I can't," he interjected firmly

" - but it's been five weeks. The Mirakuru is still out there and we still have no clue who the man in the skull mask is even though Digg and I have been shaking down as many known drug dealers as we can in the Glades. Isabel Rochev has been hounding us with calls...," Felicity sighed again, and this time he could hear the exhaustion in her own voice. A gentle hand laid on his shoulder. "The city is heading toward some kind of implosion, like with Merlyn last year. We can't let that happen again."

It was too much. Then let it implode, he thought savagely. Why do I have to be the one to save the goddamn city. What makes me so special? Haven't I paid enough for my family's sins?

His grip on Barry's hand tightened convulsively. The truth was that he was terrified to let go for fear that the tremulous thread anchoring Barry to life would snap. He should have known it would end this way. Should have known better than to hope, should have pushed Barry away when he had the chance before he let him down too...

"Why would you want to be with me?," he asked, searching Barry's eyes that still looked at him with such steady faith. "I failed the city. I failed everyone." Especially you.

"You didn't fail everyone. We helped people. You gave people a chance to save themselves. Gave them hope," Barry cupped his cheek tenderly. "Gave me hope."

"It wasn't enough," but Oliver couldn't help turning his face into the comfort of that hand. "I wasn't enough. I'm no hero, Barry."

"Maybe not. But what you are is a good man willing to risk everything to keep people safe," said Barry. "Maybe that's what the city needs, more than a hero. And for that," his hand curled around Oliver's, "you will always be a hero to me."

"Oliver," Digg's urgent voice made him look up sharply. "There's been a bombing downtown. Three people dead. We have to go back now."

Oliver nodded and stood up, making himself release Barry's hand.

I'm going to try and be the man you deserve.

He felt the shift from Oliver Queen to the Arrow as he squared his shoulders, emotion replaced by cold calculation. "I need to call Iris. Felicity, find out all you can about the bomber. Digg, get the jet ready. We'll plan en route."

***

"How's Barry?"

Felicity had the answer automatically ready for Oliver's habitual question almost before he had finished clattering down the stairs to the Arrow Cave, Sara at his heels.

"Still stable. At least according to the video feed," she waved at the monitor that displayed the STAR Labs cortex, where her friend was hooked up to a depressing number of machines. "I feel kinda bad about hacking into that. Cisco and Caitlin really do seem to be doing their best to take care of him."

"I'm not willing to take any chances," said Oliver, hanging up his bow and divesting himself of his quiver almost carelessly, his eyes trained on the screen.

A derisive scoff sounded behind him. "Well that's a big fat lie."

Felicity tensed as Oliver rounded on Sara. The small blonde was unfazed by his looming. She continued to put away her gear without looking at him, ire emanating from her own movements.

He turned around in time to unfortunately catch Felicity sharing a nervous glance with Diggle, who immediately adopted his stolid dealing-with-Oliver's-dramatics stance.

Oliver took a deep breath and cocked his head with an even expression. "Something you want to tell me?" he said, with that "definitely-not-bristling-I-am-a-calm-rational-human-being" demeanor he used when defending some exceptionally stupid decision.

Diggle, as usual, opened with the reasonable tack that invariably put Oliver on the defensive. "Oliver, we know how hard this has been on you. We care about Barry too. But it's been three months -"

"I'm not giving up on him!"

"We're not asking you to!" Sara exclaimed. "But you're being sloppy! You're distracted, you're barely rested, you're taking stupid risks and getting hurt more than usual, which is really saying something," she accentuated her point by slapping her glove against his chest. Felicity flinched. Oh boy.

"I'm doing the best I can," Oliver gritted mutinously.

"Don't you get it, Ollie? You don't have to give up on Barry but you're not helping anyone like this!" Sara got right in his face and Felicity inched her chair further back into the safety of her computer bank. "Slade's got us like sitting ducks, Roy's out of control and whatever issue you're having with Moira right now, our families are in danger! Starling needs you!"

Colour had risen in Oliver's cheeks, his eyes glinting dangerously like he was about fire right back at Sara. But then the fight seemed to deflate right out of him. He slumped, the sheer exhaustion he was fighting a losing battle with weighing down his broad shoulders. It made Felicity's heart hurt. "I'm already doing all I can think of," he sighed, running a hand over his face, "what more do you want me to do?"

Sara stepped back. Her expression had softened but her voice was still stern and unyielding. "If there's anything I've learned while I've been gone, it's that to protect people you have to focus on what's in front of you. You can't have your head in Central City if you're going to fix the problems here," Felicity winced a little at her bluntness. "Otherwise you'll lose both."

***

Despite years of yearning for its comfort, the Queen mansion had never really felt like home after he had returned. Now it was merely a hollow shell preparing to pass into the hands of strangers, his failures dogging him with each echoing footstep.

"Thea is out there hurt or worse because of one person - and it's not Slade Wilson," Roy's eyes burned in his gaunt face. "I believed in you."

"How could you not tell me Malcolm Merlyn was my father?" Thea's eyes were full of accusation and betrayal as she curled into herself. "I believed in you."

"I'd say they'd lost faith in your leadership, but that would imply there was any," said Isabel snidely, vicious victory sparking in her eyes. "Maybe you should have focused a little less on your...evening activities."

"Your father had a weakness for beautiful, strong women."

Even his own room felt like it belonged to someone else, except for the framed picture of himself and Barry sitting on the mantlepiece.

