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pumpkinpot · 3 years ago

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Hoshi

A/N: this is part of the Citrus Dome Sci-Fi collab. this is also pure fluff. no smut, no real angst. just spooky summer vibes and poly love. I hope you enjoy. (I’m sorry for grammatical errors in advance.)

synopsis: since beginning your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka you’ve developed a love for exploring abandon places with them whenever you three have time to explore. This time, so happens to land on a derelict observatory. (additional head canons for this story on my tik tok under pumpkinpots)

“It says here it was abandoned in the mid-nineteenth century due to the spike in light pollution with the growth of the city,” you say, pointing to the dome at the peak of the building. “All of the mobile telescopes were transferred to the university's observatory, while this placed rotted away.

Uraraka half listens, levitating sheetrock from the doorway and discarding them in the nearby field.

“Why just abandon it?” Katsuki asks, fiddling with varying lenses in his camera bag. “Couldn’t this have been a museum or something?”

“Yeah,” you agree, shifting a glance to make sure Uraraka doesn’t need help. “It looks like it was bought by a merchant in the eighties who wanted to turn it into a house, but he was indicted for tax evasion before the renovations ever finished. It hasn’t been touched since.”

He scoffs with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Rich idiots.”

Uraraka brushes specks of dust off her palms across her cut-off shorts before urging us alone. “Shall we?”

It takes two and a half pushes to nudge the door wide enough to squeeze through. The observatory opens to us with a groan of whining metal and the scratch of loose dirt on concrete.

Centered in the main foyer, a gaping mural of blue and white cobblestone depicts a dusty map of astrology stars.

Katsuki has to be coaxed with a promise to be flashed to pose under the Taurus constellation for a picture, meanwhile, Uraraka floats just above Pisces with a cute puffy cheeked expression.

Names, small sayings, and symbols decorate the wall in vibrant graffiti, the place a cocktail of color and wild Ivy.

"It's a lot more lit than I thought I'd be," Uraraka says, stuffing her flashlight into her bag.

Katuski keeps the light attached to his camera lit as he weaves in and out of rooms, zooming in on old books and broken equipment.

We follow him through a puzzle of what seemed to be living quarters and small classrooms, ending in a half oval auditorium.

At the center of the stage a white globe balances on a pillar of cement.

“What’s this?” Uraraka asks.

You touch where someone had attempted to derail the sphere like a baseball before trailing your eyes above the layered seating. “It's a projector ball. Technicians would likely project light from there into the ball to make it seem like the planet or star they were studying. That's why it's,” you knock on the sphere's cool solid surface. “Crystal.”

Uraraka shines her phone’s light into it, the shattered pieces reflecting shapes in a dim glow.

Katsuki points the camera into the orb, the bluish tint reminds you of the similar one in the abandoned lighthouse you’d explored with them two years ago. Though that one would have lit from the inside.

Quickly you explore the base and second levels, eager to get to the actual observatory. It's evident where the renovations to make this a home had been started and never finished. Small cracks in the floor, sealed with caulk, loose wooden planks pillaring knocked in walls.

It could have been a beautiful home, you think to yourself.

Up the second flight of stairs gradually more and more light fills the space until you are bathed in the orange glow of early dusk. A large open scare slits the dome, edging with rust and ivy. The circular room holds nothing of true value, nothing left behind but broken tables and a ladder to the viewing balcony tailing the opening of the dome.

“The big telescope that would have been here-” Uraraka says, fiddling with the screw holes in the floor, “- would have been a refracting telescope. It uses small bits of glass to magnify what you’re looking at, then is bent back through the telescope hitting the eyepiece. The other kind is a reflector,” she continues, “It's got a primary mirror at the bottom of the lens into a second mirror than a third eyepiece mirror. This one is mostly used to see the different parts of a star to see what it's made out of.”

Katsuki and you exchange looks of pure astonishment. "how do you know all this?" you ask.

She fishes a gum wrapper from one of the holes, tossing it to the side. “Before I was accepted into UA I was really considering going into astronomy. I thought it fit so well with my quirk, but the courses were too expensive.”

"More expensive than UA?" Katuski asks, refocusing his camera.

She nods, seeming just as dumbfounded as us.

“Do you think it could work on my explosions?”

“If you were in space maybe,” you hypothesize, “but in that case, we probably wouldn’t see it for a long while.”

He seems semi disappointed as if his evening plans had been somehow derailed.

You run your hands across the walls of the dome, dusk sun baking its metal frame like a soup pot.

For a moment you just watch them. It’d been so long since the opportunity arose for the three of you to go exploring. With you still temporarily stationed in the American hero commission and those two workings in Japan it was rare to find time to skype let alone go on adventures. You were lost in the bliss of having your partners so near without having to scream about a lost wifi connection when your hand hit something protruding from the wall.

“What are these?” you ask, inspecting circular gears attached to a crank.

“It looks like the wheel to turn the dome,” Uraraka says.

Katsuki zooms in on the puzzle of rigid plates. “This bitch turns?”

“Yeah, that slit doesn't move so the dome has to, to accommodate where in the sky they were looking.”

Katsuki fingers the gears a moment, mapping its track all across the sphere. He traces along the parts not layered in rust until he’s back at the start. “Do you think it still works?”

“Not without some serious lube and strong arms.”

“We’re one for two,” you suggest.

Katsuki hands over his camera to Uraraka, positioning himself opposite you to push the lever, while you pull left.

At first, the dial stays put, its stance unforgiving, but after a bit more pull than push a deafening whine reverberating through the entire observatory.

No visible move happens until the second crank roundabout when the shift of light against concrete becomes clear.

Katsuki’s eyes light with sheer amazement as the entire dome rotates around you. We are halfway through a full rotation before Uraraka shouts for you to stop.

You push on the lever stilling its movements as quickly as you can.

She holds a finger head tilted to the side. “Do you hear that?”

Your breath balloons in your chest as you lean in closer. The tiniest of whimpers echo around the dome from the viewing balcony.

One after another you file up the ladder, hopping on the edge of the dome. Balancing on the concrete crease between the moving track and the rest of the building you search for the sound.

“Here!” Uraraka yells from the other side.

You sprint as much as you dare, teetering along the two-story edge.

She squats over the body of a squirming animal, a tuft of fur caught in the track of the dome's rotation. She coddles its little frame, before reaching a hand out to you. “Y/n, your knife-”

Hesitantly you hand it over. She snips away the stuck pieces muttering thanks that none of the actual tail got caught. She folds the blade back into itself, pinching leaves and sticks from the animal's fur and tossing them over the side.

She holds it up, floppy ears and a black nose making it a nearly recognizable creature. A puppy.

He looks to be light brown, but that could be the soot.

Katsuki checks around the dome for any signs of a litter or mamma, before joining us with a shake of his head.

The pup squirms and with an open mouth, letting all sorts of noises tumble from his dirt-covered tongue.

Uraraka floats the puppy to the floor of the dome, as we file down the ladder. You empty the contents of your water bottle into a cup for drinking and the rest onto its back for cooling.

His fur peaks through white and brown spotted under layers of grime.

“Well,” Uraraka says, “we’ve been talking about wanting to expand our family.”

“I suppose there’s no better place to start,” you add, both of us looking to Katsuki for consensus.

He passes glances between the three of us. “Fine, but I get to name it.”

“Alright, but we get veto power.”

“Explosion-”

“Veto,” you say in unison.

He looks around puffy-lipped. “I didn't even get to finish.”

“Explosion nothing,” Uraraka clarifies.

He’s silent for a long moment looking around the space. “Hoshi?.”

“Star?” you confirm.

“This observatory was used to study the stars, wasn’t it?” He bats.

You and Uraraka exchange a satisfied, yet surprised look. You hadn’t expected something so- normal. This is after all the same man that made you name your golden pothos “boom boom boi” in his honor.

“I like it,” you say.

“Approved,” adds Uraraka.

We better take our picture before it gets too dark,” he says, turning away so you can’t see the blush on his cheeks. He switches out his filming camera for a smaller polaroid, propping it up on the edge of a broken table.

He runs back as the timer ticks down. He slides to your right side, Uraraka on your left. Their arms link behind you as you hold Hoshi up to your mid-chest. Clicking down from five you all give your cheesiest grins. A rectangular card spits from the bottom of the camera.

Ochaco shakes it a few times, swapping you a picture, for a puppy.

You wait for the picture to pixelate before opening the ninety-cent notebook of film slips and position it in the next available spot.

Urarka’s cut-off shorts and Katsuki's tanned shoulders are a stark contrast to the puffy blue coat and chunky knit beanie from the last abandoned mansion expedition last time. Before that, the three of us accidentally matched our windbreakers to Midoryia during a tour of The Ghost Candy Shop in Kyoto. We look like a group of tourists.

The small book seemed to be filling quickly despite the rareness of time to get away. Memories pile up from when it was just Uraraka and Katsuki to when you became a staple to their adventures. They’d given you responsibility for the book to garner your importance to them in their relationship until the reasoning for the gift became nothing more than routine. You were theirs, and they were yours.

Now a new member had sprouted in your little family, and if you squinted, you could imagine the rest of the pages being filled with the pup in aged years to maybe more as time goes on.

Right now, you were happy with the three and a half of you.

#bakugou x reader #uraraka x reader #bakugou x uraraka #ochako x reader #mha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n #Uraraka fluff #mha fluff

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symphonyofthewrite · 4 years ago

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Undead Memory (Ch2)

Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix)

Character Focus: Alucard

Summary: What happened during that month in which Alucard was alone in the castle?

Alucard dealing with the aftermath of S2, and trying to cope with the death—or, more accurately, the ghosts—of his parents.

Chapter 2: The Ticking of the Fire, the Hunger of the Clock

Dracula had been the king of vampires for centuries. He walked with death at his stride and destruction lurking in his shadow. All the humans feared him, all the vampires revered him.

Today none would have recognized the husk in the study. Those blank eyes didn’t even have strength enough for malice towards the humans he waged war upon, just…infinite exhaustion. Like killing the world with a lazy wave of his hand. Upon a glance, onlookers would have never said he was the king of the vampires, much less the most feared and fearsome of them all.

Footsteps sounded off behind him, a gentle hand along his shoulder.

“Why don’t you come play with us?” Lisa asked. “It’s not like you’ve got plans or anything.”

“Yes, Father! Come play!” Smaller footsteps now. “Look! Look what I found!”

“Oh! Adrian, where did you get that?” Lisa laughed, though there was concern in her voice.

“Down by the pond!”

“Now, Honey.” She knelt down. “You can’t just take animals from their natural environment.”

“Why not? I’ll be nice to it! It’ll be a wonderful pet!”

“Is this because your father won’t let you get a dog?”

“Maaaybe.”

��I’m sure you would be nice to it, honey.” She ruffled his hair. “But, well…how would you feel if giant hand came and took you from your home?”

“Oh…” Adrian’s voice fell. “I wouldn’t like that.”

“How about we go put it back together?”

“Okay.”

“You coming honey?”

The fire asked him to stay.

“I’m going into town.” Lisa threw her cloak and a smile over her shoulders, “I’ll see you in about a week. Take good care of Adrian while I’m gone, okay?”

He almost heard the ghost of his own voice: “We’ll try not to have too much fun without you.”

A phantom kiss on his cheek.

He barely raised his eye over his shoulder. There was nothing.

We told you not to look, the flames chided him.

The world he once knew turned, and this time the footsteps were louder—of someone taller.

��Father, look what I found!” It was Adrian’s voice, but deeper. Adrian’s hand on his shoulder, but his touch wasn’t so tiny. “This manuscript has to be at least a thousand years old! Where did you get this?!”

—(Some time long gone, just as you are)—

The flames licked at his ear, and told him not to answer.

***

“Then find the one who did the deed. If you loose an army of the night on Wallachia, you cannot undo it, and many thousands of people just as innocent as her will suffer and die…I won’t let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won’t let you commit genocide.”

“There are no innocents! Not anymore!”

He dug his nails into the chair, leaving angry gashes in the leather.

You have nothing left to lose now. The fire hissed. Just stay with us.

So he did.

Alucard leans over the counter, using his knife to make precise shapes in the dough.

“That smells good!”

“Oh you want one, do you?” A woman’s teasing voice.

“Only if I’m allowed." Alucard looks through his arm to see a little version of himself speaking sheepishly, putting his hands behind his back, as if he’d previously taken one when he wasn’t allowed, and feels the need to be extra polite now.

“Yes.” She smiles. “Yes you may.” She hands him a cookie, and his face splits into a smile.

Instead of successfully make the next cut in his own cookie Alucard fumbles with the knife.

The woman’s laugh echoes in his ear, shifting the scene. “No, honey, like this. It’s not the same as when you’re using a sword.”

He wants to look at her, but decides to lean further over his own cookie dough, balling his free hand into a fist.

“She’s right, you know,” a man’s—well, vampire’s—voice says from behind him, “You can be gentler with food than with flesh. Though,” he chuckles, “I suppose, for me it’s the same thing.”

“Vlad.” Lisa warns. “Try not be so vulgar in front of our son.”

Alucard shuts his eyes, as if the scene is indeed vulgar.

—(Rather than the truth: he can't bear how much the words want to make him smile…and he certainly isn’t going to let himself cry)—

“I think you forget, this is a vampire’s lair.”

“I think you forget that it’s both a vampire and a human’s home.”

Alucard doesn’t realize the knife is cutting into his finger until he the silence allows the clock to click its tongue in disappointment.

****

“Woosh!” A child zooms past Alucard in the hall.

He turns to see a younger version of himself carrying a toy bat above him—floating a few inches off the ground himself.

“Wait for me, Son!” His father isn’t far behind. He could easily dash after him in a flash of power, but he clearly wants his son to think he's at least somewhat normal.

Alucard thinks he feels wind brush past him as the memories speed by, but when they fade from earshot he realizes the cold is nothing more than that.

The clock in the other room chimes to notify him it's noon.

You’ll never have that again, say the bells.

*****

“And so, the prince and princess were married, and they lived happily ever after.” Lisa closes the book.

“Aww, it’s over?” Her son whines.

“It was a happy ending though!” She laughs. “That’s all we can ask for, right?”

“May I suggest something with a little more substance next time?” Her husband asks from the other couch, turning the page of his own book.

—(If only you were made of substance after all)—

“What do you have against fairy tales?”

“Nothing. I’m not one for fanciful romances, dashing princes, and the sort.”

“Oh you’re not, are you?” She takes a rose from a vase on the table beside her, smelling it.

He rolls his eyes.

Alucard gets up to read his book in another room, trying to shove the—

miss

you)

out of his head.

Why do the ghosts have to remind him of those stories, of her voice as she read them to him? Why not allow him to read his book today in peace, and blissfully forget?

The silence closes in on him from all sides, and the clock ticks in time to his footsteps.

******

The light from the window splits into dappled bits by the shattered mirror as Alucard runs his finger over the spines of the books, looking for a specific one.

“There are no innocents! Not anymore!”

This time he can’t help whirling around at the sound, horror and fear striking him, and for a moment he's there again, and there's only the sound of his heart, and his father’s raised hand.

When his eyes graze nothing, the scene dissipates like a breath.

Alucard’s hand instinctively moves to his chest, a dull sting echoing at the place where his father’s nails had carved, the tracks remaining in his skin that would probably never completely heal.

He abandons his pursuit of the book, his footsteps getting louder as he marches out of the room.

They’re getting worse, aren’t they? Askes the clock.

*******

Alucard stares at a speck of dirt on the canopy in his bed. It looks kinda like a frog. Or maybe Hungary.

Footsteps sound at the doorway—small ones trying to mask themselves. Once the steps would have made him shoot up and summon his sword. He's used to the ghosts by now.

He narrows his eyes, trying to look without actually sitting up, and sees a small golden face half-hidden in the doorway.

A cold wind passes through him, and for a moment he can't breathe, and draws a hand to his mouth.

“Having trouble sleeping?” Lisa’s ghost—(the thing that passed through him)—sits on the edge of the bed.

Adrian nods.

She pats the bed beside her.

Adrian runs in, as if both relief and fear propel him. He jumps up beside her, making the bed hop a little.

Vlad stirs on the other side, grunting a question.

��Adrian’s had a nightmare.” She runs her hand along her son’s back.

Another grunt.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lisa asks her son.

“Well…there was this…This demon was chasing me. Well, I didn’t know exactly what it was, but it sounded really big…I was really scared…I didn’t know what to do!"

“What’re you scared of a little demon for?” Vlad mutters, half asleep. “You’re strong enough to take those monsters down, son.”

Lisa chuckles, twisting a lock of her son's hair around her finger. “Even if you weren’t—which, you definitely are—your dad is the king of vampires. You know you can always call for assistance, right?”

Another grunt from his father.

That, at least, makes Adrian smile.

Alucard is sure there's only one clock in the room, but, as the silence overtakes the space, it seems every clock in the castle decides to begin chattering with ferocity.

He lays a while in the silence, trying to will his brain into sleep.

Then sits up sharply, throwing off the covers, telling to the clock, and the empty room, in a low voice;

“I have to get out of here.”

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antihero-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Undead Memory (Ch2)

Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix)

Character Focus: Alucard

Summary: What happened during that month in which Alucard was alone in the castle? Alucard dealing with the aftermath of S2, and trying to cope with the death—or, more accurately, the ghosts—of his parents.

Chapter 2: The Ticking of the Fire, the Hunger of the Clock

Dracula had been the king of vampires for centuries. He walked with death at his stride and destruction lurking in his shadow. All the humans feared him, all the vampires revered him.

Footsteps sounded off behind him, a gentle hand along his shoulder.

“Why don’t you come play with us?” Lisa asked. “It’s not like you’ve got plans or anything.”

“Yes, Father! Come play!” Smaller footsteps now. “Look! Look what I found!”

“Oh! Adrian, where did you get that?” Lisa laughed, though there was concern in her voice.

“Down by the pond!”

“Now, Honey.” She knelt down. “You can’t just take animals from their natural environment.”

“Why not? I’ll be nice to it! It’ll be a wonderful pet!”

“Is this because your father won’t let you get a dog?”

“Maaaybe.”

“I’m sure you would be nice to it, honey.” She ruffled his hair. “But, well…how would you feel if giant hand came and took you from your home?”

“Oh…” Adrian’s voice fell. “I wouldn’t like that.”

“How about we go put it back together?”

“Okay.”

“You coming honey?”

The fire asked him to stay.

“I’m going into town.” Lisa threw her cloak and a smile over her shoulders, “I’ll see you in about a week. Take good care of Adrian while I’m gone, okay?”

He almost heard the ghost of his own voice: “We’ll try not to have too much fun without you.”

A phantom kiss on his cheek.

He barely raised his eye over his shoulder. There was nothing.

We told you not to look, the flames chided him.

The world he once knew turned, and this time the footsteps were louder—of someone taller.

“Father, look what I found!” It was Adrian’s voice, but deeper. Adrian’s hand on his shoulder, but his touch wasn’t so tiny. “This manuscript has to be at least a thousand years old! Where did you get this?!”

—(Some time long gone, just as you are)—

The flames licked at his ear, and told him not to answer.

***

“There are no innocents! Not anymore!”

He dug his nails into the chair, leaving angry gashes in the leather.

You have nothing left to lose now. The fire hissed. Just stay with us.

So he did.

Alucard leans over the counter, using his knife to make precise shapes in the dough.

“That smells good!”

“Oh you want one, do you?” A woman’s teasing voice.

“Yes.” She smiles. “Yes you may.” She hands him a cookie, and his face splits into a smile.

Instead of successfully make the next cut in his own cookie Alucard fumbles with the knife.

The woman’s laugh echoes in his ear, shifting the scene. “No, honey, like this. It’s not the same as when you’re using a sword.”

He wants to look at her, but decides to lean further over his own cookie dough, balling his free hand into a fist.

“Vlad.” Lisa warns. “Try not be so vulgar in front of our son.”

Alucard shuts his eyes, as if the scene is indeed vulgar.

—(Rather than the truth: he can't bear how much the words want to make him smile…and he certainly isn’t going to let himself cry)—

“I think you forget, this is a vampire’s lair.”

“I think you forget that it’s both a vampire and a human’s home.”

Alucard doesn’t realize the knife is cutting into his finger until he the silence allows the clock to click its tongue in disappointment.

****

“Woosh!” A child zooms past Alucard in the hall.

He turns to see a younger version of himself carrying a toy bat above him—floating a few inches off the ground himself.

“Wait for me, Son!” His father isn’t far behind. He could easily dash after him in a flash of power, but he clearly wants his son to think he's at least somewhat normal.

Alucard thinks he feels wind brush past him as the memories speed by, but when they fade from earshot he realizes the cold is nothing more than that.

The clock in the other room chimes to notify him it's noon.

You’ll never have that again, say the bells.

*****

“And so, the prince and princess were married, and they lived happily ever after.” Lisa closes the book.

“Aww, it’s over?” Her son whines.

“It was a happy ending though!” She laughs. “That’s all we can ask for, right?”

“May I suggest something with a little more substance next time?” Her husband asks from the other couch, turning the page of his own book.

—(If only you were made of substance after all)—

“What do you have against fairy tales?”

“Nothing. I’m not one for fanciful romances, dashing princes, and the sort.”

“Oh you’re not, are you?” She takes a rose from a vase on the table beside her, smelling it.

He rolls his eyes.

Alucard gets up to read his book in another room, trying to shove the—

miss

you)

out of his head.

Why do the ghosts have to remind him of those stories, of her voice as she read them to him? Why not allow him to read his book today in peace, and blissfully forget?

The silence closes in on him from all sides, and the clock ticks in time to his footsteps.

******

The light from the window splits into dappled bits by the shattered mirror as Alucard runs his finger over the spines of the books, looking for a specific one.

“There are no innocents! Not anymore!”

This time he can’t help whirling around at the sound, horror and fear striking him, and for a moment he's there again, and there's only the sound of his heart, and his father’s raised hand.

When his eyes graze nothing, the scene dissipates like a breath.

Alucard’s hand instinctively moves to his chest, a dull sting echoing at the place where his father’s nails had carved, the tracks remaining in his skin that would probably never completely heal.

He abandons his pursuit of the book, his footsteps getting louder as he marches out of the room.

They’re getting worse, aren’t they? Askes the clock.

*******

Alucard stares at a speck of dirt on the canopy in his bed. It looks kinda like a frog. Or maybe Hungary.

Footsteps sound at the doorway—small ones trying to mask themselves. Once the steps would have made him shoot up and summon his sword. He's used to the ghosts by now.

He narrows his eyes, trying to look without actually sitting up, and sees a small golden face half-hidden in the doorway.

A cold wind passes through him, and for a moment he can't breathe, and draws a hand to his mouth.

“Having trouble sleeping?” Lisa’s ghost—(the thing that passed through him)—sits on the edge of the bed.

Adrian nods.

She pats the bed beside her.

Adrian runs in, as if both relief and fear propel him. He jumps up beside her, making the bed hop a little.

Vlad stirs on the other side, grunting a question.

“Adrian’s had a nightmare.” She runs her hand along her son’s back.

Another grunt.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lisa asks her son.

“Well…there was this…This demon was chasing me. Well, I didn’t know exactly what it was, but it sounded really big…I was really scared…I didn’t know what to do!"

“What’re you scared of a little demon for?” Vlad mutters, half asleep. “You’re strong enough to take those monsters down, son.”

Another grunt from his father.

That, at least, makes Adrian smile.

Alucard is sure there's only one clock in the room, but, as the silence overtakes the space, it seems every clock in the castle decides to begin chattering with ferocity.

He lays a while in the silence, trying to will his brain into sleep.

Then sits up sharply, throwing off the covers, telling to the clock, and the empty room, in a low voice;

“I have to get out of here.”

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borkthemork · 5 years ago

Text

Pizza For One - An SU:F Fic

Summary: Steven enjoys a pizza after Little Graduation.

Reblogs are appreciated!

-----

Pizzas were for friend gatherings.

When a friend needed a way to vent or bring themselves an outlet for their frustrations, Steven always saw pizza as the best way to make them feel better. It was warm, the reminder of comfort on their tongues with the casual topping placed in; when they taste this comfort, there was a belief that things would be okay, and that tears or hugs would allow some form of catharsis even if it was temporary. It was the kind of reassurance that could make long-lasting bonds, laughter, joy, emotional openness—everything one needed to be happy.

That was his first thought when he ordered his batch. It was a quick order—cheese tripled and decked with different vegetables alongside a cup of his favorite garlic sauce—and he gave his tips, his congratulations to the Fish Stew workers, and made his way to his car. It had the same ingredients he needed to make himself warm. The same campfire-feelings that would satisfy him of any sad slips. The perfect recipe.

With the sea asleep and the sun moving on for another night, he kept the pizza box in his passenger seat; he was going to protect this pizza, it was delicious after all, it would be bad if the magic of it went away and made room for the cold. Steven smiled to himself, but it melted away as he got himself ready, seatbelt on, foot on the pedal.

He needed some time to think, and the pizza was the only way to remedy it.

The drive felt long and winding. His mirrors gave him glances of the leading lights of the city, shrinking into pitiful specks as he kept his eyes on the road. His radio sang in quiet whispers, the lyrics with its electric melody sullying his body. Steven pressed more into his seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in a hesitant concerto.

“I'm a person and the person that I am can change So I'm looking forward, I'm looking forward I'm looking forward now I'm looking forward, I'm looking forward I'm looking forward now”

Asphalt turned into dirt trails. Dark-verdant fields made way for Delmarva pine. The hit of nature stung his nose—strong, earthy, plentiful. Why didn’t he come here sooner? Didn’t Connie say that connection to nature allowed some form of peace?

Well, better late than never.

His dondai parked into an enclosed space. Turning off the engine, he got out, stretching his body as he surveyed the landscape. The opening welcomed him with the thrum of nature; the crickets sang in a low mood, an unseen owl scouting out the area with its vibrant hoot; where the thrush cradled the front of his car and the moonlight gleamed down on him in a sheen of stars. It was perfect.

The pizza was there for him when he brought it out from the passenger seat. Sweet smells wafted from its openings, Steven licking his lips. Leaning against his vehicle’s side, he opened it, the warmth emanating from it hitting him within mere minutes. Heat. Comfort. The promise of mellow snacking on an amazing night. It sounded just like every other moment he used a pizza to help another companion of their struggles, and now he would take that chance to remedy the day’s comeuppances.

He took a bite.

There was warmth. That was for certain. But it didn’t work.

He took another bite.

The mushrooms and spinach hit him, with its soft texture and loving combination. But it didn’t work.

Still warm like homemade bread, but it wasn’t enough.

What if he removed the mushrooms?

He plucked the mushrooms off. His eyes kept honing in on each speck of topping, putting them into a neat-seated napkin on his passenger seat.

The pizza was clean of it now. The only things he had left were the triple-decked cheese, the spinach, onions, and tomatoes.

He took a bite.

It was warm, tender to the tongue. But it wasn’t enough.

The tomatoes must have been too ripe; he plucked them out in meticulous fashion.

His napkin piled on.

Then another bite.

He removed the onions. They must have been too strong.

And then another.

The spinach.

Another.

And another.

He didn’t know when he stopped; he didn’t know what came to at that moment, but a revelation came to him as he took his last bite, the taste souring his mouth: the pizza was cold now, down to its barest essentials, holes of ruptured sauce peaking through the horrible layers of cheese. It was macabre now. Ugly.

He messed up again.

Steven didn’t feel like eating anymore.

He placed the pizza box down to the forest floor. At least the ants had something to eat, at least he could give them that, right? He ruined his own food with just a simple touch of his fingers—they deserved that pizza more than him.

Is this what it felt like?

To ruin people when you have no more purpose left?

To find meaning or problems in something that never needed fixing?

To be a burden?

He bit his lower lip. Heart heavy, limbs weighing him down like ball chains, he climbed onto the roof of his dondai. It was sturdy even with its old stature, its neat and simple design harboring his weight like a needed friend on a painful day. He didn’t know what he was doing, all he could do was just fold his arms behind his head, watching the space above him go aimlessly—their purpose muddled in questions.

Purpose. Purpose.

Everything had a purpose.

The stars burned bright and sparked out in an instant. Galaxies harbored neighborhoods of planets, which then harbored wildlife or rocky terrain or anything in between. Something had a purpose, something that kept themselves going on with their days even if it zoomed past in light-years or even more.

He had a purpose once. He spent years fulfilling it, but why did he feel so empty? What was he supposed to do now?

Everyone is leaving, finding their own paths, and all he could do is watch from the sidelines, scuffing the dirt, being pathetic over the fact that he can’t get the happily ever after he wanted.

Heat pricked his eyes. He rubbed them, mumbling to himself at the sting piling into his nose; there wasn’t a remedy to the hollow feeling in his gut or the twisting aches of his forehead or the wheeze in his chest or the piling shame deep within him.

He didn’t know why he was crying, but he knew for a fact that no one was around.

No one was around to see him.

And nobody was around to stop him when he covered his face with the brunt of his arms, his heart-soaked sobs mingling into the night’s quiet symphony.

#steven universe #su #suf #suf spoilers #steven universe future #angst #fanfic

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theriseofreylo80 · 5 years ago

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Stay With Me Part 2

Overview: Kylo Ren is the most powerful man in the the galaxy. You are a rouge bounty hunter looking out for themselves. You meet by chance trying to find a part for your ship. He is a supreme leader and you are outlawed. But for some reason you are the thing he needs.

Word count: 1,571

You stared into the blackness of the supreme leader's helmet and he did the same to you. He studied your helmet and moved his head slowly up and down to looking you over. You did the same but weren't as obvious, noticing the many layers he wore in the hot atmosphere and the lightsaber that was hoisted at his side.

The vendor dropped as he released his hand, he fell to the floor gasping for breath. The supreme leader didn't even offer him a second glance, his attention was on you. "It seems you have something I want." His voice crackled, his helmet must have been newer and in better condition. Compared to yours his voice came in clear as a bell.

"You can want what I have if you like but it's still mine." You clasped the earth crystal in your hand, which you held behind your back out of reach.

"Is that so." He took a step towards you and it took all your will power not to step back. "Because I always get what I want Mandolorian."

You were a little intimidated by him but under that mask he was just a mere man. You ignored the Mandolorian comment and leaned closer to him surprising him. "Well you won't get this Love."

He jerked back at the nickname you had called him. You heard what sounded like a gulp come through in the transmitter, you were confused but not for long. As soon as you said that an army of stormtroopers surrounded you, blasters aimed at your head and chest.

"Oh but I believe I will be getting what I want." He pried the crystal out of your hand and examined it a moment before handing it off to one of his commanders. "Love." His visor became clear in the light and you could have swore to see a hint of smirk behind that helmet.

You let out small chuckle and he snapped his fingers, at once a the stormtrooper behind you knocked you down to your knees. "Don't you dare mock me." He loomed over you. "You think you're so tough Mandolorian but compared to me you are nothing." He sneered. You had heard that you were worthless so many times that it didn't even phase you.

"I'm not a Mandolorian." You repeated again.

“Hm." He looked down at you with an aura of powerfulness, you're were breathing heavy and it came through your transmitter, chest heaving in anger. "You're not a Mandolorian?" He questioned and you refused to answer. One of the stormtroopers knocked the side of your helmet trying to get a response. You nearly growled at them but instead you answered.

"No I am not."

"How curious." He forcefully grabbed your helmet jerking you forward. He took in the scratches and condition of your helmet. Noticing the places where your rank had been stripped. "A Mandolorian code is that one never removes their helmet." His breathing was heavy and his helmet was so close to your own. If you tried hard enough you could make out some of his features. "But since you claim you are not one of them I guess this doesn't apply to you." Venom dripped from his words. He reached both hands out and paced them on either side of your helmet. "I'd like to see the face of my defier."

Your heart rate picked up and your thrashed against your restraints. "No please!" His hands kept themselves positioned on the side of your helmet struggling to lift up. His breathing had gotten heavier and was motivated by something darker, by curiosity to see what you looked like.

"Supreme leader." A voice cut through stopping him in his actions. "We didn't come here to deal with a Mandolorian we came for the crystal." The voice came from a guy with red hair that's shined brightly in the sunlight. He wore a general's uniform and a bored expression rested on his face, as if he always dealt with an overly dramatic leader.

For a minute more the supreme leader kept his hands on the side of your helmet trying to stare in to see your face, but your visor was designed specifically so no one could see any sort of your face. "Supreme leader." The General said again this time with more malice.

The supreme leader let out a huff of anger and got back to his feet. He let his hand run down the side of your helmet. "I will see you one day Mandolorian." His voice sounded flat but there was a hint of something else you couldn't pick up on.

"General Hux." He turned to address the redhead. "Know your place I do what I like with or without your consent." He argued with the man for a it before he began to walk back to wherever he came from. As he walked away you felt a connection of some sort. That man had just tried to unmask you and yet It felt as if your heart was being torn with every step he took. And despite yourself you spoke up. "(Y/n)."

He stopped in his tracks but didn't turn around. "What?"

You knew it was stupid but the words pulled out of you as if someone was forcing them out. "That's my name. (Y/n)." The supreme leader stood rooted in place, his cape rippling in the hot desert wind. He turned to glance back but only for a second. Then he began to walk away again not even acknowledging your words with a response. General Hux shot you one last glance before following in pursuit the stormtroopers following behind him.

You picked yourself off the floor and watched them fade into the crowd. Dusting the dirt off yourself and trying to swallow a lump of emotion that had just racked through you. You turned back towards the vendor. "I'd like my money back."

"No can do (y/n)." You growled at him.

"Don't address me by my name vendor."

He shrugged and narrowed his eyes at you. "All sales are final."

“But I technically didn't even buy anything." You argued. "The supreme leader just stole it from me." You slammed your hands on his fold out table and gestured to the path where the army had gone.

"Whether you have the crystal now is none of my concern. You bought it to begin with thus our transaction is complete."

"Why you little." You lurched over the table to garb the vendor by his cloak. A nearby peace core officer saw you and motioned for you to put him down before things got ugly. You dropped him and snatched-various odd and ends of parts and slid them into your satchel.

You made your way back over to where you vehicle was parked. You kicked off on your Land Rover doing donuts and knocked into the vendors table sending his merchandise flying. People crowded in an instant trying to grab anything they could.

Sand blew past as you rode, leaving a lightly trail row here you were headed. It was nearly desolate on this planet expect for that small town and scattered huts. You wouldn't mind staying here in the company of very few if the weather wasn't so unbearable. As you approached your abandoned ship you saw a blur of something else nearby, about a couple hundred feet north of your ship.

As you got closer you saw that it was a First Order boarding ship. It was so huge that your stargazer looked like a speck of dust next to it. When you were a couple feet away you dismounted your Land Rover and scurried over to hide behind a nearby sand dune.

You peered over and saw the redhead from before standing next to the supreme leader. They were discussing plans as a hologram of a ship was displayed before them. Your helmets vision kicked in and and zoomed in to get you a closer look. The footage was fuzzy but you could still make most of it out. This hologram of the ship was a great grandchild of your stargazer, the newest model. It would have every part you needed to fix your ship and with the earth crystal your ship would never need another repair.

You bit the inside of your cheek debating over your plan. It was risky but if you could do it it would be worth it. The supreme leader quickly turned his head in your direction and you quickly ducked. You felt as if his gaze was starring into your soul behind your cover of the dune.

You looked around and saw that he was no longer there. He must have already boarded. General Hux was entering the ship with stormtroopers as the bay door began to close. You waited until they were no longer visible and threw all caution to the wind. You sprinted as fast as you could towards the ship. Just as it was closing you slid in and landed with no noise. You would have been all in the clear expect your cape snagged on the edge of the bay door. You pulled but it no use, you unhitched your cape from around you neck and left it behind. You took off in one direction unsure of where it would lead you but on a mission to get back what was rightfully yours.

Taglist: @1800lemmon @deadlyaffairs @golden-guide

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x you #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren smut #ben solo x reader #ben solo #ben solo fanfiction #star wars headcanons #star wars fanfiction #the mandolorian #x reader #new fanfic #fanfic update #ben solo smut

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rtfmp2021 · 4 years ago

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Digital Abstract Typography

I have created two of my own digital abstract typography, using new techniques that I've learnt on illustrator. These would be perfect for a poster or flyer, to spread a message and gain interest from others to join a movement. This is because it's super eye-catching and intriguing so any viewer would at least take time to look at it, and because it's simple it could be even better as part of a collection e.g. postcards, gifs, posters.