They were both wearing ugly Christmas sweaters that Barry had insisted were traditional, snuggled on the couch in the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. Barry was wrapped in his arms with a look of supreme contentment on his face while Oliver pressed a tender kiss to his tousled head tucked under his chin. He had spent that night at the mansion for the first time, smugly relishing making love in the bed of Oliver's adolescence. Waking up to Barry's drowsy half-lidded gaze had filled him with a contentment he hadn't known was possible.

"I'm so happy I'm frightened," Oliver confessed, his face buried in Barry's neck.

"Why are you frightened?" Barry reached back to card his fingers through Oliver's hair.

He tightened his arms around him. "Of what would happen if I lost you."

Barry turned around to face him, smile sleep-soft and sweet. "You could never lose me."

But you lied, thought Oliver, bile rising in his throat as he stared at the picture in his hands. You left me too.

The rage he hadn't realized had been simmering just beneath the surface suddenly blazed white-hot. He hurled the picture at the wall and swept an arm across the entire mantlepiece, clocks, curios and pictures joining the shattered frame on the floor. The memories of failure and betrayal chased him one after the other as he destroyed every memento in the room in a red haze, kicking, ripping, smashing.

The room was littered in glass shards and debris when he was finally spent, sliding along the wall to drop limply onto the floor. At his feet, Barry's and his happy smiles gazed up at him from the broken frame.

***

Oliver had had this nightmare many times before, replaying that night again and again until he was crying for it to end. But those had taken place in the darkness and freezing wind of the island, the pale torchlight illuminating Sara's and Shado's terrified faces before Ivo shot Shado in the head. Sometimes both her and Sara. Over and over.

Now the harsh beams of the truck's headlights and Oliver's own concussion made everything swim in amber, and the voices begging for their lives belonged to his mother and sister.

"Choose!" No. This was just another nightmare. It had to be. Please God. Please.

But the ropes cutting into his wrists felt very real and part of him knew there would be no merciful awakening from this, any more than there had been the last time.

"Let me make the right choice now! Kill me! It's me you want!" he pleaded desperately, ignoring Thea's and his Mom's renewed cries. I can't take this anymore. Please stop hurting them. Let me die and be with Barry. Let it all end.

"I will kill you," sneered Slade, drawing his gun from his belt and cocking it. "Only more slowly than you would like. I confess, I enjoyed how much pain you've been in watching your lover die by inches," he gloated over Oliver's face and the thought of the deranged man standing over Barry's unconscious form sent ice through him, "But it wasn't enough. Despite everything, you still keep clinging to a strand of hope, however thin. Hope that I can never have." Slade straightened, turning back to his mother and sister. "No, Oliver. I need you to taste true despair. I need you to suffer by my own hand, not just fate's."

"And so...," he laid the barrel of the gun over little Thea's head in a mockery of benediction, ignoring her face soaked in tears. "Choose."

"Please," Oliver choked. "Don't."

"Choose!" Over his mother's head this time.

The fury erupting from his chest was a living thing, searing across his veins, raging to rip Slade's throat out, to feel the satisfying crunch of his neck breaking, to stab an arrow clean through his other eye socket with his bare hands. Yet, the ropes still held.

"CHOOSE!"

But Moira was struggling to her feet, head held proudly aloft despite the arms wrenched behind her back.

"Mom?" No. No no no no no. "What're you doing?"

"There is only one way this night can end," said Moira, voice steady through a throat raw with tears. She turned to Slade, composed and dignified even with the sweat and grime streaking her hair and face, "we both know that, don't we, Mr. Wilson?"

Oliver heard himself and Thea pleading as though from far away. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. He suddenly remembered his Dad in the raft, pointing the gun at his own temple.

"Close your eyes, baby!" Moira implored, but Oliver was transfixed.

Slade seemed taken aback. "You possess great courage," he said deferentially, lowering his gun and turning away. For one wild moment, it seemed as though she might be spared - but then he saw Slade's hand grasp the hilt of his sword.

Thunder rumbled, reverberating the ground beneath his feet. Oliver remembered distantly that there had been a storm on the island that night as well.

Thea screamed as Slade whirled around, the blade flashing silver.

And the world turned gold.

The flare of incredible light seared his eyes, static raising every hair on his body. A moment later, a sonic boom knocked him sideways as something immense cleaved the world in two.

Oliver was only stunned for a bare moment before his reflexes took over, rolling him to his feet almost in the same motion. He shook his head, clearing his vision to see Slade fallen against a tree some ten feet away, trying to struggle to his feet. His mother and sister were nowhere to be seen except for the ropes on the ground.

Panic thudded wildly in his chest. "What did you do?," he yelled at Slade, "What did you do to them?"

But the other man's seemed just confused as he staggered around almost foolishly.

"Thea! Mom!" Oliver yelled. He suddenly realized his hands were untied.

Slade seemed to finally regain his bearings and rounded on him, his face a rictus of fury. "SEARCH THE PERIMETER!" he roared into the darkness. "BRING THEM TO ME!"

Something gleamed on the ground a few feet away. A bare flicker of Slade's eye confirmed that he had seen it too. Their eyes locked on each other for a milisecond before they both lunged sideways for the gun.

Oliver's knee landed in Slade's gut the same time as Slade's armoured knuckles caught him in the jaw. Stars burst across his vision but he hooked his ankle around the other man's leg without a moment's pause. They rolled around in the dirt, scrabbling for the weapon until Slade managed to pin Oliver to the ground, closing his preternaturally strong hand around his throat.

He knew what it was when he felt it this time, the earth rumbling beneath him a second before gold light filled his vision, incandescent enough to blind him through his eyelids, to burn him - but it only enveloped him in a gentle warmth before the world tilted.

The ground under his feet turned to pressurized air, locking him in place as the rest of the world rushed past in a blur, a tidal wave giving the illusion of being dragged into the sea. But he was not grasping for breath and his eyes did not sting; he was engulfed in a warm, secure bubble as the golden rods of light streamed on either side of him, of them, a masked person with lightning eyes -

- and suddenly it all stopped, slamming the breath from his lungs, the ground hard beneath his feet. The thunder clap rang in his ears before he had finished falling to his knees.

It had all happened between one blink and the next. He grasped the earth, disoriented. Only it wasn't earth at all but concrete.

"Whoa, easy there," said an oddly vibrating voice. A gloved hand laid on his back. Oliver flinched and rolled away from it, gaining his feet again.

A tall, almost lanky man in a form-fitting suit was silhouetted against the backdrop of...city lights? They were on a rooftop?

"Who are you?" Oliver demanded, falling into a defensive stance despite still fighting nausea. "Where are we?"

"We're on the roof of Verdant" said the man again in that mechanically resonant voice. There was something oddly familar about it. "Don't worry, your mother and sister are safe. I left them at the Glades precinct. Captain Lance will take care of them."

Oliver noted that the man had gotten Quentin's designation wrong but there were more pressing concerns. "How did we get here? Where's Slade?"

"Deathstroke is, uh, taking a small nappy nap," said the man, airily wiggling his fingers. "I knocked him out, picked you up and ran you here. Don't worry, it wasn't a bridal carry."

"You carried me?"

"Don't sound so surprised. I'm pretty strong. The speed also helps a lot," he shrugged in what seemed like self-deprecation.

"That's not possible."

Oliver swallowed, thoughts racing. He had to find a way to get off this roof and he needed answers. But how do you escape something this fast?

"Isn't it? I thought you said you were more ready to believe in the impossible than most people." I've spent my whole life chasing the impossible. His heart stopped.

"Who are you?"

The man stepped closer to him so Oliver could see his face more clearly in the blazing glow of the city that suffused the evening sky. He wanted to take a step back but his feet were again rooted to the ground as the man ducked his head and pulled back the mask. Barry smiled tentatively, hair tousled and cheeks wind-flushed. "Hey."

***

Either Oliver had forgotten how beautiful Barry was when he was awake or Slade had hit him really hard and he was now hallucinating.

"You. You're not-" his throat was closing. "You're not real."

Not-Barry looked at him gently. "I promise I'm real. See?" He took off a glove and reached out a hand between them. Oliver stared at it. The long slender fingers and slim wrist were so familiar, he reached out to touch it almost without thinking.

The other man's eyes were tender and his smile tired but sweet as ever, dimpling his cheeks. The hand, soft and warm, slotted neatly into his own, fingers intertwining in sense-memory.

"It's me, Oliver," he said, stepping closer. "It's really me."

Oliver touched the man's face as though in a dream. He traced the planes of those cut-glass cheekbones, the shadows cast by his sweeping lashes, the freckles around his eyes, the plush pink lips. They gently brushed his own open mouth and he was suddenly surrounded by the scent of rainstorms and honey beneath which he could sense the taste and feel that was uniquely Barry.

"Barry," he breathed. "Barry."

Oliver grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him forward for a furious kiss that made him grunt and stagger in surprise. He fisted his hands through those soft chestnut waves, holding Barry's head in place to sweep his tongue deeper into his mouth, starving for his taste, his touch, his moans driving him even more delirious.

It was an eternity of bliss and yet not nearly enough when his lover broke free. He caught Oliver's wrists, panting. "Oliver," Barry leaned their foreheads together, both their breathing ragged. Oliver's blood pounded in his ears. He only realized he'd been crying when Barry brushed the wetness away with his ungloved thumb. "Oh Ollie," he murmured sadly.

"Are you dead?," Oliver choked out. His vision blurred with tears but he let them brim over, afraid to blink.

"Are we both dead? Is this heaven?"

"What? Ollie, no," Barry huffed a laugh and turned his face into Oliver's hand to kiss it. "We are both very much alive."

"But I need you to listen to me," his grip on his wrists tightened urgently, those wonderfully awake and alert eyes pinning his own with startling intensity, "I don't have much time. First off, I'm not really back."

Oliver's heart sank and he pulled Barry impossibly closer, running frantic hands over his body searching for damage. "What do you mean?"

Catching his hands again, Barry turned Oliver's chin up to face him full-on. "To understand what I'm about to tell you," he spoke careful and clear, "you need to believe in the impossible. Can you do that?"

Oliver laughed incredulously. "I don't need to believe, I just saw it."

"No, there's more to it. Listen," he took a deep breath, "I'm from the future."

"From...the future," repeated Oliver blankly. This somehow seemed to make perfect sense, in that surreal way the twists and turns of a dream seemed perfectly reasonable.

"Yes. The me of right now is still in a coma at STAR Labs," said Barry. "I'm going to wake up in a few months and I'm going to have these powers."

"Powers? Like...turning into lightning?"

"No, but I am lightning fast and I can generate my own lightning bolts...eventually." Something tight flickered over his expression but he shook it away and refocused. "The point is, I will develop my powers over time until one day I accidentally time-travel."