These outcomes came out better than I expected so I am really pleased, and even though the text alone was good, I think it's all the other elements that really brought it together. For example I found that the splodges of paint filled places that text couldn't, and when I incorporated colours the text really stood out. Overall I think I've created two really appealing and intriguing typography artworks, and experimenting with a new style was really fun. I've never been a fan of grunge art nor have I wanted to make this style of art, but during this task I really enjoyed messing around with paint splats and illegible writing.

I started off with a 3x3 grid of squares and wrote out the word 'individuality' with the type tool, I chose this work because it relates to all equality. We should all feel confident to be our own unique individual, and celebrate the individualities of other people, especially the minorities. To type the word out I made sure to use a bold font and in all caps, this made for better collaging and clearer shapes.

With this I created outlines for the type and ungrouped the object, this removed the fact it was a type face and left me able to edit/move each letter individually.

Next I selected a couple letters and duplicated them over to one of the squares, it was important to duplicate the letters and not just drag over so I could select them again if I wanted to. With these I resized them large and placed what I wanted to keep within the square, meaning some can be left outside the box.

I then sent the letters behind the square and selected both together, this allowed me to make a clipping mask which cropped the letter to just be seen if it was in the box. At the same time the box line cannot be seen where the text doesn't cover it, so you're usually left with an interesting shape of letters. I repeated this process to fill every square, experimenting with different sizes, numbers of letters and rotations. This in itself could be an outcome like an unfinished puzzle, except the pieces don't fit and there's plenty of space.

With these cropped letters I began to collage them together, building a larger shape to base the piece around. I did this simply by duplicating them over to a blank canvas, rotating and resizing them to create an appealing collection of these letters. However my first attempt didn't go so well, I attempted to make it so you can easily recognise the word but it still be distorted. Although I could see the word, the whole collage looked unbalanced and not very interesting.

My second attempt was a lot more successful, and I think it's because I let go of boundaries and went for it. I wasn't thinking about how legible it was, I was simply focused on the overall look of the collage. I've also shown an example of how I've used the digital advantaged of precision, where I've zoomed in close to parts where I want to line a letter perfectly with another. In the end I was pleased with how it looked, but there were still a few spots to fill and it in general looked unfinished. You may also notice how all the angles are either 0, 90 or 180°, this decision was inspired by Neville Brody and I think it worked out perfectly and made it easier to collage together.

Next I incorporated dripping splodges of paint/ink, of which helped fill the gaps that I couldn't fill with text because it didn't fit. To add them I copied it from the template and pasted it over, I then played around with the size and placement of the drips to find fitting combinations. Once I'd completed adding the splodges and drips, I felt the piece was much fuller and looked complete. I made sure not to over do it too, otherwise you would lose its effect from being too busy/messy.

Finally I added distressed halftone patterns and colour blocks, this finished off the design and made it really stand out. After downloading the patterns template they automatically appeared on my swatches, therefore all I had to do was select the pattern on my swatches and draw a shape with it as the fill. I then created a new shape but this time filled with a colour, the idea is to have the colour behind the pattern and type. Therefore I sent it to back, then because I changed the pattern from black halftone to white, I also had to send the pattern back. So rather than sending backwards many times, I selected the two rectangles together and send them to the back. I repeated this process multiple times, using different halftones patterns, shapes and colours.

To create the other piece I used the same process, but of course using a different layout, colours, patterns, shapes etc. However something I hadn't incorporated in the first piece was a dirt/dust texture, so for this one I coloured it as white and layer over the whole collage. This added a subtle detail of white specks, giving the black text some texture.

#development #experiment

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kimjongdaely · 5 years ago

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The Art of Sin [Chapter 5] [M]

Gang!AU, Racer!AU, Tattoo Artist!AU

Pairing: Chen x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual situations, vandalism

Summary: He’s an artist. He does it all for the ‘art.’ Tattooing. Racing. Sex. All because he thinks they’re beautiful. There’s no one here that doesn’t know his name, because it’s everywhere. On every graffiti-filled wall, every tattooed skin, every cheer of the crowd. His name is there somewhere, because it’s all his—this world. And when he lays his eyes on you—well, he’s never seen anything more beautiful. And he’s going to make you his masterpiece.

Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3 [M]│Chapter 4 [M]│Chapter 5 [M]│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8 [M]

It’s two weeks later when Chen asks.

“Wanna date?”

For two weeks, you had been visiting EXO’s garage almost every day after you got off work. They welcomed you easily, a few shrugs and glances, because apparently it’s been a while since Chen had been with a girl.

You weren’t sure how you should act around Chen at first. You had sex, went on a date...learned what he really does. You should be terrified, but somehow, you’re not.

Chen never pushed you into anything. He was always casual, easy-going, laidback. He let you come, let you go, let you make your own decisions. You wonder if he knew that very first night that you wouldn’t be able to leave.

Like a butterfly caught in a spiderweb.

His question surprised you, but wasn’t exactly unexpected. The way you acted around each other felt couple-y already. He’s comfortable to be around, with that chill attitude, like nothing in the world really matters.

Your answer was, of course, “Sure.” You tried to act cool about it, calm and casual like the way he asked. It’s a lot harder than it seems, because your heart nearly jumped out of your throat, your hands clammy.

So that’s it. You’re dating him now.

Making it ‘official’ didn’t really change much in your relationship. You went to him every afternoon, went to two or three races but you have yet to see him race. You see this guy known as Kai race a lot. Chen introduced you to him once after he won a race (you’re told he’s never lost...until...Chen didn’t finish that thought). He seems nice enough, flirty and smooth, but nice. There’s something in his eyes though, a kind of exhaustion that makes you worry for him.

Chen said that he would be racing tonight. Told you to wear something nicer, just to fit in. You’re ‘his’ girl now. Doesn’t seem too strange he’d want to show you off.

You wear skinny jeans, a black crop top and a leather jacket. Your hair is up in a high ponytail, because you know the races tend to get heated very quickly.

When you get there, the crowd already seems to be pretty high and in full-swing. There are a lot more people than any race you’ve ever been to, a sight that makes you gulp nervously. It’s loud, so damn loud the floor pulses along with each note blasting through speakers, lights flashing all around.

You push through the crowd, trying to find EXO. They should be at the very front, next to the tracks.

“Excuse me.” You murmur, feeling incredibly small amongst the bodies of people. You almost get crushed a few times before you finally reach the front. You find Chen and his friends chatting, Kai is with him. He spots you, smiling and giving you a wave.

When you reach him, he wraps you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Glad you could make it.“

“’Course.” You answer. “I wanted to see you race.”

He grins, sharing a glance with Kai who gives him a shrug.

“Well,” a deep voice rumbles in a chuckle, making a shiver run down your spine. You turn to face the speaker, a big man with a mean smile, ragged scars littered on his arms are shown off. “You ready for the race, boys?”

“Sure,” Kai answers easily, sharing another look with Chen. Kai doesn’t seem exactly pleased, though he keeps a cool composure. “You ain’t gonna back out from the deal, right?”

“’Course not, I’m a man of my word.” He says it humorously, gesturing at himself grandly. “I tell ya what? If you can win against me and my bro, I’ll buy all of your cars, no questions asked.”

Chen’s eyes shines. “Heh, pretty confident, aren’t ya?”

The man’s smile is wicked now, a threatening glint in his eyes. “’Course.”

Chen shrugs, an easy smile growing on his face. “Alright then. Let’s get this party started.”

You watch as the man and a friend of his gets into their respective cars. You can’t help but admire their cars; the guy just now has a shiny silver Subaru, not a speck of dirt on it.

Chen scoffs quietly beside you, Kai already getting ready to start. “Pity that car’s gonna get a few scars after tonight.”

“You’re really that confident?” You frown at him, feeling unease tickle your insides. They look tough, and scary. You wonder what kind of deal they made.

“Sure.” Chen winks at you. “Watch me, princess.”

He gets into his car, a white Nissan Skyline. You hear the engines rev to life, the flag girl blowing kisses to the crowd that cheers wildly, hyped for the upcoming race. When the flag goes down, the four cars zoom off, kicking up dirt.

You watch nervously as they glide smoothly down the track, Kai’s car clearly in the lead with the other team a close second. Chen is third. You watch his car intently, praying he’ll be able to override second place, but somehow it seems like that isn’t even his goal.

You watch in confusion as he seems to slow down, inching closer to the car in last place. He’s too close, and you can tell the other guy is nervous, afraid he’ll scratch or bump into his car, and he swerves left, trying hard to avoid him. Chen doesn’t let up though, continuing inching towards the guy’s car until he’s forced against the edges of the track. The guy tries to push back, tilting his car in hopes to get ahead of Chen, but the angle is off and he loses control of his car, spinning off the tracks. Chen speeds up as they come to a curve, going directly in front of the car that is in second place, replacing it. He blocks the car no matter which side it goes, as if Chen can predict his reactions.

He’s rigging the race! You gasp, wondering if anyone else notices, or if they even care. You glance at Chen’s friends, seeing the guy named Yeol smoke carelessly, looking bored out of his mind, his hand that isn’t holding the cigarette seemingly itching for something to do.

Either no one can see, or no one even cares. They just came for a good time, placing bets, drinking and getting high.

When they zoom past the finish line, it’s clear they Kai and Chen have won. The crowd is wild, cheering so loud you think you might go deaf. The other guy gets out of his car angrily, slamming the car door shut and stomping over to Chen, yelling at him.

You can see Chen’s easygoing smile, his careless shrug as Kai takes over. “A win is a win.” You can barely hear him say over the yelling, but you try reading his lips. “It’s our win, big guy.”

“You fucking cheated!” The other guy roars, face red and looking like he might explode at any second.

“What?” Chen looks convincingly shocked and offended. “You don’t have proof, man. Don’t be a sore loser.”

The man seems at loss for words now, sputtering incoherently before he stomps away with his friend.

When Chen and Kai come back, Kai obviously has a bitter look on his face, though he winks and grins at anyone who waves at him—especially the girls.

“Hey, good job guys.” Yeol says, blowing out smoke which you cough at.

Kai huffs, a growl leaving his lips. “Yeah, whatever.” He pushes through the crowd, seemingly upset.

Chen shrugs at you, giving you a wink. “He’ll drink it off.”

“You rigged the race.” You hiss, eyes narrowing on him.

He shrugs again, “And?”

“What do you mean ‘and?’” You exclaim in disbelief. “You cheated!”

“Yeah, well we gotta ensure a win somehow.” Chen says lowly, making sure no one hears. “This is our turf. We make the rules. Ain’t no one coming in here, challenge us and win. But it only happens occasionally, when we have a lot to lose. Most of the time we let Kai do his thing—he wins anyways, but sometimes we just need to make sure, ya know?”

You frown, deciding to hold your tongue. You knew they were the types to do illegal things to begin with. You decided to date him despite that. You don’t have any right to say what he’s doing is wrong—everything about him is wrong, but you’re with him regardless, isn’t that right?

“Aw, sweetheart.” He coos, pulling you close, lips finding that sweet spot below your ear. “Don’t be upset. It’s how we do things around here.”

“I’m not upset.” You lie, trying to act nonchalant. You chose him, and there’s no going back.

“How about we go for a ride?” He asks. “Get some air?”

“That sounds nice.” You manage a smile, a little excited you get to see him drive up close. And to get away from the sweaty, loud crowd and flashing lights. A drive sounds really, really nice right now.

He ushers you towards his car, which is still surrounded by people after having finished the race. They let him through though, some clapping him on the back and giving him high-fives. You feel gazes on you that make you shiver, disgusted and Chen pulls you closer, throwing a glare at whoever looks at you wrong.

He opens the door to the passenger seat for you, making dramatic movements like a gentleman. You can’t help but laugh, getting in. He gets into the driver seat, revving up the engine and you can feel it rumble underneath you.

“This car’s my baby.” He says as he drives off, the crowd opening up a track for him to get out. It’s instantly quiet once he gets out the vicinity of EXO Customs. “92’ Nissan Skyline GT-R R32. Had it since college.”

“College?” You ask, never having head him mention it before. “What’d you study?”

“Art.” He answers, tone a little tighter than usual. His hold on the wheel is loose though, careless. You can’t help but stare at how good he looks driving like this, with his sleeves rolled up, hair pushed back from the wind, a lazy feel to him. “Always loved putting my mark on things. Seemed the obvious choice.”

“What about racing?” You watch him, see the way he glances at the rearview mirror, out the window. His neck is very pretty, you note, every time he turns his head.

“Eh, racing is just another hobby.” He says casually. “When I met the guys, it’s all they did. Met them during high school. After we got out, I needed money to go to college, and they helped me with it. Couldn’t do it without ‘em.”

“Didn’t your parents pay for tuition?” You frown at that, wondering why an 18 year old kid fresh out of high school did things like that just to get into college.

You see his jaw clench, his hold on the wheel tightening, though his expression stays the same. “They weren’t the best.”

“Oh.” You don’t ask further. You feel like if you pushed it, he might snap at you, or just ignore you.

“Hey,” he says after a while of silence, a hand placed gently on your thigh. “I know a pretty place just up the hill.”

When he parks his car, you look up in awe at the stars glimmering in the sky. You rarely see stars in the middle of the city, but out here, it’s beautiful. You smile widely, counting the stars and wondering if you might be able to get to a million.

He chuckles. “You like it?”

“Yeah.” You beam at him. “Thanks, Chen.”

He seems pleased at your reaction, giving your thigh a squeeze.

“What do you wish for, Chen?” You ask, relaxing your body against the seat.

“I dunno.” He answers. “What about you?”

You think for a moment, watching how the stars shimmered like diamonds. “Maybe for you to be happy.”

He’s silent.

“Hey,” he pushes the seat back, climbing over to the backseat. He settles comfortably, patting his lap. “Come here.”

Hearing the growl in his voice, you instantly feel yourself grow hot. You climb to the back, sitting on his lap, your thighs on either side of him.

“Undress.” He murmurs, lips trailing your collarbone and your fingers are shaky when you peel off your leather jacket. It’s way too hot for that now.

His tongue peeks out to lick the dip of your collarbone, tracing the butterfly he tattooed for you. His tongue is searing on your skin, and his fingers trace circles against your waist.

You feel yourself begin to grow wet already. You move to take off your crop top, letting your breasts loose.

He grins, pleased by the position as he moves to kiss them, nibbling and sucking, leaving hickeys. You’ve grown used to him leaving hickeys everywhere, and you always try to cover them up with concealer before you go to work.

“Keep going.” He growls against your skin as he feels you stop, arching against his mouth.

You let out a quiet whimper, feeling embarrassed for doing this yourself. Your trembling fingers move to your jeans, and you stand in order to push them off along with your underwear. When you settle back on him, the texture of his pants makes you moan.

“You sound so sexy.” He chuckles, his fingers dancing across your skin, down, down, down to tease at your entrance. “Wet already?”

You let out a soft whine, feeling him stroke you gently. It’s not enough though. You push his hand away, seeing him watch you with both surprise and amusement. You adjust yourself, shifting so you’re settled over his thigh, and you begin to slowly rock yourself.

He chuckles, clearly amused at what you’re trying to do. “Thigh riding, princess? You like this?” He presses his thigh harder against you and you moan, nodding as your hips go a little faster. The rough fabric of his pants adds a delicious bonus to your pleasure.

“Look at you.” He mumbles, his voice low and deep, vibrating through you and you clench harder, going faster to get more friction. “You’re so wet you’re staining my pants.”

“Chen.” You breathe out, your cheeks flushed and sweat beginning to bud on your skin. “I—”

“Want some help?” He grins, fingers coming to rub your clit slowly. “You gonna come, princess?”

You nod your head, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, letting his scent fill you. “G-Go faster.”

He complies, rubbing you faster as you continue going back and forth on his thigh, wanting to clench around something. You can feel your orgasm approach swiftly, almost there and you move your hips more desperately against him, your moans increasing in volume.

His fingers stop, and his hands come to hold your hips, halting you. “Wait princess,” he chuckles darkly as you whimper and whine, trying to shimmy your hips to no avail. “I can’t let you have all the fun now, can I?”

He unbuckles his pants and you wait in absolute torture as he slowly pulls out his dick, already rock hard with arousal. He sees how eager you are, so he leans back with his arms thrown over the seats, waiting for you to make your move.

You hold him gently in your palms, running your fingers over his length, feeling smug when you hear him hiss at the feeling. You stroke his head, feeling the precum beading already. Some other time you’ll give him a blow job, you decide. But not today, because you’re too needy.

You pump him a few times, getting him ready although you know he’s plenty ready already. You slowly lift yourself, using his shoulders as leverage before you line yourself up with him, dropping as slowly as you can, clenching yourself around him torturously as revenge.

You feel his breath quicken, his hot puffs of breath mingling with yours. He holds your hips steady as you sink down fully, staying there for a moment to adjust.

“Fuck.” He swears, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. “You’re so tight like this.”

You clench again at his deep, sexy voice, and he immediately growls in return. You get a better grip on his shoulders, wanting to kiss him but he’s already working on your neck, sucking the spot under your ear. You brace yourself, lifting yourself up before sinking down again, mewling at that beautiful feeling.

His hold on you tightens as he helps you find a rhythm, rocking him. You slowly build your pace, increasing in speed as you try to get a better position. He angles himself, timing it right and pushing up whenever you come back down, hitting your sweet spot. You throw your head back, practically screaming as he does so.

He adds his fingers, rubbing your clit again as your orgasm builds. Your grip on him tightens as your legs begin to grow weak from the pleasure. It’s hard to keep the pace, beginning to become sloppy.

“You close?” He breathes out and you nod vigorously, whimpering when his fingers and hips move even faster. “Me too, princess. Cum with me.”

You nod again, finding it hard to breathe in this small space. He body is so close, so hot against yours and you suddenly wish he had taken all his clothes off too so you could feel his skin on yours.

“Ah, I-I’m—” You almost sob as you finally reach your high, feeling the pleasure spike and wrack through your body. You shudder, grinding hard against him and with a few more thrusts he comes too.