"Absolutely nobody can find out what really happened here tonight, not even me. I need to find out about my powers by myself and you can't tell me or anyone until one day, I have to deliberately choose to time travel for the first time," Barry cupped Oliver's face in his hands, almost vibrating with urgency. "You have to promise me."

Oliver was still struggling to get a grip on reality. "But why?"

"Because that is how it happened before and now must be again," said Barry. His face was inscrutable. "Anything else will create a paradox. Promise me."

"I promise. I won't tell anyone." He still didn't have the slightest idea what Barry was saying but he would promise his soul to have his partner back like this, warm, responsive, alive.

He couldn't make himself let go of him though. He wasn't sure he knew how. "But - Barry, there's so much happening in the city right now - I need you. I don't know if I can do this without you."

"Oliver, you can do this," and there was that immovable trust in Barry's eyes that he had been starving for, making his heart soar and humbling him to his core at the same time, "It won't be easy but you're not alone. Trust in your family and your team. They have your back. You can save the city and you will beat Slade."

The band that had constricted his chest for months finally loosened, allowing free breath. "You really believe that?"

Barry smiled. "I don't have to believe it. I've already seen it."

It suddenly struck Oliver that this Barry was different in a way that had nothing to do with the mask or the powers. There was an invisible weight on the slope of those broad shoulders. Even his smile was not the full-blown beam of sunshine he was used to, some sad shadow pulling at the creases of his mouth and eyes, and the furrow of his brow. There was a battered and bowed gravity to him that Oliver recognized.

What happened to you? What made you so much like me?

Perhaps Barry had seen him reading too much in his demeanor. Stepped back uncomfortably, he pulled Oliver's hands away. "I have to go," he softened at the sound of distress that escaped Oliver, hands scrabbling to pull him back. "This is real, Ollie," he framed his face in his hands again, eyes as tender as they were intense, "I promise. I'm going to wake up."

Oliver swallowed past the knot in his throat and nodded. "Okay. I believe you."

"And I believe in you," Barry gently pried his hands loose and Oliver, with a Herculean effort, let him.

He stood at the edge of the building, silhouetted in shadow and scarlet against the liquid yellow-gold of the city. Electricity crackled at his feet, spidering up his body which Oliver could sense vibrating with power even at this distance. Almost a demi-god, an entity that belonged to a place and time Oliver could not hope to follow.

A sudden desperation gripped him. "Barry," he called, "I love you."

Barry gave him that soft, sad smile over his shoulder. "I know," he said, lightning sparking in his eyes.

Oliver was braced for the sonic boom this time. He watched in awe as the red-gold comet blazed across the city into the horizon before disappearing into a vortex of swirling blue light.

Now that... is really cool.

Bonus deleted scene

Chapter 2

#olivarry #oliver queen x barry allen #a stitch in time #canon divergence #arrow #the flash #established relationship

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hitamory-dead-blog · 7 years ago

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Oh boi a mermaid AU

OK I KNOW MERMAID AUS ARE LIKE RIDICULOUSLY POPULAR AND MAYBE A LITTLE OVERUSED BUT IM HONESTLY ADMITTING THAT I FRICKIN LOVE SOME OF EM SO I WROTE A LITTLE THING FOR A BNHA MERMAID AU AND FUCKIN UHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT AND MAYBE IF YOU GUYS LIKE IT ILL WRITE A THING FOR IT ON AO3 AFTER I UPDATE ALL MY OTHER FICS RIP

(Seriously tho, I came up with this on the fly so if it’s not great pls forgive ; v ; )

Izuku stared again at the bathroom sink, stomach twisting into knots. Slowly, he reached forward and turned on the water as his face twisted with worry. He stared at the stream of water, so insignificant several days earlier, but now…

Every cell in his body was screaming at him to turn it off and leave, but he ignored his instincts and slowly extended his hand towards the cold stream. As soon as the icy water came in contact with his hand, he felt thousands of tiny pinpricks wherever the water touched. He winced slightly, resisting the urge to yank his hand away for a few seconds longer.

Finally, he withdrew his hand and stared at his palm. With a mortified expression, his fears were confirmed as he now noticed webbing spreading between his clawed fingers. Shimmering, dark green scales, the same shade as his hair, had replaced the sun-browned skin of his hand.

“It wasn’t a dream…I really am…” he groaned, leaning on the edge of the sink with his weight on his elbows.

The whole thing with Bakugo being attacked by the Leviathan, Izuku running in to help, being saved from the brink of death by the legendary Hunter All Might, and finding out that the only reason he was still alive was because All Might had granted him the ‘ability’ to become a merfolk as soon as he touched water. Yes, the merfolk Hunter All Might had been, and always would be, Izuku’s number one idol, and he’d dreamed of becoming a Leviathan Hunter ever since he was small, but this wasn’t how he imagined he’d be forced to get over his fear of water.

As it had turned out, All Might was actually a human granted the ability One for All, and with it, would become a merman when he touched the water. He wasn’t the pureblooded merfolk the world thought he was, nor was he the giant of a man everyone had seen on TV. On top of that, a severe injury a several years back had placed a restriction on the amount of time his body would remain in the form of a merman, capped at three hours…but Izuku had no time limit. He would apparently remain in this merfolk form until his body was dry. Which would definitely be a pain in the ass in the long run.