You continue rocking, grinding against him even after your highs, and he squeezes your hips to stop you. “Good job, princess.” He presses a kiss to your temple, the edge of your jaw as you whimper in response.

He removes you from him, getting some tissues he has in his car to clean you up before helping you back into your clothes.

“Ready to head back?” He asks and you nod, settling back into your seat, trying to catch your breath. He chuckles as he revs the engine again.

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rana-tiddalik · 5 years ago

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Space Whales

(Thanks to @beka-tiddalik for the prompt for this, which was “space whales”.)

The ship was well beyond the Oort Cloud when they found the Space Whales.

Irina had been running the routine diagnostics on the systems when she had picked up some weird electromagnetic interference. She was routing it through the speakers on the bridge to try and puzzle out the source when she heard a strangled cry and the pounding of feet in the corridor. It was her passenger. Vincent Cartwright. The scientist that the ISA had chartered an entire barge to bring to one of their interstellar labs. Him alone. Well, him and whatever was in the black box in the cargo hold.

“That sound… is that live? Where is it coming from?” he said, eyes wild.

“Glitch in the external EM sensor arrays I think. Probably some feedback.” She frowned. “Never heard anything like it though. It’s eerie.”

He wasn’t listening, he had pushed past her to the console and started working the controls.

“OI!” Irina shouted, grabbing him and hurling him back.

“What are you doing?” he shouted, eyes wild as he caught hold of one of the chairs to keep from sprawling on the cold metal floor. “What are YOU doing Terran?” Irina snarled back. Her fury cut through his indignation and he shrank away from her. She jabbed a finger at him. “ISA might need your brain, but you even look at my helm controls again without my say-so, that’s the only part of you they’re going to get.”

Vincent raised his hands “OK.” He said, face pale. “You’re right. I apologise. I should not have touched your ship. But please.” He said, looking pleadingly at the controls. “That isn’t feedback it’s actually something of huge significance, so could you please do a full long range sensor sweep before we lose them forever?”

“Lose what?” said Irina, eyes narrowing.

“Fuck me.” She said, ten minutes later, staring at the screen, jaw slack. The colossal beings danced through the void, their fins fully unfurled, billowing in the streaming solar wind from the distant sun. Their rippling song crackling through the speakers as they called to and clicked at each other in the far reaches of the x-ray spectrum. “I knew it!” said Vincent, laughing uncontrollably. He clapped Irina on the shoulder “Congratulations Captain Miller! We’ve just made second contact.”

“Huh. How about that.” Said Irina, shaking her head, eyes transfixed. “How did you know?” she asked. “Hmm?” said Vincent. “The Whales. No one’s seen them for hundred of years though. Nothing confirmed at least. But you recognised their song in an instant. How did you know it was them?” “I’d recognise it anywhere.” He said, dreamily as he drank in the sight. “I must have watched the old tapes every day as a kid. I always dreamed of finding them again, and hunting for any other life that might exist out here.” He looked at her, eyes gleaming. “Come on captain! Fire up your drones. We’ve got work to do.”

At first there was another argument between Vincent and Irina over whether they should divert from the route to trail them. Vincent’s zeal for this once in centuries scientific opportunity vied with Irina’s concern over fuel and food supplies. This was resolved once they realised that the whales were following them, trailing along in their wake.

“What are they doing?” said Irina, eyeing the readouts suspiciously. “Feeding.” Said Vincent. As they watched, the front end of their main body split open, and a translucent billowing sheet spilled out. It shimmered with a ghostly fire. Vincent smiled. “Do you see that? They’re feeding off the ion stream from our engines.” “It’s beautiful.” Irina whispered, looking at the auroral glimmer. “Optical baleen.” Said Vincent, sighing. “It’s unbelievable stuff. My great many times over aunt did some of the original studies of it back in the 22nd century. She famously said it’s the most complex structure in the known universe.” “That’s a hell of a claim.” Scoffed Irina. “Isn’t that meant to be the brain?” “Oh my word no.” Said Vincent. He squinted at the monitor “That sheet is about, what, the size of a football field? Maybe a field and a half? If you unpacked its effective surface area and laid it flat, you’d be able to wrap the whole Earth like a present and have enough left for the moon. It’s a got such a dense, space filling fractal structure that it can hoover up stray hydrogen atoms from the void. Even photons have a hard time getting through it.” “Gotcha. Very complex.” She scratched her nose. “So. You reckon it’s safe to fire up the pod and see them up close?” Their matching grins indicated that neither actually cared about the answer to that.

Irina changed her tune once they’d gotten closer.

“You’re sure this is safe?” said Irina, peering through the cockpit window. “Yes. Perfectly safe.” Said Vincent. “You sure? What about…?” she gestured. “The tethers?” “Yeah. Those things look pretty grabby.” “We’ll be fine.” He paused “Probably.” He said sheepishly. “If they try to grab us, I’m dumping you out the airlock first.” Said Irina, glaring suspiciously at them. “What a way to go though.” She said. They had been invisible from the ship, nearly a hundred kilometres away, but this close they could see that the skin of the creatures bristled with a forest of prehensile hairs. Vincent pointed out that longer, thicker strands formed the ribbing of the great billowing fins, and the optic baleen, allowing them to move the great sheets, waving them about to give the appearance of drifting in some kind of aetherial breeze.

Irina watched as two Whales drifted close together, and the filaments stretched out to each other, to briefly entangle, or scrape across the other’s carapace. “We think that’s how they communicate.” Vincent whispered. “That and those x-ray clicks we picked up.” The scale of them was also something that had been lost on the monitor. Irina’s cargo freighter was about the same size as its terrestrial sea-going equivalent. It could have fit at least twice over inside any of the Whales. The pod they were currently in could seat 8, and would have barely been a speck of dirt in their eyes. Irina squinted at them. “Where are their eyes?” “They don’t have them.” Said Vincent. “Not a specific organ at least. Actually, since their entire skin is photosensitive, so I guess technically you could say that their entire body is one giant eye.” Irina’s eyes narrowed. “There. On that one.” She pointed at one of them. Its carapace was marked with a striking discoloured band looped arounf its body “Are those… scars?” She asked. “I don’t know.” Said Vincent, zooming the external lens to snap a series of pictures of the markings. The magnification revealed that the band was caused by long deep scratches in the skin. “There are records of similar patterns on members of the first pod.” He mused. They both considered what could have left these deep wounds in the Whale. Irina shuddered.

She activated the launch sequence. The drones flew off, carrying the long range beacons. “You sure those beacons will attach OK, Doc?” Vincent nodded “Standard ship plating should be identical to their carapace in all the ways important for the beacon. So yes, short answer.” “Huh. That’s convenient.” Said Irina. “Well, not really. Ship plating was designed from studying their carapace. Just like the molecular bonders on the base of the drone were modelled after their tethers.” Irina blinked. “Wait, really?” Vincent laughed. “They don’t teach how we came to have this tech in flight school.” Irina shrugged “I guess they were more interested in teaching us how to fly these barges, rather than their history.” “Fair point.” Said Vincent. “But still, considering just how important those things have been to our development, I’m surprised it isn’t better known. At the time of our first encounter with them back in 2104, we had a few space stations and a struggling ‘colony’ on the moon. By the time they left our solar system again 60 odd years later, we’d arrived on the moons of Saturn. The first person walked on Pluto before the 23rd century. It was all because of what we learned from them. Even after all this time, it’s incredible just how much of our tech is still based on our only other encounter with them.” “And how much is that?” asked Irina, leaning back in her chair, monitoring the pings from the drones. “Uh…” said Vincent, scratching his head “Approximately all of it?” Irina glanced around the pod “No shit?” she said. “No shit.” Said Vincent. “The hull plating is designed around their carapace. Our sensors are based on their skin, sensitive to the faintest electromagnetic emissions. Our suit material is derived from their fins, tough and flexible. The reactors and engines exploit the same metabolic reactions that let them turn occasional hydrogen atoms and space dust into enough energy to maintain something that size” he gestured out the window. “Hell, this pod is so like them, they’re probably not bothered by us being this close because they think we’re a tiny, mute calf.” “Wow.” Said Irina, letting out a long breath, watching the tethers of the nearby Whale extend toward them, but they were just out of reach. “Just as long as they don’t try and suckle us.”

They arrived back in the docking bay to the applause of the rest of the crew. As Irina chatted to her quartermaster, Vincent checked over his precious package. A car sized crate, hermetically sealed and heavily shielded. Irina nudged it with her boot. “Please don’t.” Said Vincent. “Why? Is it dangerous?” said Irina. “I told your bosses I didn’t want to ship anything dangerous.” “No. The shielding is blocking all the radiation that could harm us. Our friends out there must be getting quite a show though. To them this ship must be lit up like a lighthouse.” He frowned. “Which might explain why they’ve suddenly showed up after a couple of centuries. Interesting…” Irina frowned. “They’re not going to try and get at it are they? We aren’t carrying their favourite snack or anything, right?” “Oh no. We’re perfectly safe. I think.” Irina sighed and shook her head. “When you’re done, meet me on the bridge. I want to go over the offloading procedures when we get to the station. Want to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

As they talked on the bridge, the clicks of the Whales played through the speakers. They had gotten used to the sound over the last day or two, and found it strangely soothing. All of a sudden, it changed. The pitch shifted higher, and louder, a urgent, trilling call. As they watched, one by one they retracted their baleen, pulled in their fins, and scattered away from the ship, fading away into darkness. Silence fell on the bridge. “That’s odd.” Said Vincent. He squinted at the monitor. The stars flickered and grew dim. “Sensor fault?” he asked. Irina shrugged and sat in the chair to call for someone to check it out. Then ship lurched and pitched wildly, as the superstructure groaned under sudden pressure. Vincent fell to the ground. Irina was strapping in, shouting curt questions and instructions into the comms, and screaming at Vincent to attach his safety line. There was another groan and a number of alarms went off all at once. The ship listed violently from side to side, and Vincent was tossed around the bridge. He registered Irina swearing loudly, and punching buttons, followed by the unmistakable whine of the engines powering up, and the ship vibrated, but no response. Irina screamed and pushed more buttons, but to no avail. Then there was a final crash, and then came the kick of sudden acceleration. Vincent was thrown against the rear wall, cracking the back of his head, and slipping into unconsciousness.

He awoke two days later in the med bay of the ISA station. As soon as he was cleared to leave, he tracked down Irina, to find out what had happened. He found her in the docking bay, staring at her ship. Vincent gaped in disbelief. It looked like something had latched around the rear third of the ship. The plating on the ship was dented and cracked, and marked all around by a series of long thin gashes torn in a familiar pattern all around the hull.

Vincent, Irina and her whole crew were sworn to secrecy over the whole matter, and heavily compensated for their troubles. And silence. The ISA ‘acquired’ the ship for further study. Vincent was provided with the data, in the thoughts that he could help. He couldn’t. Like everyone else he had no idea what had occurred. He spent the rest of his time on the station confined in his quarters, watching the footage over and over again, with the ship’s sensor data synchronised and scrolling on another screen. No matter how long he looked, nothing made sense. All that could be seen was that suddenly something descended on the ship. Something that blotted out the stars and was invisible on every spectrum of radiation the sensors could detect. A roiling cloud in space. When it enveloped the rear of the ship, every sensor immediately died. The thing latched on so hard it resisted the pull of the subluminal engines. The strain had nearly torn the ship in half. Then, out of the darkness, came one of the Whales. The sensor’s picked up its last cries as it tore toward the thing attacking the ship. It shrieked as it came, fins fully unfurled, and strange fluorescent patterns flickering along its tendrils. It rammed into the thing covering the ship, lost in its murky depths in an instant. Then bright flashes of light, and intense gamma bursts pierced through the cloud, illuminating it from with in, and projecting strange shadows that ISA would puzzle over for years to come. The grip on the ship loosened, and Irina had taken the opportunity to go to full burn, and they were free. They ran hot for hours, until the Whales, and whatever new form of life they had discovered were far behind them. Vincent didn’t know why the Whale had done that for them. Perhaps they really did see human ships as small, mute calves. Perhaps it was pure instinct to either drive it away or sacrifice itself to protect the other members of the pod. Maybe he had it wrong, and it was the whales that were hunting the other life form, using their ship as bait. He would never know, but he hoped the Whale had somehow survived.

Vincent, Irina and the crew caught the very first transport back to the solar system. With the compensation money, Irina bought herself a new ship, and secured a loan to buy a second. Enough to start her own freight company. Within a few years her ships zig-zagged all around the solar system. Her company struggled after the new generation drives came on the market (although their release had been delayed when one of the ISA’s deep space research labs vanished without a trace. Most thought an experiment had gone super-critical. Only Vincent and Irina suspected otherwise). She stubbornly stuck to the old reliable drives, and flatly refused to fly in any ship that used them. Eventually, she sold off the company and retired to Mars. Vincent had been offered an tenured position at the station. It was everything he had ever dreamed of: to lead the tracking of the Whales he had marked, and continue study of the experimental drive. He had declined. He would only leave Earth twice again in his life, and never ventured into interstellar space again.

#writing #sci-fi #fiction #space whales

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janelevy · 5 years ago

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#3 + Rhekker from the fluffy prompt list... Hopefully you’re still doing those😉😊😍

#3 from the fluff list = “what did you do?”

summary: to celebrate their son’s fifth birthday, connor and ava take him camping, and it doesn’t take long for things to go awry. basically just domestic rhekker and them being the dorkiest parents ever!

a/n: i have no idea why i thought of camping. i guess i thought of the most opposite thing from being doctors in a hospital, and this is what i came up with. needless to say, connor feels a bit out of place in the wilderness haha!

When Connor suggested going on a camping trip to celebrate Charlie’s fifth birthday, Ava’s first thought was to ask him if he hit his head recently.

“Oh, come on, Avey. I’m not going insane. It’s just camping.” Connor was at the stove stirring a pot of macaroni while Ava diced onions at the counter behind him. He turned down the heat and set the wooden spoon aside, moving to face his wife from across the kitchen island. “I mean, how bad can it be?”

“Asking that question is setting you up for failure.” Ava pushed the onion pieces together on the cutting board, only pausing her work briefly to give him a giant eye roll. “Listen, I just find it hard to imagine Connor Rhodes, distinguished surgeon and proud Porsche owner, going out and— oh, what’s it called— ‘roughing it’ in the wilderness.”

He chuckled, but she didn’t miss the hint of exasperation behind his words. “Okay, first off, you also happen to be a distinguished surgeon. And secondly, we’re obviously going to take your car, not mine. We’ll need, like... a tent and whatever else. All that stuff won’t fit in Mr. Grey.”

“I still think it’s about time to sell Mr. Grey and get a nice, safe, dad car. Did you look at those links I sent about the Honda—”

“— the Honda Odyssey, yes, I did see those. More like Odyssey to imminent boredom, though.” Connor shook his head and leaned on the counter to meet her eyes, which were watering from the onions. “Avey, you know we agreed we’re not having any more kids. There’s only three of us. Why do we need a minivan? They’re so... bleh.” He shuddered and stood up again. “Anyway, you’re changing the subject. Don’t think you’re so sneaky.”

“Damn. Foiled me again,” she teased. “But seriously, Connor. The main reason I’m protesting this is because I’m concerned for you. You’d be uncomfortable for an entire weekend. Charlie and I would be fine. He adores mummy-son hikes, and I spent most of my childhood outside in the backyard digging up insects.”

“You also spent a lot of your childhood doing creepy fake surgeries on your stuffed animals,” Connor countered.

“It— it was practice!” she sputtered, unable to suppress the smile that formed in response to his smirk. “Anyway, that has nothing to do with what we’re talking about. I just want to do something all three of us will equally enjoy.”

Connor frowned then, his expression growing more earnest. “Avey, I already asked him what he wants to do. He... seemed super enthused by this idea. I’m not about to tell him no. I don’t care if I have to spend a few days covered in dirt and bug bites and whatever else. I want our baby to be happy.”

She paused in her work, setting the knife down and sighing. “Well, that changes it. The most important thing is what Charlie wants.” Without warning Ava circled around the counter to pull Connor into her arms. She sighed into his shoulder, turning her head so she could speak clearly. “He’s not really a baby anymore, is he?”

At her sniffle, Connor pressed a kiss on her head and murmured, “He’ll be our baby forever if we want him to be. Even when he’s the grouchiest teenager in the world, he’ll still be our baby. Even when he’s forty, he’ll still be our baby.” He gazed past her out to the living room, where their son was crouched on the carpet building towers with the big toddler-friendly Lego blocks.

“He will definitely be the grouchiest teenager in the world. With both of our DNA in him? Yikes,” Ava said. They shared a laugh then, and as Connor went to drain the pasta, she added, “Looks like we’re taking a trip to Bass Pro tomorrow to get some gear.”

Connor glanced over his shoulder, throwing her his millionth smile of the day. All these years, and he still couldn’t help grinning like an idiot around her. “Little dude is gonna be so thrilled,” he told her. And he was right.

Come next weekend, however, they were no longer feeling quite as thrilled about camping. They secured three entire days off, and they planned to savor every minute of them. So on the first Saturday in July, two days before Charlie’s official birthday, they packed up Ava’s SUV and drove out to the wooded shoreline of Lake Michigan and set up camp on a sandy patch near the water. Before Connor even got in the car, he had already layered himself with bug spray and sunscreen, and made sure Ava and Charlie were thoroughly covered as well. It was only after an entire hour-long car ride and unpacking at the campsite when they realized a smear of white zinc had accidentally been left on Charlie’s nose. Ava spent the rest of the day teasing him about it, and Connor waited until they were grilling hot dogs that night to retaliate and “accidentally” squirt a ton of sunblock all over her back. It got all over her tank top and hair, and the way she cursed him in between bouts of laughter drew him to take a midnight dip in the lake with her well within view of their tent, where an overstimulated Charlie had fallen asleep before it was even dark out. That first night swimming below the stars together, with dragonflies and fireflies swirling all around them, was perfect. They had never felt so far away from the city before.

Then came the next morning.

Connor was the first to rouse, rolling over to find Ava and Charlie still deep in slumber. He tousled his son’s hair affectionately; the kid had been passed out for several hours now. That had been bound to happen, though, considering Charlie sprang out of bed yesterday morning at 4 AM because he was too excited to sleep.