All Might had thrown Izuku the excuse that 'I managed to get through my time at Yuuei pretty much on my own with this ability, so it shouldn’t be too hard with me helping you!’ Apparently the holder often developed one or more abilities along with the alternate form they took, which would be a plus side in his journey to becoming a Hunter. Still…

…this 'becoming-a-merperson-whenever-you-touch-water-no-matter-where-you-are’ thing wasn’t really the greatest development. Izuku raised his head a bit, glaring at the water still flowing from the tap.

And here I thought I was afraid of water before now.

Merfolk weren’t actually considered a good thing in society. All Might was…well, he was an exception. The rest of them were all savage creatures with sharp teeth, claws, hypnotic voices, and a thirst for human blood. They were lumped in with the rest of the monsters that dwelled in the sea—all known as Leviathans. This meant that, if Izuku was found out in his merfolk form…

…yeah, it wouldn’t be good.

A shudder ran through his body at the thought of what could happen as he reached out his scaly hand to turn off the tap. This was a lot harder with smooth scales, so he just uttered a curse word under his breath and switched hands to turn it off. Then, he stared at his hand, spreading out his fingers to look at the webbing between them. This really wasn’t very nice to look at. It was like a duck’s foot, but the webbing was thin enough that light passed through it. His hand was beginning to dry off by this time, scattered patches of scales fading back into his own skin.

“You can do this. You wanted to be a Hunter, right? You got what you wanted, and now you’re gonna have to get over that fear of the water. There isn’t any way around it…” he murmured encouragement to himself, but it wasn’t helping much.

He decided to watch his hand and wait in the bathroom until it had gone completely back to normal. It’d be pretty hard to explain if his mother saw that her son’s hand had become the hand of a merperson.

Oh BOI headcanons(?):

-Heroes are called Hunters in this AU and the villains consist of merfolk and sea monsters. The villains are called Leviathans in this AU.

-One For All is an ability that can only be transferred when 1) The recipient has a near-death experience at sea and 2) The giver actively wants to give the ability to the recipient. Just like in canon.

-One For All is an ability that gives the holder all the abilities of a merfolk, but the side effect is that the holder’s physiology changes as well when their body comes in contact with water

-Instead of being Quirkless, the thing that stops Izuku from becoming a Hunter is an intense fear of the ocean. I know I said ‘water’ in the excerpt but shh, it’s the ocean.

-All Might is thought by the world to be the first (and only) benevolent merfolk out there, and I still need to flesh out his character more in this AU but yes he graduated from Yuuei. I’m thinking maybe he’s known around the school as Toshinori Yagi in his withered form as a trusted faculty member, but he’s known by the world as All Might, the Hunter who also happens to be a merperson. Like a kinda Peter Parker/Spider-Man or Bruce Wayne/Batman thing, you feel? I need to think about it more, I’m bad at explaining myself.

-The thing Izuku mentioned with Bakugo is that scene in ep 2 where the sludge villain gets set loose and tries to take over Bakugo’s body. Except in this AU, it was a kraken/huge frickin’ octopus that came up onto the land to kill a human for food. It tried getting Izuku first, but was thwarted by All Might, then later it caught Bakugo and was trying to drag him out to sea. Izuku was the first one to move and when he tried saving Bakugo, he got grabbed instead and nearly drowned. He wakes up to find that oh boy, All Might was duly impressed by Izuku’s heroic actions and wanted to save him so yea he gave Izuku One For All to (mostly) save his life. Izuku’s thrilled about this until he finds out that ‘oh boy, he’s also gonna change form when exposed to water.’

-Yeah, All Might spends a lot of time trying to help Izuku with his fear of the ocean and it’s tough but he’s being the best Dad Might.

-Bakugo bullies Izuku about wanting to be a Hunter despite being deathly terrified of the sea.

- Shit boi, idk if this is a good AU but I like it so far, lemme know what you guys think and I might continue this

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fic #mermaid au #izuku midoriya #where the water is flowing

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gulescamisade · 7 years ago

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Virginia: Day 10

DAVENFORTH: -Does this university have a gym? It better. Well, Dave is in there. Not that you can see him, there's a heavy punching bag taking quite the abuse. There's flurries of hits, but their source can't be seen.-

HIGHBLOOD: =Watching this. He's here. He's maybe always been here. Crunches nacho slowly, loudly.=

DAVENFORTH: -When the fuck did you even get here-

DAVENFORTH: -Flashes in and kicks the bag, sending it flying into a wall. He lands, huffing, sweating.-

QIRIN: =she comes in eventually, sitting quietly on a bench with her hands open in her lap, watching Sonic the Hedgehog beat up a gremlin.=

HIGHBLOOD: =hands Qirin cheesy nacho chips= :o)

DAVENFORTH: -He hasn't noticed the audience yet, walking over and hoisting the bag up, placing it back on its rack.-

QIRIN: =....thanks. She nods and takes it, not wishing to be the one to disrupt the silence.=

HIGHBLOOD: =loudly crunches chip again=

DAVENFORTH: -Looks up. Oh. He gives a sup nod-

HIGHBLOOD: you tirin already brother, shit just got good =eats more chips and nods at him=

QIRIN: =waves gently. hi, she read the news.=

DAVENFORTH: Nah just didnt realize i had an audience

DAVENFORTH: -Rolls his shoulders and goes back to punching the bag, normally this time. He's putting a lot of effort behind these swings, the impacts very audible in the gym-

-----------

ERIDAN: -Somewhere in the first floor of the university science department, a fish troll has made his headquarters. The door of a lab is thrown open while music plays, if it could be called music. It was muffled and the signal was terribe with static. It was obviously a radio hotwired to pick up whatever far off-planet station that dared to air all the way to Earth. A small sign of life in the otherwise gloomy dark school hallways.-

ERIDAN: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=And-yo5jwko

ROXANNE: -Obviously if she was going to tour around anywhere to distract herself from the stress and danger it would be the science building. It would be like a blast from the past. When Roxanne had still been in school she spent all her time in her campus science department or observatory (good place to study, really quiet.) She walks aimlessly around the empty halls of the first floor peeking in through a window or two until the sound of shitty music gains her attention and she follows it until she is looking in through the open door to the lab.-

ROXANNE: Huh. -Looks like they were re-purposing rooms.-

ERIDAN: -Repurposing the rooms in a manner of speaking. The tables were lined with Eridan's "meager" collection of assault weapons. Everything ranging from harpoon guns to muskets, photon, and of course, the standard automatic was laid out on display.-

ERIDAN: -Eridan himself was half sprawled over the professor's desk, having fallen asleep over maps of the Washington battle grounds next to his honest-to-god duct taped radio hull. The source of the static music.- (zzzz)

ROXANNE: -What a hero, what a pro.-

ROXANNE: -Maybe she should just let him sleep, but tickle her curious at just why he was napping in a slightly redecorated lab while leaving dangerous weaponry about.- ROXANNE: Hm. -She knocks on the frame of the doorway to see if that will wake him up.-

ERIDAN: -SNORTS AWAKE, hunting knife almost instantly in his hand. Maybe he fell asleep with it? He lifts his head to peer blearily around, glasses askew.- zzzuhfuck -Spots Roxanne at the door, eyebrows furrowing until he's giving a mighty stretch at the desk.-

ERIDAN: oh dammit

ERIDAN: justa human -yawns toothily, using the pointy end of the knife to scratch at the base of his horns.- wwhats the commotion

ROXANNE: -Yep just a human 8) -

ROXANNE: -Briefly flinches when he wakes up with a knife of all things.- Jeez ya' expecting certain company with that tooth pick? ...horn pick?

ERIDAN: surprised you aint similar wwise givven your situation -The horn pick feels good actually.... he casually keeps sweeping the blunt end along the wwavvy shape of his horns. The amphibious insectoid that he is, totally half asleep.-

ERIDAN: mess hall aint this wway if youre lookin

ROXANNE: Man I'd be real dumb if I was lookin' for a bite to eat.

ROXANNE: Surprise Im here to steal the guns you left out on the table for absolutely basically anyone to come and get. -jabs a thumb at the arms display. Do you get her point.-

ERIDAN: -gives her this LOOK.- wwhat

ERIDAN: do you think im sendin these folks out there empty handed

ERIDAN: kinda presumptuous a you assumin im runnin that kinda operation here

ERIDAN: takin is wwhat theyre FOR

ROXANNE: Right right i get that, but no sign in sheet or nothin'?

ROXANNE: Dang its like you got no respect for 'em. -Steps all the way in and eyes the collection close up. Some of these are nice.-

ROXANNE: Also seems dangerous.

ERIDAN: yeah probably thats also in essence the point -rubbing his eyes under his glasses and then reaches under his desk. Time to pour himself a drink.-

ROXANNE: -Picks up the automatic and looks it over, is it in good condition?- ROXANNE: Then you run a risky armory.

ERIDAN: meh -Damn. He has no more cups. Just swings back this rock n rye flavored faygo with a grimace.-

ERIDAN: -All the rifles are in good condition. It's one of the few things Eridan gives a shit about enough to invest and maintain.-

ERIDAN: run your owwn armory if you wwanna criticize

ROXANNE: If I had plans ta' stick around i might. We could have a whole competition, best arms dealer wins.

ROXANNE: -Puts down the automatic and picks up the harpoon gun, inspecting it in quite the same manner and then aiming it at the opposite wall. Her finger isnt on the trigger of course, but shes never shot one before and wanted to try holding it.-

ERIDAN: run me outta business fine

ERIDAN: so long as the job gets done -The safety's on and it gleams sharply in the flourescent lighting. A deadly harpoon, especially in the right hands.-

ROXANNE: -Noice. Its got a good weight to it.- Those are the words of someone plannin' on losing.

ROXANNE: -Turns her head to flash him a small smile.- But like i said not stickin' around to do your job for you.

ERIDAN: yeah -What he's agreeing to, it's not apparent. He's just chugging more faygo, eyes drooping heavily.- mmmmh

ERIDAN: ought to pick one you like or somethin

ROXANNE: Hm?

ROXANNE: ....Are you just gonna' give me a gun? -How sleepy IS this guy.-

ERIDAN: -fingers are knotted into his hair as he gives himself a massage around the temples- ...fuckin

ERIDAN: yes i am

ERIDAN: it aint that goddamn complicated sometimes a request or a question is just simple

ERIDAN: not wwarrantin the necessity to react like youre batshit insane

ERIDAN: i already had to deal wwith one a you

ERIDAN: or else just drop it clearly attempts at generosity or concern at you humans just aint wworth it

ROXANNE: Sorry consider me a lil' hesitant around strangers lately.