Connor sat up and kicked the sleeping bag off his legs. It was fiercely hot and pretty stuffy in the tent, so his t-shirt was sticking to him like a second skin. He reached over to his things and pulled a pair of khaki shorts on over his boxers, grunting at the limited space and his sweaty, sticky arms and legs. This was not the definition of luxury, that was for sure. At least none of them had gotten any bug bites or ticks or sunburn or leeches or whatever else was out there. Nobody was getting any wounds on his watch.

He had to pee pretty bad, and thankfully Ava had found a campsite that had public restrooms close by to use. Connor had confessed he thought wiping his ass with a leaf was going a bit too far, and luckily she’d conceded. The bathrooms didn’t exactly have spotless marble countertops and hot water, but they were better than nothing.

So Connor crawled carefully around his son, who was sprawled in between his parents’ sleeping places, and unzipped the flap on the tent (it was a fancy model, and he didn’t even want to know how much it had cost. Whatever the price was had to be too much. But again he had to remind himself— this was all for Charlie. That made it worth it).

Connor didn’t even spare a glance towards their supplies until he came lumbering back from the restrooms. And when he saw what was in front of him, he froze, jaw on the leafy ground.

It was all gone. Every last speck of food was devoured by... some kind of animal. Upon closer inspection at the tattered wrappers and claw marks left behind in the picnic table, it must’ve been a bear. Maybe two bears. Or wolves. God, what the hell lived out here? Connor gritted his teeth and spared the tent a swift glance. Ava wasn’t awake yet. Maybe if he was quick, he could take the car to the nearest convenience store and try to replenish all they’d brought.

But right then, to his horror, he saw his wife’s shadow sit up in the tent, and he heard her sleeping bag rustling. Panic roaring in his blood, Connor zoomed over and right as Ava began to unzip the flap, he stuck his head in the gap and smiled way too widely at her.

“Good morning, Avey! Sleep well?” he asked breathlessly.

She jumped back, startled by his sudden appearance. And of course, she smelled the bullshit all too easily. “... what did you do?” Ava replied, tilting her head as she stretched her arms behind her back and yawned. One eyebrow was up in a high arch, which was already a bad sign.

“Connor,” Ava said when he didn’t answer. Her voice was curt yet gentle. “Honey. What happened?”

He bit his tongue and gave a partial shrug. “Ahh... well... I- I guess you should see for yourself.”

Reluctantly he moved back and allowed her to crawl out of the tent and survey the remains of their food supplies. Right away she surged forward, hands scrabbling over the now empty tabletop. She grasped at empty, chewed-up wrappers, tossing them on the ground in shock and whirling back to face him. “This was supposed to last us two more days, Connor! I thought you secured all this stuff in the car overnight?”

Connor hung his head and let out a long, slow breath. “I... I forgot.” Then he sprang into action, darting back to the tent and retrieving the car keys. “But I can fix it! I’ll go run to the store right now and I’ll be back before Charlie even wakes up.”

Of course, as soon as that left his mouth they heard their son call sleepily from the tent. Then seconds later the little boy emerged from the tent, scratching his messy dark hair.

Ava forced a relaxed smile onto her face, going over to pick him up and hug him to full awakeness. “Good morning, nunu. Did you have sweet dreams?”

“Very sweet dreams, mommy,” Charlie yawned. He squinted his hazel eyes against the sunlight and buried his cheek in his mother’s shoulder the exact same way Ava nestled her face into Connor’s chest. His chubby little fingers played with golden wisps of Ava’s sleep-ruffled hair. “I’m hungry.”

“Don’t worry, little man, I’m gonna go get us something good to eat,” Connor said. He approached them and dropped a kiss on both their cheeks.

“You better,” Ava replied, keeping the threatening tone to a minimum for Charlie’s sake.

Connor unlocked the car and glanced back at her, offering one more apologetic grin. “McDonald’s?” he asked.

“Yes, McDonald’s.”

“I’ll be back soon. Love you.” With that, Connor got in the car and carefully drove off down the gravelly path.

Ava watched him go while rubbing circles into Charlie’s back. “Love you too, Dr. Buffoon.”

#chicago med #connor rhodes #ava bekker #rhekker #fanfic

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boneybabbles · 5 years ago

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A book I will never write: Project 1

The air smelled of ale, greasy burgers, overcooked onion rings, and fumes. The thin, swinging wooden doors that led straight to the tavern next door did not keep out the rowdy noise of the crowd within. As glass shattered, shouts got louder, and the sound of bone on bone drifted from beyond the doors and thin walls, Andromeda looked out of the grimy window at the cloudless, dark purple sky. In all the hours she had been stuck in this stuffy, stinky store, kept away from the gorgeous open sky; there had only been one customer.

A too chirpy vacationing couple that used this rotting store as a quick pit stop.

“Have you ever taken the summer to roadtrip to all the planets?” they said.

“Do you know if any of the Great Attractions are good along the way?” Inquired the tall male with a spiked hair and the common opalescent skin.

The female next to him, equally tall but instead with rough, red skin and black rope like hair had the gall to ask

“What kind of girl is stuck here for the summer, instead of being out with her friends?”. Andromeda begrudgingly replied politely to all their questions as they paid for their snacks, drinks, and a map. Even though all she wanted to do was snap back at them, she had a paycheck that she desperately wanted.

Once the couple climbed into their rounded ship and glided away, there had been not a soul since. Unless you count the usual brutes in the tavern as customers.

Andromeda sighed what was probably the longest and heaviest sigh in history. The sigh was so long that by the end of it, her lungs burned and she might as well have been spitting fire. She turned from the pathetic and grimy window to the clock that sat above the squeaky glass door. Tick.. Tick… Tick…. The seconds seemed to taunt her, letting her know she still had two miserable hours left of her horrid shift in this disgusting fuel-stop shop. Andromeda would much rather spend these slow hours at home with Horus.

She looked around the small, cluttered, dusty, repulsive fuel-stop store. It's a wonder this place is still open she thought while she leaned onto the front counter. The cluttered aisles were pushed too close together. The floor was more dirt, grime and gods knows what than actual flooring. And usually dead rodents could be found in the corners around the store!

The only source of income were the nasty freighters that stopped by once or twice a week depending on their shipping routes. The freighters were more strongly built beasts, then civilized beings. They all smelled, they all had dirty, foul mouths (not that Andromeda was much better) and she doubted any of them knew what manners even were. Still, they mostly only came for the tavern next door and the freighter parking where they could park to get a few hours of sleep before they were off again.

At last, Andromeda’s shift was over! She was already out the door before the next employee even crossed the nasty store’s threshold. She ran for where her hoverboard was tucked behind the back of the store, a long sleek oval of metal that could zoom a few feet above the ground because of Aristaeus strong magnetic core. Without hesitation Andromeda jumped on her board and zoomed out of the lot, the desert terrain of the planet's surface whizzing under her as she raced home under the forever purple sky.

The ride home was filled with wind, dust, and the endless starway beneath her. As soon as Andromeda glided into the sandy grounds of her family's home, she ditched her board near the stucco house and ran straight for the matching barn.

The barn had a feed room, tack room, a loft, and ten stalls. Only seven used for mytaugh. Mytaugh were horse like creatures that might be the outcome if someone were to mix a draft horse with a plant that sprouted from starlight. They were beautiful creatures that came in infinite colors and patterns with personalities just as unique. Mytaugh are esteemed beings because they choose only one person to bond and ride with forever. It is an honor to be chosen by a mytaugh.

When Andromeda reached the plain rock barn, she went straight to Horus. He whipped his large powerful head around and let out a small, happy screech when the oblivious mytaugh finally realized his person was home.

Andromeda slipped into Horus's stall and began petting the large mytaugh. The two were complete opposites. Night and day, dusk and dawn, water and fire, air and earth.

Horus was tall with a dark blue coat, so dark it was almost black. He had small specks of lilac on his rump and sock-like markings on his ankle in the same light shade. He was built more like his ancient ancestors, the stocky draft horse, than the wispy, dainty, lithe creatures they were mixed with. Andromeda, on the other hand, was short with light skin. She was so short, she often had to look up at everyone even though she was fully grown, just like them. She had an extremely light opalescent skin shade that was light even for Aristaeus’ standards. Furthermore, she had no interesting markings or traits. And her build was lean and fast, almost like she should play the sports she was oh so bad at.

Andromeda stood there just petting Horus for a while. Finally she vaulted her way onto his back ditching her harness, leaving it in the tack room. Horus walked toward the stall door and turned, allowing Andromeda to unlock it and swing it open. Just like that the two were off, racing out the barn and across the front grounds of their home. They ran and ran and ran until they peaked the top of a very tall hill that led to a wide open plain.

The two went to plain almost daily. Its right behind their family's house after climbing the large hill that hides it from sight. Horus slowed at Andromeda's command and the two stood there looking down on the great stretch of land below. The sassy mytaugh stamped his leg and in an instant his voice was in Andromeda's mind.

"You're not the one standing. Aka doing all the work! Might want to correct that thought of yours."

She rolled her eyes at his outburst. Ok, so they weren't standing on the ridge looking down at the plain. Horus was standing proudly on the ridge while Andromeda sat on his back looking over the plain. He could be so sassy and passive aggressive at times. It was quite funny. Andromeda thought.

With one more thought directed towards Horus, the two were off loping down the hill, moving as one. The hill was tall and steep so Horus had to zigzag down it.

When they reached the base of the hill and the large, sandy, rocky plain, Horus and Andromeda paused. The pair paused there, breathing deeply, feeling each others hearts beat, listening to both of their silent minds. Just like that, as one, they took off like a bullet. They raced across the flat land, eating up the ground before them. Andromeda moved flawlessly with Horus's natural movements. They moved as one. One body, one heart, one mind. Horus let out a thunderous screech of delight.

After hours of running, jumping and playing, Andromeda was left lying on the ground. Horus was behind her laying down also. Andromeda had her head resting on his side like he was a pillow. She was looking up at the sky as it faded into the universe's natural state. Soon it would be covered in stars that would light up Aristaeus surface with a faint blue glow.

Andromeda laid there thinking. She thought about her job, her summer break, and her non existent friends. She also thought about her family. This brought with it, feelings of anger, sadness, and worry. All of a sudden there was a voice inside her head that made her jump. It was Horus.

"You know," he said "just because I wiggle my way into your mind doesn't mean I dont feel your emotions too. Honestly you should know this. We are bonded after all, I chose you."

Andromeda made a humming noise agreeing that yes, sadly he could feel her emotions too. Horus continued,

"So it would be nice if you would not worry so much. I'm ready to throw up already! How are you not sick from all that worrying you're doing?"

"You're not funny and I am sick from it." Andromeda grumbled.

She got up and sat on Horus's back then laid down so her head was resting on his rump as she continued to keep looking up at the sky.

"Come on," She thought to the mytaugh. "Let's go home."

Horus walked straight into his stall with Andromeda still on him. Andromeda slid off Horus’s tall form. She slowly made her way to the stall door and right before she closed it a familiar voice filled her head. Horus had been quiet on the short ride home but apparently now he had something to say.

“It will be ok,” His mind's voice said “Whatever it is, it will be ok in the end.”

Andromeda stared at him in shock, the stall door still half open in her hands.

“W-what?” She stuttered “Don't you already know what it is? You're always in my head listening to me.”

“I'm always in your head but i'm not always listening. That would be so rude! Can you imagine if I was listening to you all these years! I probably would've died from your overactive imagination when we were younger.” The mytaugh ranted.

He had a point. Horus was a yearling and Andromeda was six when he chose her. At that time in her life she was a very weird nurseling and most of the time her mind would run rampant. That was over a decade ago. But right now she was still shocked that he didn't know what she was stressing about.

“Oh.. well.. Thank you.” She grumbled

Andromeda closed the stall door and meandered from the barn towards her family's house in the dark of night. Sleepily she picked up her hoverboard to carry into her room.

She climbed up the dark wooden stairs that lead to the low front porch. The front porch was covered with a roof that was made of the same dark wood that made up the stairs and floor of the porch. The house itself was a white stucco single story dwelling, modeled after the architecture of the ancient worlds. It had many square windows all along the house to let in the light from Aten during the day and glowed yellow from light within at night. The front door was a very dark wood, almost black looking. It had beautiful carvings in it telling different stories in different landscapes. Stories lost long, long ago in the ancient world. Andromeda touched the gold colored handle and the door swung open into the house. It revealed a shouting match in the living room.

Calypso and Vega, Andromeda’s sisters, were screaming and hitting each other with pillows from the couch. At the sound of the door, Andromeda's twin looked up from his position on the couch. It looked like he’d been watching the two while they raged on.

Andromeda ignored her sisters shouts as she walked to the hallway on her right that led to her room. She stopped in her room to prop her hoverboard against the wall and grab one other thing.

By the time she came back out to living room, the burgundy couch Atlas had been sitting on was turned over, pillows all over the floor, the mustard colored chair closest to their fake fire holder, was in two; and the other burgundy couch that was closest to Andromeda was now a wrestling ring for her sisters.

Andromeda walked in front of the whole scene to get a better vantage point. It turns out, Atlas was still on the turned over couch reading as if nothing happened. Contrary, Calypso was now on top of Vega trying to do, honestly, gods knows what.

Andromeda took the stick out of little ball she was holding, threw it near her sisters, and covered her ears.

The small ball let out a loud piercing noise that hurt everyone's eardrums. The sound was deafening and shrill. It was so loud the whole planet could probably hear it. At the sound, Calypso fell off of Vega and the couch while covering her ears. Vega just gave Andromeda a hateful glare while covering her ears.

The small noise grenade died off seconds later. Now it was time for Andromeda to make noise. She stared at her siblings from where she stood at the front of this mess.

“Where are mum and dad?” Andromeda started off with.

“They are out tending a sick Caw somewhere at some farm.” Atlas replied half interested. He didn't even bother looking at her as he said it. A Caw was a large air animal that somehow flew despite its awkward wings. They also produced milk that was drank throughout most planets.

“Do we know how long they are going to be gone?” She continued.

This time Vega answered her with venom in her tone. “They may be gone all night. The Caw is sick and expecting a babe.”

Andromeda sighed at that. Sometimes their parents chose the wrong times to be amazing vets.

“Ok,” Andromeda drawled. “Then why were you two fighting?” She said while jerking her chin at her sisters.

Calypso was still on the ground glaring at Andromeda like she was ready to kill her. Andromeda stare her eldest sister down waiting for an answer. Atlas sighed from the other side of the room as he picked up a pillow. He threw it at Calypso as he walked out of the room towards the kitchen. It hit the side of her head and she blinked. At that, Calypso caved and said, “Vega said that ancient humans were smart and most likely intellectual creatures,” Calypso looked towards Vega. “even though our scientist proved they were all as good as pigs! So I started a debate with her to show her how stupid she was being.”

“So you two had to start killing each other!?” Andromeda's voice was so loud it was almost screaming but she quieted down for her next reaction. “You two are brilliant but yet you choose to fight!? You debate the creature that's undoing was violence, yet you practice the same thing? Honestly you two should be appalled at yourselves and I shouldn't have to even say this to you! Why can’t you two go debate peacefully without hitting each other, just stick to yelling.” She fumed at both of her sisters. Vega and Calypso were both older than herself yet sometimes she was the only one that could think straight.

“We may fight like humans but at least we don't work at a fuel stop like some heathen.” Vega seethed at Andromeda. “We also have friends and we all know when it comes to school, Cal and I excel while you… flounder at best.”

Andromeda grit her teeth and clenched her jaw. She could play dirty with them if she wanted to. Instead, “Just stop hitting each other. Fight and debate if you wish, I don't care.” She snarled before stomping to the kitchen to the left of her.

Andromeda passed through the arch made of dark brown wood, into the kitchen. It’s warm yellow walls were adorned with pictures and paintings. The large round table in front of the windows, was painted black and made to look like their solar system with a beautiful and bright Aten in the middle. The countertops and cabinets were sleek and sterile, made of some kind of dark metal Andromeda did not understand. Despite the harshness of the metal, Andromeda loved this room the most because it felt the most warm and inviting. Not that the rest of the house wasn't. Cherika, Andromeda’s mother, loved ancient looking things so she decorated the family home like an ancient human home. It was inviting and plush. Made for comfort, not practicality. This happened to be one of the things Andromeda’s father, Loni, loved about Cherika and made him fall for her.

Atlas was sitting on top of the island in the middle of the kitchen, eating a bright green and yellow fruit. He acknowledged her presence but said nothing. The two might be twins but you'd never know it by the way they looked and acted. Most of the time Atlas pretended Andromeda didn't exist. Andromeda made her way to the freezing box to grab leftovers from the night before. She heated the food up making enough for 2 people. Throwing it on plates, Andromeda walked to the gorgeous table to start eating. On the way to the table, Andromeda shoved one of the plates at her brother who begrudgingly took it and followed her to the table.

They ate in silence. Andromeda kept to her own thoughts thinking about different things. She started to wish Horus could reach her mind all the way in the house. If he could they'd be talking right now. Instead Andromeda and Atlas sat in suffocating silence. Atlas finished his plate and as he got up to put it away, he said “Vega is right you know. I don't get why you work at that abomination of a fuel station or why your grades are so low. I mean you remember stuff but yet you still get fails in almost every class. So really, if you are that bad you shouldn't be appalled at them. At least they are doing something with their lives.”

With that Atlas left probably going to his room. Andromeda sat there with wet eyes just staring at the bright yellow Aten on the table.

The room was suddenly colder and it seemed like the lights dimmed even though they did not. Staring down at Aten, her food completely forgotten, Andromeda looked at its bright yellow and orange and red flames. The middle was a yellow and orange circle that had a pleasant and inviting face on it. Off of the circle was Aten’s magnificent rays of light. All of them were wavy and came to a point but each one was different shade of orange or yellow with the occasional red. All around the edge of the table were the nine planets that made up our solar system. Balder, The planet of dreamers. Bragi, The planet of scholars and writings. Isis, The planet of the Seers and healers. Ptah, The planet full of inventors and scientists. Aristaeus, The planet of agriculture and animal husbandry. Pallas, The planet of Military Associations. Kanaloa, The planet that distributes water throughout planets and nurtures all aquatic beings; Also the planet that is most like the ancient homeland, Earth. Uli, The planet of Philosophy and wisdom. Lastly, The planet the galaxy depends on most, Themis. The planet of Law and Justice.