ROXANNE: Thanks for the offer though, ill take ya' up on it. -Shes putting down the harpoon gun and taking one of the automatics. sure the spear was cool, but this would be a lot more useful later.-

ERIDAN: -reaching under his desk again. This time pulling out a twinkie, peeling apart the wrapper.- least you got your senses about you -mutters.-

ROXANNE: -Tucks that gun away safe and sound in her sylladex now before turning to watch eridan snack.-

ROXANNE: So... besides hand out guns an' chug shitty soda brands, what else do you get up to in here?

ERIDAN: i aint in here most instances

ERIDAN: im out and about runnin the operation a course

ERIDAN: the fuck else wwould i be

ERIDAN: besides sittin square wwith my thumb up my ass

ERIDAN: dealin wwith local patrols and organizin scouts for supplies and shit a that nature

ROXANNE: -She shrugs.- 'Dunno what else you would have been doing thats why I asked.

ROXANNE: -Did they get rid of any of the tech in this lab?-

ERIDAN: -grunts. Nah, they didn't. But they did disembowel the computers for various things. Mainly so they wouldn't be used.-

ROXANNE: -She doesnt care too much about them being gutted, she just wants to look at them. She takes a seat at one of the counter tops and fiddles with the ripped open technology.- Hah. Ya' know its kinda' nice to see that not too much has changed in the sense of the standard open to public campus computers.

ERIDAN: i wwouldnt fuckin knoww

ERIDAN: i aint gone to no humanclad univversity

ROXANNE: You sure missed out then.

ROXANNE: Human uni. is where it is at.

ERIDAN: -just. Stuffs this whole twinkie in his mouth. Chews balefully.- sounds like its a baised drawwn conclusion but alright

ROXANNE: Oh it absolutely is but its also the damn truth.

ROXANNE: You ever had a "Week of Welcome" wherever you studied?

ROXANNE: Its crazy let me tell you.

ERIDAN: -fixes her with a dubious frown.- a wweak of wwelcome sounds like the traditionalistic ritual of testin the constitution newwly ascended trolls

ERIDAN: vvia drowwnin their heads in load gapers and seein if they resuscitate afterwwards

ERIDAN: guess humans got more spine to them than i thought initially

ROXANNE: ......Wowie.

ROXANNE: Nah we didn't do any of that.

ROXANNE: It was basically a week of clubs an' academic society groups tryin' to out-do each other with fun or dumb activities.

ROXANNE: You could pet like seven dogs by the library.

ROXANNE: Or get free pizza or cup cakes for shaking a teachers hand.

ROXANNE: Although sometimes you got to pay $20 to smash a car with a sludge hammer but that was more often around finals.

ERIDAN: so

ERIDAN: youre sayin there aint some kind of mutilation or murder plots invvolvved

ERIDAN: not evven a little

ROXANNE: Not usually.

ERIDAN: evven the recreational shits got some bite to it

ERIDAN: ...huh -sips faygo thoughtfully.-

ROXANNE: Yep. School is a place for petting dogs, makin' the grades, and getting sloshed on a thursday night when you know you have a 8am lecture hall.

ERIDAN: suppose i relate on some level -hmphs, unimpressed.-

ERIDAN: but nothin too solid

ROXANNE: Thats okay. Lets agree to leave it as a cultural difference I guess

ERIDAN: fairs fair -sloshes down the rest of this lukewarm faygo. Disgusting.-

ERIDAN: im eridan

ROXANNE: -If its so gross dont drink it.-

ROXANNE: -She turns around on her stool.- Nice to meet ya'.

ROXANNE: Im Roxanne.

ERIDAN: uh sure -He DOUBTS it's nice to meet him but accepts this introduction anyhow.- dunno if i ought to point it out or nothin ERIDAN: but you aint lookin like the battlefield type so ERIDAN: noww im wonderin wwhat the shit youre doin taggin along the assassination brigade for

ERIDAN: it aint exactly the equivvalent to pizza and pettin puppies or wwhatevver the fuck

ROXANNE: Ya' aint wrong there.

ROXANNE: Its kind of a long story. But to summarize why I'm goin' along on this crazy shoot the duo president mission is to make sure the dad of my infant daughter doesnt get himself killed in the process.

ROXANNE: Plus I got no weekend plans.

ERIDAN: -He understands these words individually and is trying to piece them together into something comprehensible.- so outta obligation to your mate aka the sire a your offspring

ROXANNE: Mmmm, not technically either of those things.

ROXANNE: But close enough.

ROXANNE: Derek is my ex, and we adopted a lil' girl while we were still together.

ERIDAN: so it wwas a beforan style cullin ritual

ERIDAN: wwherein the twwo a you havve obligation ovver some helpless wward

ERIDAN: all the wwhile ditchin wwhat i presume wwas a romantic entanglement

ERIDAN: but its enough for you to pledge loyalty enough to head facefirst into the troll davvy jones locker of suicide missions for

ERIDAN: ...

ERIDAN: wwho the hell is this guy anywway

ROXANNE: Bingo.

ROXANNE: Derek Strider. You'd know him if you met him.

ROXANNE: About yay tall -Gestures the height.- kinda' full of himself.

ROXANNE: Triangle shades.

ERIDAN: oh

ERIDAN: him

ERIDAN: ....

ERIDAN: i dont see it

ROXANNE: -Snrks.- Dont see what? Him being a dad or the relationship?

ERIDAN: wwhy the shit hes wworth you dyin for

ERIDAN: you aint even invvolvved anymore

ERIDAN: the risks real possible just FYI

ERIDAN: but on top of losin a dad your grubs riskin losin its mom too aint it

ERIDAN: wway to fuckin go the both a you

ROXANNE: Yeah i know.