Andromeda always wanted to visit the other eight planets but knew she probably never would. That never stopped her from dreaming though. Late at night when Andromeda was laying in bed or when she would ride with Horus, She would wonder about which planet she would belong on most. Most people in her galaxy would spend about a year traveling the planets to see where they fit in most to continue their lives doing what they love. Statistics from Ptah show, that for every person that leaves their home planet, there were two that stay. Not because the person couldn't get off of their planet but because that was truly what they loved and had no interest in pursuing anything else. Andromeda knew that her sisters would probably go to Ptah and Uli. She also knew that her brother would probably go to Pallas or stay here on Aristaeus. What Andromeda didn't know though, was where she was going to go.

She felt something wet fall on her hand. Andromeda looked down at the water droplets on her hand in surprise. She hadn't realized she was crying. She hadn't even realised she was sad. That was because andromeda was not sad but in fact furious. The tear of rage quickly sizzled off her hot, enraged skin with a quick hiss. How dare Atlas say that about her! At least she was doing something with her life! And she was just as capable of school projects as the three of them. Andromeda just happened to not particularly care about them. And if she ever wanted to admit it, which she would but probably never out loud, She was probably better than all three of her siblings. As Andromeda thought these things, her blood was practically boiling. She stood up so fast from the lovely table that the dark wooden chair fell backwards. Andromeda grabbed her plate and threw it into the sink with more force than needed before stomping off across house. She stalked and stomped through the odd kitchen of her home, through the half wrecked yet still beautiful living room, through the dark hallway covered in pictures and paintings, all the way to her room. Andromeda entered her room and slammed the door to the point of it almost coming off of its magnetic hinges. Upon entering her room Andromeda looked around at the soft purple walls that matched Horus’s markings. She looked at her hoverboard that she had painted and drawn on so it would really seem like hers and not just a scrap of metal. She looked at her scale of their galaxy hanging in the corner of her room that she used to fall asleep watching every night. She looked at the pictures on top of the set of drawers that stood in front of her sleep pod. The hologram pictures that constantly blinked between art pieces she loved, her friends, and Horus. That was when her raging fire calmed down. Andromeda slumped against her room's door and sat there thinking about how to fix this.

Andromeda hastily jumped up and practically ran to her tall armoire. She grabbed her black satchel and hastily filled it. Andromeda paused in front of her hoverboard and looked at her Epikoi checking the time. It was 2400 which meant she had half of a standard galactic hour left. Andromeda grabbed the board and silently bolted to the barn with her bag on her left shoulder.

Upon reaching the barn doors, Andromeda propped her hoverboard against one and plunked her satchel next to it. She deftly opened the other barn door and crept through the semi darkness to Horus’s stall. The brilliant mytaugh was illuminated by the blue tinted light from the billion of stars that made Aristaeus glow at night. Andromeda crept into the stall and started to pet the mytaugh until he roused seconds later. She lovingly grabbed Horus’s large head as his voice filled her mind.

“What could you possibly want at this ungodly hour, human. I am trying to get my beauty sleep.” If mytaugh were capable of facial expressions like smiling, Andromeda had no doubt the creature would be smirking.

“Well,” she started whispering while stroking Horus’s long nose. “I just wanted to tell you that: once I can, I will send for you. But until then, please just wait and don't bite anyone's arm off when you get prissy.” she winked. With that, Andromeda wriggled out of the stall not waiting for a response and back out into the open night. She didn't hesitate as she slung the satchel over her body and hopped on her hoverboard zooming off of her family’s ground, onto the seemly endless starway, retracing the path she took earlier.

When Andromeda reached the dusty fuel-stop parking area where there were about two dozen freighter ships parked, she hopped off of her board and began to look around. When she finally found the green and orange ship she was looking for, she tucked her board behind it where it would be hidden and ran off to the nasty tavern that had yellow light streaming from its ever dirty windows.

The tavern was almost as bad as the store she worked in next door. The only reason it was better was because the wooden floor was washed clean from the puddles of spilled ale on it and the smell of fried foods almost hid the unworldly smell of the nasty freighters. The bell above the door rang as Andromeda entered but either no one in the large crowd heard or cared. The bar at the back was packed with brutes twice her size, half of them them singing an off key bawdy tune obviously intoxicated. To her left some tables had been pushed together and a large drunken card game was going on around what seemed to be two players fighting probably for losing to one another. And to her right were various dimly lit booths and tables with different freighters seated at them drinking, eating, talking, or sleeping. The tavern itself was modern enough but the wooden panels lining each wall suggested this place was originally built to feel old.

Andromeda searched the tables and booths for one specific mass of muscle. She cut across the dingy tavern and slid down in the booth right across from him. In the yellow tinted light Andromeda looked over the man’s bright opalescent skin, that was taking on the same tint as the lighting above. He wore dark clothing contrasting his flawless skin but matching his styled hair. When Andromeda finally looked up he was smirking at her and had a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Hello Elon” Andromeda purred and smiled.

Elon was still smirking as his rich baritone filled her ears. “What do I owe this visit to, dear?”

Andromeda scoffed and sat back. “Can I not visit my favorite brute without there being a reason?�� She said. “But while we are on the subject I need a favor.”

Andromeda was taking a gamble but she knew that out of any freighter she had ever seen stop here, Elon was the one most likely to help her. He was only about two years older than her and already found his job. They met on his first run to Pallas from Ptah. The young man had stopped in the freighter lot not knowing it was huge mistake. He had walked into the store to buy a soda but after talking to Andromeda, who was behind the counter that day, he decided against it. A wise choice. That had been a year ago and since then, Elon would stop at the tavern and store whenever he could. The two had become something like friends in his stops and messaging when he was away.

Elon chuckled at that. “I knew there had to be a reason for you to show your beautiful face.”

“Alright Elon, stop flirting.” At this his posture changed. He sat up straight and was no longer smirking as Andromeda continued, her voice not a lovely, devious, tone anymore. “I'm trying to fix a problem I have and I was wondering if you let me ride with you to your next stop.”

Elon sat back in his chair and studied her. His face unreadable. He was watching her so long she was about to squirm when he finally said, “Kanaloa is my stop then back up to Ptah.”

“That's fine.” Andromeda replied probably too quickly.

Elon nodded but was obviously still thinking things through. Yet all he said in reply was, “Why.” Andromeda don't know what seemed liked the blow she felt. Was it the question itself? Was it his deep baritone laced with curiosity and worry in a way that made it seem soft but harsh at the same time? Or maybe it was him staring so intently at her. Andromeda didn't know but despite herself she just stared at him.

“I have a problem. I am trying to fix that problem and the way to fix it is to get away from it.” she said keeping her words short and frank.

Elon sighed seeming exhausted still staring at her. Andromeda stared back at him and realized that in this moment he somehow seemed older. More burdened maybe. Definitely older in some way. He slid out the chair while saying “We leave early. Now.” and then walking away. Andromeda trailed Elon out of the tavern the cool night air hitting her face the moment the pair pushed through the Taverns front doors. Elon led Andromeda to his green and orange freighter ship. She grabbed her Hover board and pack, throwing them into the back and then hauling herself into the front of the large ship next to Elon. Elon glanced at her as he started up the ship but kept his eyes ahead as they flew onto the endless starway. The only thing illuminating the two and the starway was the gorgeously cold blue light from the stars high above.

The starway was...

-Boney

1 note · View note

nekumiko · 6 years ago

Text

Colors

Fandom: Daiya no Ace

Genre: Romance

Rated: T

Words: 3, 711

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary: She’s fascinated with his hair. Just his hair. But Ryousuke finds it invasive, and of course he won’t let her off that easily.

Chapter Five: Truce

The first color that registers is red.

She sees it – or rather, realizes it's what her eyes had caught before he ran away – on Kominato Ryousuke's cheeks.

She feels it on her own ones.

Hence, watching practice the next day has become awkward.

It's not new for him to notice her there – it is the very matter of their banters, after all. But Kominato never looks back a second time. Until today.

Each time she would calm down, he would glance at her, and red would just creep back up to the tips of her ears.

Once, he holds her gaze for a few seconds too long before hitting very cleanly each baseball thrown at him. If this is like those cliché scenarios in books and movies, is it supposed to mean that he had performed well for her? Because she swears he had on the faintest hint of a smile. Does he think this is some kind of fun joke?

Aya takes a deep breath. Reminds herself that she has to get through this. She needs to get back to the Art Club, plus she would get paid for this. It's all for a good cause.

Promising him a week minimum is a good call, for the pre-summer training camp had started that Friday. The usual before- and after-school practices would not only intensify, but also extend until evening. She wouldn't want to disturb him at such a busy time (she's just guilty of letting two days pass idly by). And since the players would practically be living in the field for a week, it's the perfect time to gather inspiration. For right on the camp's first morning practice, Aya would be blessed with her most-awaited sight.

The pink-haired brothers are at batting practice together! With Haruichi getting promoted to first-string (which Miyuki had not-so-subtly told her the day after the announcement, with Kuramochi overhearing then making a fuss over her being a player), he has now received the right to be on the same field as his brother. And he definitely does not disappoint at how easily he could keep up with the third-year in catching and throwing. Their movements could even be described as identical.

For now. Training camp, as what Aya had witnessed last year, would be hell as it progresses.

But for now, she is swelling up with pride. Inevitably, her eyes trail over to the older brother.

As the players wait for the next cart of baseballs to be rolled over to the one batting for them, Kominato Ryousuke pauses to regard the unsuspecting first-year with a small smile.

Happiness for her junior who is step-by-step achieving his dream of getting acknowledged by his idol, and, she has to admit, happiness because she's sharing the same emotions at the exact same moment as the senior, makes her flush red. Or maybe because the sun had already risen high enough to shine on her sensitive skin now.

Or maybe because a shortstop named Kuramochi, standing near the Kominatos competing for the second baseman position, is now eyeing her with a knowing grin.

Aya could only groan.

The next problem to being uninspired is not knowing exactly what she'd draw. The scenes from practices and games that she draws have always been limited by the distance between her spot outside the fence and her subjects positioned in the diamond within a large field. The main reason why she draws Kominato with his eyes closed. She knows they aren't, but that's just how he usually appears in her perspective.

So that leaves her with the only clear image she has of his eyes.

And that would lead her to recall every single detail of how she came to see them, and most especially the moment itself where there had been mere three-ish inches between them – small beads of sweat remaining unwiped from the side of his face, their intermingling breaths, his boyish scent, his dry lips, and lastly, the piercing gaze of his black irises. Such details would, in a way, make it her first intimate drawing.

What a great thing to think about right in the middle of the cafeteria line.

And Aya almost gets a heart attack when she looks up and sees pink hair right in front of her. Almost. She's now good enough to recognize the stark difference in their haircuts from behind. Breathing a sigh of relief, she taps his shoulder. "Haruichi~"

Haruichi looks back over his shoulder and instantly brightens up. "Oh, Aya-san!"

"Long time, no see!" Aya grins, stopping herself from adding, what with all that bangs blocking your eyes.

"Yeah." Haruichi scratches the back of his head. "It's been pretty hectic."

"Don't worry about it. You got to first-string, so it's not without reward!"

Red colors his cheeks. "That's a pretty harsh way to put it."

She pauses. Pink and red is a combination she'd stuck on Haruichi, but had never imagined seeing on his brother. Could the genes that gave them unique hair (and a sad height) also be responsible for them both to blush... cutely? But what startles Aya is that she might be the only one who knows that. She gives her best reassuring smile. "But you've got to admit that it's an achievement. So, congratulations!"

Haruichi chuckles. "Thank you, Aya-san." He picks up a tray from the stack.

Aya gets a piece of milk bread. She's too distracted these days to cook lunch for herself and Miyuki. "Has your brother said anything?"

Haruichi softly sighs and shakes his head as he continues to fill his tray. Even cute little boys have big appetites, it seems. "He had never once even looked me in the eyes."

Aya sucks in a breath. Hold it in, Aya. Stop making jokes about these brothers' eyes! "Really? Not even a single 'congratulations?'"

"Maybe he doesn't think I'm ready for first-string yet."

Aya's head snaps towards him to say something along the lines of, 'Are you serious? You're already there! In fact, he's—'

But that train of thought cuts off as she sees Haruichi with a determined expression, as if his brother's indifference is what ultimately fuels him.

She hums in thought. Maybe it might be more fulfilling for him to slowly discover that his brother has already been impressed. "I'm sure he wouldn't have told you to go to Seidou without knowing you'd get into first-string, won't he?"

"Aniki… actually didn't. At least, not directly."

"I don't get it."

"He told me not to follow him." Haruichi smiles at the memory. "But when I walked with him to the station the next day, he told me to go to whichever school I'd like."

Hold up. "…Is he always like that? Saying things in the harshest way possible, but actually means the opposite?"

He grins. "You must be good friends with Aniki if you're able to say that about him."

She only laughs uneasily. With a final wish for good luck, Aya excuses herself to allow her a few moments of contemplative silence.

If Kominato Ryousuke is some kind of tsundere, and his brother, who has been living with the guy for most of his life, agrees to it, then what would all those times the third-year had told her to stop "stalking" him actually mean? Is he just someone who gets flustered when people follow him, and therefore copes with it by being mean?

That's just… endearing.

Maybe Aya is twisted. Must run in the blood.

But why do people follow him in the first place?

Being friends with Kuramochi, one-half of the Keystone Combo, has Aya well aware of how harsh his senior had been on him before. But that seemed to have been the push for Kuramochi to work hard, making him one of the best middle infielders in the area alongside the older Kominato, his now-close friend.

And she's seeing a repeating pattern between the brothers, the younger of which now sporting a dirtied white uniform as he not only struggles to breathe, but also struggles to even catch a ball. Meanwhile, the older still manages to stand straight, with just a few specks of dirt here and there in his clothes.

It's only been the third day of camp (Tuesday of the following week, as the players are fortunate this year to be given a whole weekend of rest after the first day of tasting hell).

It's too bad that Aya's too far from them to hear their conversation – she also confirms that they really don't face each other when they talk – but in retrospect, it wouldn't be wrong to assume that he just said something harsh. But as she had now expected, Haruichi stands up and continues to practice with more motivation.

Kominato Ryousuke exudes an aura that makes people want to impress him the more he… well, 'bullies' them. Reverse psychology, is that what you call it? Because it all boils down to respect for how great of a player he is.

Personally, she could attest to that. For Aya is not just here for the aesthetic. The way he plays has also reeled her in.

Yet the full extent of his talent and efforts, which provide a different light to his taunts, could only be seen by his teammates.

Apparently, the fifth day of camp's after-school batting practice would change that.

Coach Kataoka walks over with his own bat, immediately hushing the whole field. "I'm batting," he announces.

The seniors (only, because Kuramochi, a sophomore, is horrified) seem to glow with excitement.

Coach points his bat at them. "First-year Kominato, get off the field!" he commands. "Everyone else, I hope you're ready!"

Haruichi, crouching with his hands on both knees as an attempt to catch his breath, takes one last look at his brother before he walks off.

"Let's go nonstop!" the coach shouts, to which the starters (minus Miyuki and Tanba presumably at the bullpen) answer with an affirmative roar.

From 4'o clock in the afternoon, the constant sound everyone hears is the Coach's bat hitting baseballs at a frightening speed. And because he is against Seidou's current cream of the crop, each baseball is caught and thrown back just in time for the next one to zoom through the diamond.

Alas, even these "monsters" have a limit.

"What's wrong?" the Coach shouts. "You're getting quiet!"

The seven fielders' fatigue from the past five days of camp has finally caught up to them, and being in the dark doesn't help one bit.

Dark? Aya looks around. Following Miyuki's strict advice from last year's camp, she had never stayed to watch evening practice. But how could anyone go home right in the middle of this?

The first-years finally remember to turn on the field's lights, illuminating most of the starters on their knees. But the two seniors infamous for being terror figures to the juniors remain barely standing.

Centerfielder Isashiki Jun weakly begs for another round.

"I can't hear you! Where's your usual attitude, Isashiki?" Coach bellows before sending the ball his way, but he misses and instead tumbles on the ground in the process, ending up curled in pain.

"Who taught you to catch like that?"

The next baseball is sent straight down the field again within the second baseman's range. Kominato Ryousuke misses.

"Where's that smirk of yours, Kominato?"

Kominato falls to his knees, curled up and coughing.

And Aya's heart is torn between breaking from the sight and pounding with newfound, if not strengthened, admiration.

Missing out on Kominato's beginning year in the team means she only got to witness his already-perfected plays. Though she knows that he had worked hard to achieve that – for everyone always has to start from scratch – it is overwhelming to see first-hand the red-hot passion he has for the sport. His skills are above others and he knows it, but he doesn't use that confidence to brag. He pushes his peers' buttons to provoke them into working past their limits like he does, or in certain people's cases, into working harder to surpass him.

But as Aya looks at his just-inked portrait on her desk later that night, she realizes something: she isn't his teammate, so why does he have to be harsh on her? If she then likens Haruichi's story of his brother's turnaround to that late afternoon Kominato Ryousuke suddenly expressed interest in her drawings and then commissioned her to draw him of all people, despite expressing 'disgust' over her hobby for the past year…

Is he just a guy embarrassed over the amount of attention a girl has been pouring on him?

Her cousin would know what to say. To an extent, outsiders could see things clearer. Plus, his position requires him to know every player, even in the tad bit personal category. But remembering how she had barely escaped his scolding earlier when he spotted her still at evening practice, she puts her phone down. She'd deal with that tomorrow. Although if Aya tells him that watching until late had triggered his ship to at last gain ground, maybe she could get away?

Wait, what?

Is that it? Is she really… crushing on the second baseman after all? Why else would she insist on making him her muse despite being told off? It seems like she herself had fallen for that charm. Why does she feel lonely whenever she remembers he'll disappear from her life come March next year? She even considers stopping this "foolishness" called art once she loses her only muse, because she knows no one else could replace him.

Makoto Aya is stubborn, but she's not one to deny truths. (Well, technically, she'd been in denial for a year, but at least she came through, right?) She's got it bad.

Training camp takes away every last bit of the players' free time, leaving only enough for eating and sleeping. Despite her earlier decision to wait it out, here she is outside Field A, a brown envelope in hand.

Aya had stayed up late to finish the commission, as well as to sort out her feelings, so she woke up well after morning practice began. It'd be disrespectful to call him in the middle of practice, so her next chance would be before afternoon practice starts. But then the whole team – not just the starters and managers who had all apparently caught on to her infatuation ever since – would see them. Shameless as she is, she wouldn't want that to happen. Approaching him at lunchtime wouldn't do, either, for Kominato always hangs out with his classmates, Jun-san and Masuko.

The only option left is to ask someone to relay a message to him. But who? Miyuki is automatically crossed off the list. Kuramochi would be the best bet. Or even the second-year managers, Yui and Sachiko, for female support. Yet while she's sure that they won't blab about this, they would also never let her live it down. Haruichi wouldn't have the heart to tease her, but considering his circumstances with his brother right now, Aya doubts they talk outside the field.

Damn, she really needs more friends.

"Makoto-san?" a melodic voice calls.

Aya looks up at the only third-year manager. "Takako-senpai!"

"Morning practice is over. You should go on ahead, or else you'd be late for first period." She gives the brunette a meaningful smile. "Or are you waiting for someone?"

The managers may tease her about the pink-haired senior, but Fujiwara Takako, Aya realizes, could be mature enough for this kind of favor. "Actually, I was waiting for you, senpai."

"Really?" She leans closer to whisper, "Are commissions open again?"

Aya inwardly smirks. Perfect. She is also one of her regular clients (although, her orders are all sworn to secrecy, for it wouldn't be good to seem like she's playing favorites). "Yes! And I'd be willing to prioritize your next request if… well, you'd do me a little favor?"

"Ah, you don't need to do that. I'd do anything for my sweet underclassman."

"Pfft, after I just kind of blackmailed you?"

Click.

At lunchtime, the door to the rooftop opens to reveal Kominato Ryousuke.

Aya stands up from one of the benches. "Over here, Kominato-san!"

He closes the door behind him and crosses the short distance between them, stopping at arm's length. The smirk that Aya had expected is missing. "Hello," he starts in a barely-steady voice. He clears his throat. "I was told you want to meet me up here."

She nods, and then holds up the envelope in between them. "I thought you might need some cheering up in the middle of the exhausting camp." As the third-year takes it from her, she adds, "I mean, assuming you'd like it."

Kominato opens the envelope and slides the paper out. The first thing anyone would notice is the trademark pink in her drawings of him, the color covering most of the top half of this one. As promised, his small eyes are not just mere two slanted lines anymore. Normally, it would have been intimidating, but the girl had drawn on slightly-parted lips to soften his expression into a curious one. "Wow," he can't help but whisper.

Aya stops fidgeting with the sleeves of her gray sweater. "Hm? Do you like it?"

He nods. "Yes. I… I didn't think it'd be better to hold one of your drawings up close."

Her eyes widen. "Better?" she repeats. "That would mean you already think my drawings are good."

"I do." And there it is. Aya's eyes are graced for the second time with a red-cheeked Kominato Ryousuke. "I was actually hoping I could talk to you about it if I ask for a commission. I know I've been a jerk. I'm sorry. I didn't really mean all that."

"Oh, so that's what it is…" She crosses her arms. "But you really required me to do more work just for that, huh?"

Kominato purses his lips. "I'm sorry for that, too."

Aya blinks. Pinches herself. Gets hurt. "You're serious."

He nods. "I promise I won't say such things again."

She smiles. "Well, if you're really sincere about it, and since I could get back to the Art Club because of you, then okay, I forgive you."

He sighs in relief and smiles back.

Scrambling to control the sudden staccato of her heartbeats, she says, "I was right, though, that you are a tsun."

His smile vanishes. "I am not."

"Oh yes, you are." She giggles, then pauses to look away. "It's cute, don't worry."

Kominato's sharp intake of breath could be heard clearly.

But before he could say something, Aya continues, "I wasn't planning on going through with it, but you went ahead and redeemed yourself."

"I don't get it."

"Uh, I think you could figure it out from the cliché setting by now."

"I wouldn't want to assume."

She gulps. "You see, I can completely understand why you're creeped out by me. I'm sorry for that. But I've only recently realized why I'm so persistent, and it's because I actually really like you."

There is silence as red spreads all over the senior's face. It reminds Aya of his brother, but it wouldn't be appropriate to mention another guy right now, wouldn't it?

She gives a nervous smile. "Yeah, so that's that. I'll see you around."

"Wait!"

Aya, already turning to collect her things from the bench, completely stops. He'd just raised his voice with her for the first time, and now she's even more startled. "Huh? What?"

"My answer is 'okay.'"

"...What?"

"What?"

"What do you mean by 'okay?'"

He takes a step forward. "'Okay, let's date.'"

"Why would we be dating?"

Kominato stops. "Huh?"

"I just told you that I like you. But you didn't even tell me if you like me back."

He frowns slightly. "Of course I like you too."

"'Of course?' How would I know that, senpai? You've been nothing but harsh on me. Oh, is that how you flirt with someone?"

"I—"

"And okay, let's say that's just your true nature: a tsundere. But then, why should we date just because we like each other? If you want us to be in a relationship, shouldn't you ask?"

"You're..." Kominato trails off to take a deep breath. "Fine." His frown deepens in thought, then he reaches out and takes one of her hands in his, once again getting close enough to look her straight in the eyes. "Makoto-san, would you like to be my girlfriend?"

She stares at him agape, before squeezing her eyes shut as she feels her face heat up and rival the shade of red he'd sported earlier. "Yes."

Their noses touch. "Then, may I—"

"Hey, I almost forgot!" Aya steps back, dropping his hand to hold her palm up. "Now, if you please." At the senior's confused frown, she says, "It's a commission, Kominato-san. You have to pay for it. And nope, being my boyfriend doesn't mean you're off the hook."

"...I understand." He fishes through his pants pocket for his wallet. He then places two 500-yen and two 100-yen coins on her still-outstretched hand.

Aya's hand immediately closes around the money and pockets it. "Pleasure doing business with you~"

"That's what's left of my lunch money this week." Kominato smirks. "You're a bit mean yourself."

"Then I guess we're meant for each other, huh?" She smirks back. "But you can't fool me. The whole team is loaded because you guys don't have time to go out anymore."

He deadpans, but the smirk finds its way back on his face a second later. "Well, I would have to now that I've got you, right?"

She laughs. "Nah, you've got Nationals to focus on first. Now," she sits back down on the bench and pats the space beside her lunch bag, "don't worry about lunch. I've cooked extra today."

As he takes the offer, he asks, "So does this count as first date?"

She freezes. "N-no. I would've given you these even if you didn't ask me out. It's still part of cheering you up."

As a reply, he softly says, "But you've always had, you know."

Kominato Ryousuke may have stopped tormenting her with insults, but he had definitely found a new way to kill her.

Previous: Trigger

Next: Ryousuke and Aya

#kominato ryousuke x oc #ryousuke x oc #kominato ryousuke #kominato haruichi #diamond no ace #daiya no ace #ace of diamond #ace of diamond fanfiction #diamond no ace fanfiction #nekumiko

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yerabearmum · 6 years ago

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Finally got around to watching season 7 and HOOOO BOY do I have a lot to say

“he’s the youngest pilot ever to lead a mission into space” I think you forgot to mention ‘professional gay disaster’

Shiro looking at Keith, who is staring morosely out the window: he so obviously needs a hug but he would also glare a hole through my face if I come within ten feet of him how can I show this child love

DO YOU SEE LANCE'S LITTLE SWOOPY HAIRCUT

why is Little Lance’s voice deeper than Big Lance’s

“the emo kid’s doing it!” of course he is what more would you expect from the kid who never talks and openly but silently hates your guts

how does this twelve-year-old know how to drive in the first place

Kieth:*steals a car*

Me: PROTECT HIM

shiro doesn’t even look upset he’s just concerned and impressed

lance is so done with science in general

hello my name is takashi shirogane and welcome to my ted talk

Romelle’s hand gestures fill my soul with warmth

Coran is literally just Space Steve Irwin

Coran’s intimidation methods are #fierce

if that’s seriously how you used to wrangle yelmores then is it really any wonder why Alfor is dead

“like you, lance” an hour of adoring silence for this sibling relationship

how much you wanna bet Shiro is aware of everything around him and his only thought is “listen baby bro I already came back from death once why do you fear that I can’t do it again”

Keith yawns like a gay queen

I aspire the be the same level of zen as the recorder guy in the background

just remember that keith was and still is just as much of a showoff as Lance

Hunk’s expression when James says the only reason Keith is there is Shiro ‘james srsly are you trying to die”

“is that what mommy and daddy told you before-” MY MOMMA NEVER TOLD ME SHIT

there is exactly -.0002% chance of me ever getting over the gorgeous indigo color of Keith’s eyes they’re like tiny emo galaxies

consider: Homelle is such a wholesome hufflepuff ship

Lance Saves All Our Asses Again and It Goes Completely Unmentioned Afterwards Again: a novel by nobody because Lance gets as much recognition as a piece of bra lint

Pidgeot shaking a water drop off her head like a tiny woodland nerd sprite is my new reason for existing

my smol children just got smoler

Shiro looks like some kind of Gaydiana Jones on that hover thing

it’s probably just the anime eyes but it seriously looks like Little Keith is wearing eyeliner

shiro zooming off the cliff is like me trying outrun the overwhelming weight of existence

bby keith in the sunset is Hiro Hamada minus the tooth gap and personal healt- oh no wait that would be Shiro. shiro is baymax. floofy boi= marshmallow bun. WHERE DO THE CONSPIRACIES END.

honey you’re like twenty-two and a very bad liar

Admiral Sonda is just Sam Holt as a woman

literally the gayest gay breakup they could get away with. I applaud you

how dare they use the most underappreciated character as literal bait

ah, i see rescuers down under made an appearance in the timespace of a single frame

why do the yelmores sound like Chewie

the phonotonium bubbles are bringin back memories of the Newtcase scene

that moment when you realize what he means by “you can’t do this to me again” and you feel your will to live crumble into Satan’s coffee grounds

the way that Lance says “ready to charge up the lions?” reminds me so much of that time in Eureka when Zane was like “ready to smash some unstable atoms together at the speed of light?”

I can’t remember a single time that Lance looked happier or more excited about life in general that he does in the intro and... oh, look, there goes my heart. falling to the floor. shattering on the concrete. again. look at it go.

Coran honey they are standing right next to each other does it look like Cosmo is eating her

road trip humor

darling child do you honestly believe that this lion is going to let some random-ass person sit down and drive it

HE'S LONELYYYYYY

What the everloving fuck is wrong with the Altean alphabet

Hunk's selfies are so precious

"No. Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. Can't do this." BIG MOOD OKAY

ALLURA HAS FUCKING SUPER STRENGTH

yes thank you for that recap Lance we had not yet noticed the difficulty of our situation

"super dangerous it's perfect" yeah me too hon me too

will the little PEW PEW sounds ever cease to amuse me? the answer is no

Kosmo+Krolia is the ultimate kickass mom team

WAIT WHAT I THOUGHT THE PROBLEM WAS THAT THE JAWS WOULDN’T OPEN

guys come on have a little faith in him

I, too, sometimes narrate my life inside my head

Kosmo: oh I’m sorry I’ve been a wee bit BUSY DYING

so apparently Kaltinecker is just a generic name for space cows? I don’t like this

“who are you?” *Mushu voice, unfurls wings* “your worst nightmare”

Axca is just “whoop I kicked your ass mY bAd”

“Indeed I was, but now I am your savior.”

why is Ezor so lovable

“we’re going to have to use a more extreme approach” *pulls out silly string threateningly* “start talking”

Hunk looks so offended when they’re picking who to torture

Ezor would be perfect for one of those Garnier Fructis commercials where they pick stuff up with their hair

Can we talk about Lance and Pidge's sibling relationship? I think as much as they complain, they both really miss having that close kind of relationship. Pidge has Matt, of course, but he's not exactly open to talk anytime they want. This leaves Pidge and Lance to fall back on each other. Lance grew up in a big family, and probably also a very tight-knit one. So whether he realizes it or not, he depends on those kinds of connections, with stupid little arguments and support. I think that sibling connection is the one thing that really keeps them grounded when nothing else can.

Oh! And the other thing: This first occurred to me during the "DON'T YOU TOUCH HER" scene, because Lance is the first one to react protectively. Sure, the other's are protective of Pidge, but it's different for Lance because he reacts in such a 'big brother' sort of way. Again, Lance comes from a really big family, so playing the big brother role is second nature to him, and I love that it's such a huge part of his character to be protective.

*S&M plays every time Axca is onscreen*

Coran doing the Office Look

Coran: the lions are weak, we’ll end up right back here

Axca: then perish

I think the guard is already overwhelmed enough, what with having his quiznack handed to him by a couple of mice

Takashi honey does he look okay

why does Zethrid just sound like a guy trying and failing to do a girly voice

so apparently Axca has a type and that type is guys with ‘flippity hair’

Pidge’s smolness is a weapon in and of itself

when did Lance become the right-hand man I like this arrangement

“Can we just fight?” is the pg equivalent of “I’M GAY BITCH”

Ezor’s... head thing makes her look like Space Rapunzel

she was *Star Wars voice* seduced by the dark side of the force

do they seriously expect us to believe that there’s just an alien named Bob

‘intergalactic goofballs” is the most accurate description yet

“c’mere keith” WIVEL WIVEL WHIRL

“I... uhhh” is the most artist thing I have ever heard

do the creators just stuff cookies in their mouths and say random stuff to come up with alien words

WHY DIDN’T THEY GUESS KOSMO IS LOOKS MORE LIKE KOSMO THAN A LION

princess Lance is playing this game the right way don’t you yell at him

Keith’s voice when he says “windy cave?”

”the dumb one” bitch you’re the one who’s dead so who’s really the dumb one here

Bob please stop hurting my son his self-esteem is already fragile enough

Is he beautiful? Absolutely. Is he dumb? ABSOLUTELY NOT STOP HURTING HIM

One of these days Lance will straight up dab and on that day I will die of joy

Allura is literally picking up Hunk and I love it

now Allura’s asking the really big questions. I mean, what are any of us doing here. We’re just specks of dirt floating on the vast tissue of time

Pidge is trying so hard to look like she couldn’t care less and I’ve never related to anything more

She looks so smug whacking the camera

KEITH HAS OFFICIALLY ADOPTED SHIRO’S PROUD SPACE DAD FACE

Lance’s face when he’s talking about his little crush on Keith

CAN YOU TWO GET ANY GAYER

I just want Coran to get to earth and be Dumbledore in a play

I like the end music it’s so dancey and disco but not cringy

In the course of two seconds Coran goes from the Lorax to a ginger version of the guy from Ratatouille

KoSmO ThE dElIvErY wOlF

was that for real an alien dick joke

I like how both my gay sons have marks on their faces. Shiro has a scar, Keith has a Galra mark. What’s next? Lance with airbender tattoos? I hope not.

that is legit just a watermelon with tusks

oh Merlin no that’s even worse please go back to the watermelon

zippity zap your neck goes snap

don’t you love it when female characters literally glow with power? because I do

that was such an Avengers moment

Chat Noir would be proud of you, Hunk

Shiro is a savage

THE FACT THAT KEITH THOUGHT HE HAD TO EXPLAIN WHAT FLIGHT FORMATION EXERCISES ARE

the paladins adopting ‘quiznack’ into their casual cussing vocabulary is what I live for

if “something will come to kill us any minute now” is a good thing, you have severely low standards

oh yes lovely they’re having group hallucinations of space bats

OHHHHHHHHHHH YES BRING ON THE QUESTIONING OF EXISTENCE I NEED THIS ANGST

Hunk stubbornly refusing to sound off is so relatable like my stubbornness also drives all those around me slowly insane

HUNK IS LITERALLY SHOOTING A GIANT RAY OF SUNSHINE BECAUSE HE IS ACTUALLY A GIANT RAY OF SUNSHINE

Hunk being shocked by being shown any form of value and appreciation crushes my heart this boy needs to be loved

that enthusiastic “YEAH!” is what sleep deprived happiness sounds like

I like to imagine the voice actors practicing dramatic anime screaming while they drive to work and now I can’t breathe cuz I’m laughing too hard

WAIT WHAT I THOUGHT THE ENTIRE PROBLEM HERE WAS THAT THE LIONS WEREN’T CHARGED ENOUGH TO FORM VOLTRON

Keith and Lance’s bayards make giant magic wings that’s some serious soulmate shit right there

really you’re not gonna shoot it first to check if it’s real? after that whole space monster thing? you’re just gonna zoom toward it? hon c’mon

and of course the creators had to ask themselves “How can we best ruin this moment of joy? THE GALRA INVASION”

Colleen Holt is a force of nature and the living embodiment of “don’t fuck with me I’ve got the power of God and anime on my side”

Iverson: here’s what we know

Me: YOU FOOL YOU KNOW NOTHING

Sammy’s not having none of your shit so shut it before he tapes it

DO YOU SEE COLLEEN’S FACE I DON’T WANT LIFE ANYMORE

oh jeez they’re lined up by height that’s adorable

I like how this clearly takes place in a fairly distant future, but robots aren’t doing everything like people seem to think they would. The evident majority of labor is still done by people, like engineers and flight directors.

BITCH IT’LL BE YOUR WAR WHEN THE GALRA ARE ON YOUR DOORSTEP DO YOU REALLY WANNA WAIT UNITL THEN

I’VE ONLY HAD COLLEEN FOR LIKE TEN MINUTES BUT IF ANYTHING HAPPENED TO HER THIS SHOW WOULD BE DEAD TO ME

If they’d shown Keith’s recording it would’ve been like “Hey, it’s me. *with Kosmo sprawled across his lap, panting loudly. Lance is snickering quietly behind the camera* I don’t exactly, uh... have family on earth. But I’m Keith, the Garrison’s number one discipline problem. I wear the title proudly, but I still just wanted to... apologize, kind of, to pretty much every authority figure at the Garrison for making your life living hell. Yeah.”