ROXANNE: But hey if we both die then i dont have to tell my baby that her daddy died. -Yes, just smile the real truth away.-

ROXANNE: Nah but... caring about someone can make ya' do crazy shit.

ROXANNE: We may not be together anymore but it doesnt change the fact that I still love him in other ways.

ERIDAN: crazy shit like a plea for attention if i evver fuckin saww it

ERIDAN: hey blowwhole look wwhat im puttin at risk for you

ERIDAN: -snorts- bet he dont appreciate it none

ROXANNE: -Snrks.- Even if it was a cry for attention,

ROXANNE: Which its not.

ROXANNE: He might appreciate it at least a little.

ROXANNE: Or at least feel damn well guilty when its all over, haha.

ERIDAN: not appreciativve enough to vvalue your grubs livvelihood it dont look like ERIDAN: smfh wwhat do i knoww

ERIDAN: just got a general sense a wwhat a guardians supposed to behavve to compare it to

ERIDAN: and i wwas reared by a goddamn skyhorse scrod rest his fuckin soul

ROXANNE: Ya' probably know just about as much about proper parenting as me, to be honest.

ROXANNE: Still workin' on that whole "Perfect suburban mom" deal.

ROXANNE: But he cares about her a lot. I think he just got his head dragged into this mission.

ROXANNE: Keep hoping he's gonna' snap out of it but maybe its his feelings from how hes about to have another baby with his wife that makes him feel like he needs to save the world.

ERIDAN: -grunts- i guess

ERIDAN: still a fuckin shame says i

ERIDAN: pitys gonna only go so far and in the ends its gotta be you and your owwn hide

ERIDAN: the shit youre invvested in or wwhatever

ERIDAN: wwardin the grub

ERIDAN: cant be a bad thing

ERIDAN: but youre wwastin your fuckin energy expectin anybody to change for you wwho aint done shit to try

ERIDAN: except ask you to be there and vvalidate you feelin needed or wwhat not

ERIDAN: makes the cycle addictivve -sighs out, staring off. Time to break out more faygos.-

ROXANNE: Well damn.

ROXANNE: This is some impromptu broken relationship advice or what.

ERIDAN: no -turns to her to deadpan.- its advvice on survvivin past tomorroww

ROXANNE: Oh i know im gonna'.

ERIDAN: the credits goin to you then

ERIDAN: or him rather

ERIDAN: hes the one in the front lines aint he

ERIDAN: suspect much -asks it like a question. Suspect much??-

ROXANNE: Yeah he is.

ROXANNE: But while derek has a big talk I also know he has the skills to back it up.

ROXANNE: And I'm mostly tagging along to provide immediate cover for the kill group.

ERIDAN: right... -Sure Jan. He believes you.-

ROXANNE: What ya' dont believe i can do it?

ERIDAN: wwhats it matter wwhat i think

ERIDAN: im the guy leavvin my wweaponry lyin strewwn about wwilly nilly

ROXANNE: ...... -Chuckles.-

ROXANNE: Fair point.

ERIDAN: -slorps a new faygo. This one a grape flavored one.-

ERIDAN: doesnt matter wwhat i say

ERIDAN: its you and your time and wwho youre puttin it towwards

ERIDAN: hope you get it back at the end of the day is all

ERIDAN: -says this because he's totally judging you, Rox.-

ROXANNE: -Seriously, How many sodas is this guy going to drink.-

ROXANNE: -She shrugs. He is free to judge away, the plan is stupid and risky and she knows that by going into it she might die. But if there was anything she could do to help minimize the chance of any more casualties on this suicide run it would be worth it.-

ROXANNE: Ya' know we've talked a lot about me, but what about you Eridan?

ROXANNE: I could be wrong but ya' dont seem like the type to be visiting earth to get a load of our, albeit currently dying, culture. Is it the soda brands that caught your attention?

ERIDAN: the only thing wworth a damn to come outta earth if you ask me -snarks but it lacks bite. He just shrugs.-

ERIDAN: just so happens i got a free wweekend too

ROXANNE: Aww really? Thats all you enjoy about it?

ERIDAN: you got decent pastries i guess -Don't aww at him...-

ROXANNE: Pastries and soda.

ROXANNE: Well. Everyone's gotta have their favorites.

ERIDAN: sos you

ERIDAN: it just so happens yours got pointshades

ROXANNE: -HRGH.-

ROXANNE: Pft... Nah.

ERIDAN: youd die for it so

ERIDAN: wwheres the fuckin lie tee bee ach

ROXANNE: I'm not going to die for him, because we're not going to die.

ROXANNE: Also like I said before you can care about someone without them being your favorite.

ERIDAN: guess youre right

ERIDAN: wwith that logic im layin my life on the line for a mime

ROXANNE: Is the mime your buddy?

ERIDAN: hell no

ERIDAN: he dont evven like me and frankly i dont care for his foot wwear

ERIDAN: wwho am i kiddin

ERIDAN: at least its consistant -just B/ at himself.-

ROXANNE: Pfft.

ROXANNE: Hilarious. Well I havent met this mime but ill be keepin' an eye out for what shoes he's wearing.

ERIDAN: -lowkey fist clenching memes.- youll see it

#cruciatusAnathema #temulenceGenetrix #tenaciousgodliness #weatheringQuerist #trunculentcampyman

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