“but everything changed when the Galra invaded”

does Kinkade ever speak? I kinda want him to be mute. A disabled fighter pilot would be the coolest thing

Veronica is such a badass

aw man he spoke

I can’t wait for when Krolia comes back to earth everyone’s gonna be like “oh fUCK A GALRA SHOOT IT DOWN” and then Keith walks out with his arms up like “HOLD IT THEY’RE WITH US” *Krolia steps out* “everybody say hi to my mom”

“Don’t miss” oh yeah I just thought I’d let them go this would be a great way to let Sandac know we’re here

THE SMALLEST PIDGEOT

oh my Merlin they have a dog

oh what a soft moment

what was with that dramatic look between Keith and Griffin? I mean I know this is Keith we’re talking about but there’s no way they held a grudge that long over a disagreement when they were... what? Eleven?

Allura is rocking that Garrison uniform

“Allura, you’re a genius!” yeah sweetie I know

OH MY MERLIN MY TWO ANGELS ARE HUGGING DO YOU SEE KEITH’S FACE

that’s going to electrocute him

HOLY QUIZNACK SHE HAD A BALMERA CRYSTAL ON HER FOREHEAD THE WHOLE TIME

Shiro’s hair floof looks less like a bird now and more like a dead bush

WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS ALLURALANCE COMING FROM THE STARS GAVE NO WARNING OF THIS I DO NOT ACCEPT

Veronica is officially one of my faves

Kaltinecker is just like “oh this is happening now”

SMUSH

I still can’t believe they got the particle barrier up in the first place

PLEASE TAKE NOTICE OF THE FACT THAT LANCE IS THE FIRST PERSON KEITH CALLS FOR

ohhhh look it’s launching somethings going good- wait never mind WHY ALWAYS THIS

Leifstoder is adorable

CAN YOU ANIMATE SOMETHING ELSE

Griffin has the voice of an angel

Shiro’s floating arm kind of ruins the dramatic hero effect of the doors opening into the light of battle

should the beams from the zyphorge canons be that pretty

I know Sendac is an ass and he deserves to die but I have to admire his dedication

NOW I’M FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEFALLIN

my major problem here is that, a) how is Shiro alive? he has no helmet, no oxygen tank. all the air should be sucked right out of his lungs. He should be dead, and b) NO HUMAN BEING CAN JUST BARREL THROUGH EARTH’S ATMOSPHERE UNPROTECTED LIKE THAT THE THERMOSPHERE IS LIKE 5OO KELVIN SHIRO SHOULD BE A CHARRED PILE OF BONES

we will remember this as the Battle of the Floating Arms

“Victory or de-” *Keith, falling fiercely from the sky* DEATH

aaaaaaaaaand the victory is short-lived

oh I missed this when is the last time they dedicated an entire episode to just fighting a giant-ass robot

KAWAII ANIME PLANCE

so what is this now? Dark matter? Dark quintessence?

Coran: but Voltron!

Shiro: bitch we are voltron

SoMeBoDy’S gOnNa DiEeE

is there anything I hate more than watching my children accept that they are about to die? My burning hatred for Severus Snape comes very close but no there is not

MATT HAS... I DUNNO WHAT IS THAT? A BOYFRIEND? A GIRLFRIEND? HE’S HOLDING SOMEBODY’S HAND AND HE LOOKS FABULOUS

how much you wanna bet that when Haggar disappeared she took over Lotor’s little Altean colony and now she’s using them for the robots

#voltron #s7 #reactions #it gets angstier every season #i forgot i made a list of my reactions #and then naturally when i found it again my first thought was #oh yah my three followers would love this #jk i actually have like fifteen followers #this has been fun #its been long and painful #but its been fun #because thats how logic works #right #kitty speaks

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londone-fog · 7 years ago

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The Light Will Guide You Home- It Star Wars AU

AO3 Link

I. II. III.

Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

Darkness is on the rise. Darth Assem the Wise has begun gradually over taking the galaxy with his Neibolt Regime. As his power grows, so does the power of his apprentice, the fearsome Darth Fide. With the demolition of the Jedi, the public is quickly losing hope.

Meanwhile, General Marsh and the Rebel Alliance struggle to keep the Regime on a short leash. With the rumor of a hidden Neibolt base on the abandoned Sith planet Korriban, they have made quick plans to follow up on the intel.

All they can do now is hope the force is with them...

IV.

Eddie Kaspbrak really hated sand. He really did. He hated how it stuck to every surface and how it grit under his shoes when he walked. It caked under his fingernails and blew into his hair. It was a deep orangish- red that stained things when wet.

But, oh, was it beautiful when the fading sunlight hit it. The grit in the air turned the sky to beautiful coral pinks and deep purples. He could see them in all their glory from his perch on his favorite cliff ledge, watching as the sun’s light slowly gave way to the light of Korriban’s seven moons.

The ledge was the only place that Eddie could really think. It was just far enough from the small hovelish hut he called home. He lived alone with his mother, and it was far from an easy feat. She was a nervous woman, always nattering on about Eddie falling off a cliff or getting lost to the long stretches of desert. She was blissfully unaware of his little hiding place; she would have a heart attack if she knew he was sitting so close, legs dangling a good thousand feet in the air.

But Eddie got bored. There were only so many times a day that he could tend to the small, tasteless garden they had tilled, or sweep every speck of red dirt that clung to their floor. Eddie was allowed to travel to the small trading outpost on a few rare occasions, taking his old speeder to trade for things they couldn’t grow or make themselves. Those days were his favorite. He loved looking at all the strange peoples that congregated there. Seeing a small huddle of stormtroopers wasn’t uncommon either. He would listen to them all. It was years after he was allowed to go that he began learning phrases in all of the strange languages that he heard spoken. Enough to understand just a little. He held this secret knowledge close to his heart, only to be whispered when he was alone in the dark.

Another one of Eddie’s most treasured secrets is what exactly he traded at the outpost. While yes, he did trade with some of the wry vegetation his mother grew, he also frequently made stops along the way. There were several large sights of ship crashes, including an old dreadnaught. He was acutely aware that Korriban was once controlled by the Sith, and was the sight of their temple and such. He would dig around and snag anything he thought to be vaguely valuable, earning just enough rations and supplies to keep them afloat. His mother was none the wiser.

But Eddie’s biggest hidden thing, was the voice. The voice that filled his head when he was away from his mother and could concentrate on anything other than the buzzing that surrounded him. He would sit on his cliff and look out, hearing the flicker of a voice licking across his mind. It was only something akin to static at the beginning, but now Eddie could form actual words. If it wasn’t so clear and obvious, Eddie would have thought himself crazy. He was entirely unsure whether the voice could hear him back or not.

That’s where he was, standing and listening closely, straining his ears. The voice was so clear; he could even hear the sounds surrounding the other end, almost like an echo. He reached out, head quickly filling with noise, eyes clamped shut in concentration.

Then silence, like he’d been sucked into a vacuum. All he could hear was gentle breathing, a mixture of his own and that of someone else.

“Hello?” Eddie quietly whispered, warm air ghosting his lips.

“Hello?” Nearly an echo, but it was not Eddie’s voice coming back to him. This was someone else.

“Who are you?” the voice asked, a tiny bit desperate. Eddie didn’t even think before he responded in turn.

“I’m nobody.”

“I think you’re wrong. You have to be more than just ‘nobody.’”

“Well, what about you? Who are you.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Nobody.”

“You can’t say that. Not if I’m not allowed to be nobody. Where are you, where do you come from?”

“I come from somewhere dark,” the voice said, the last syllable of his statement ringing in Eddie’s ears. He could almost see it, almost feel it. Somewhere with corridors, somewhere with stark blacks and reds. Somewhere that was, indeed, dark. “Where do you come from?”

“Somewhere light,” Eddie said in turn. He slowly opened his eyes for the first time, feeling the warmth of the sinking sun, feeling the sand beneath his palms. Solitude, peace, the zeal of freedom. The ever present pull. He let it flood him, and he listened as the voice felt it himself.

But then the vacuum was gone, and the voice with it.

The strangest thing, Eddie thought, was how it didn’t even feel like he was really saying anything. Something had done it for him, and he had just been along for the ride. Something that wanted him to connect.

He felt that Something very often. He felt it as he listened in on the conversations between the outpost patrons. He felt it when he stood far above the deserted expanse below him. He felt it all around, but he never understood what it meant. It sometimes scared him, the things he felt through it. But he never felt lonely.

When he lay in bed that night, he tried and tried to tune back into that vacuum, that voice and all of the cold that came with it. It scared Eddie. It scared him enough to seek it out.

He woke the next morning to his mother telling him exactly what he needed to hear; it was a day he was allowed to go to the outpost.

He jumped in his speeder and zoomed off quick as he could.

He would have never guessed what he’d see.

Eddie was listening, trying and trying to tune back to the dark. That’s when he saw it. The dark plume of smoke rising over the horizon caused him to steer away from his original location faster than anything. As the source of the smoke grew closer, it became obvious that it was the sight of a terrible crash. What was once a cruiser of some sort lay in ruin, smoke billowing out in a terrifying cloud.

Eddie leapt from his speeder, sure footed steps keeping him from slipping on the sand. As he drew nearer, he noticed three figures lying in the hot sun.

“Hey! Hey, what happened?”

The small shuffling of limbs was all the signal he needed to grab his canteen and approach the group. He tapped the shoulder of the nearest man, sand turning his kinked locks rusty.

“Who are you? What happened?”

The man groaned, slowly lifting his head. He squinted against the sun, dirt caked to his pale cheek. Little cuts littered the edges of his face, weakly leaking blood. Eddie kneeled down, carefully wiping sand from his face and offering his canteen. The man took it greedily, gulping a large sip of the liquid within.

“My name is Stan Uris,” he croaks, slowly moving to sit more upright.

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” They shake hands.

Eddie makes his way to the other two men, one large and blond, the other with dark skin and a stormtrooper uniform. They introduced themselves as Ben and Mike, respectively.

“Where do you guys come from?”

“We’re from the Resistance. We came here on a mission, but now we’re stranded,” Ben said, trying to shake the sand out of his orange flight suit. Eddie raised an eyebrow, vaguely gesturing to Mike.

“What about him? What’s with the stormtrooper get up?” Mike looked up, pausing his efforts to remove the white armour plates from his body.

“I decided to join the Resistance after my first battle. I’m not really cut out for killing people, I don’t think. I helped these guys escape from the Regime base, but we didn’t get very far…”

“Yeah, I can see that. You guys really look like you could use some help.”

“That obvious?” Stan scoffed, a strained smirk painted across his face. Eddie raised his eyebrow, then looked down to pick sand out from under his nail. He had an idea, but he wasn’t sure how it would work. He wasn’t sure how his mother would react, and that’s what scared him the most. But he had to do something.

“Look, there’s a trading outpost not far from here. We could find you a ride back to where ever you guys come from, and you can stay with me until then.”

The group all glanced around, silence palpable.

“We can’t just impose on you. We don’t have any way to pay you or anything,” Ben finally said, shakily standing. He almost didn’t make it upright.

“Look, now isn’t the time to be modest. You guys are fucked if I don’t help you. And I’d rather not leave you guys to dehydrate in the desert. So, I’m not really asking, I’m telling.”

Mike raised an eyebrow, and Stan just shrugged.

And that's how all four of them ended up piled into Eddie’s speeder, following the horizon to the outpost.

Once they arrived, however, the entire atmosphere changed. Nearly every strange being present turned their head to sneak a peek at the rag tag group. Stan and Ben had the sleeves of their flight suits tied around their waists, the obvious Rebel orange catching quite the amount of attention. Mike had at least thought to strip himself of the trademark white stormtrooper armour, instead wearing nothing but the black underclothes that the plates had been attached to. And Eddie, now a familiar face among the regulars, tugged self consciously at his tan, raggedy outfit.

Eddie quickly scuttled over to the rations counter, catching the attention of the man behind the counter.

“Look, these guys need some help, and fast. Are there any ships leaving in the next few days that have room for a few more passengers?” he asked, allowing a little desperation to trickle into his voice. The clerk scratched his chin, humming in thought.

“I think Pit is leaving in the morning. I might be able to call in a favor for you.”

“Thank you, you’re really helping me out here.”

But the clerk just leaned closer, speaking only loud enough for Eddie to hear.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing with those people, but it looks like a world of trouble. People aren’t really happy with those orange ones.” He gestures to Stan and Ben. “Watch yourself Kaspbrak.”

Eddie swallowed, but nodded as condescending as he possibly could.

Informing his mother of their unexpected guests, though, was something he couldn’t just will away.

“EDWARD KASPBRAK, WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?!” she shrieked, thick arms flailing as she ran to their small group. Eddie sighed, preparing himself for the anger storm that was fast approaching.

Sonia Kaspbrak was not one to easily let up control. Eddie knew that first hand; he had lived with her his whole life. She loved to keep both of their lives and schedules in a gridlock, immovable and permanent.

“They crashed their ship. I found them a ride from the outpost tomorrow morning. They’ll just be here for a night.”

Sonia flattened her mouth into a stern line, but didn’t protest. Her expression made it obvious, however, that her and Eddie were going to have a chat later. It made his insides clench.

“Just watch yourself. We aren’t involved in your little war, so don’t expect more support than this.” And with that, she stormed off to go fuss over something. Eddie followed her, trying to think of anything to say to diffuse the situation.

“Mama, they would have died if I didn’t pick them up. Nobody deserves to die in that desert, okay? I couldn’t just leave them.”

“You brought the war to us, Edward! Those people will think they can just stop by here anytime they like now.”

Eddie sighed, his mother’s paranoia washing over him and making him cringe.

“This is purely isolated. I was just doing a good thing. They leave in the morning.”

She still seemed unhappy, but didn’t push the issue. Eddie waited a moment for a response, but when none came, he grabbed a handful of blankets and made his way back to his room to set up makeshift cots.

He listened carefully as the three strangers chattered amongst themselves, whispering about what they were going to do.

“So, what exactly was the Resistance doing on a planet like Korriban? There’s nothing here but strange looking cliffs and sand,” Eddie said, fluffing out a scratchy tan blanket. Stan and Ben looked at each other, a strange look passing between them.

“Well, we were part of a fleet. We were sent to follow up on a rumor of a base on this planet,” Stan said, barely a mutter and with little eye contact.

“Well, I’m guessing the rumor was true?”

His question was met with three sets of withering looks.

“Understatement. What we found was the largest Neibolt Regime base in the galaxy, and an army of stormtroopers. We were the only ones not killed in the attack, and we were taken prisoner by Darth Fide,” Stan continued, voice strained. Hearing the name of the Sith spoken aloud made the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand on end, although he couldn’t place why.

“We were tortured for information for five days. That was, until Mike broke us out and helped us escape.” Ben lifted his shirt to accentuate the point, exposing the still healing wound on his stomach. Eddie felt air rush from between his teeth, cringing with sympathy pain.

“Bev must be worried sick. I doubt she knows we’re still alive. We don’t even know where the ship is, or what happened after we were captured. And Bill... “ Stan paused to swallow. “Our commander is gone. We have no leadership, no one to follow.”

Mike moved to place a large hand on Stan’s shoulder in an effort to comfort.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do know there is at least one of you that survived. Other than you guys obviously,” he said, voice gentle and smooth. Both pilots turned at breakneck speed, confusion written in plain view.

“What do you mean?”

“I told you I didn’t kill anyone. I had my gun aimed at someone, but I decided to shoot next to him and make it look like I killed him, but I didn’t. I think he just played dead the whole time.”

Eddie watched this discussion with open eyes, enamored by the story he was being told. He was vaguely aware of the fact that there was a war. Honestly, when was there ever not a war? But listening to these strangers had made it all the more real. More personal. Eddie knew his father had been heavily involved at the beginning, and that’s why his mother moved them out to this desolate wasteland. Because his father had died, and Sonia refused to have her son fall to the same fate.

But Eddie couldn’t just ignore it anymore. It was real now, and if what he’d heard about the Regime base was true, very close.

He thought about that later that night, lying awake in the dark. His guests gentle breathing filled the room, but it was nothing compared to the deafening roar he felt in his head. He was filled with so many conflicted ideas and feelings, it was like he was an entirely different person.

That was why he was so surprised when the vacuum finally returned, leaving everything scarily quiet. He took a deep inhale of breath.

“Hello.” he whispered.

“Hello. Seems like we can’t leave each other alone, can we?” the voice asked, a little less informal than before.

“It would appear so. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Surprised? Because you can hear someone else in your head?”

Eddie chuckled a little bit; it echoed around, making the void a little lighter.

“No, not really. I can usually only hear you if my head is clear. Everything is just really foggy right now. I suppose I’m unsure.”

“Unsure?”

“I feel a calling, but I don’t know what exactly that will entail. I guess I’m just scared.”

“Scared of change?” The voice appeared intrigued.

“Scared of anything other than nothing. That’s what my life has become. Nothing but an empty stretch.”

The voice was silent for a moment, but Eddie knew it was just thinking.

“What do I call you? I know your name isn’t just Nobody.”

“I know yours isn’t either,” Eddie said, but then he paused. “You can call me Eddie.”

His name echoed, and it was like something large had shifted.

“Eddie. Eddie… I like it. I might even call you Eds. How’s that sound?”

“Absolutely horrible. Please don’t ever call me that.”

“Sounds good, Eds. I guess in that case, you can call me Richie.”

Eddie ignored the awful nickname to relish the new information he’d gleaned.

“Huh, Richie’s an odd name for some disembodied voice inside my head.”

“So’s Eddie.”

He laughed a little at that.

But, just as quickly as he’d come, Richie was gone. Instead, Eddie’s name was being called by someone else. He jumped up from his bed, but the chanting was not deterred. It sounded like it was coming from below him.

Basement, he thought, stepping around the people littered on the floor. He tiptoed as quickly as he could, going into their storage room as fast as his feet could carry him.

He’d only ever been in the basement a few times in his life, his mother only permitting him down there to put dried foods in storage. But once he was down there, it wasn’t the vegetables that caught his attention. It was a large chest, hiding in the corner behind several boxes. Eddie shoved them away as steadfastly as his anxiety-corded body would allow.

By the time he wretched open the chest, he wasn’t even in control anymore.

Sitting atop random knick knacks and strange tan clothing, was a tarnished silver handle of sorts.

Tentatively, Eddie reached out and grabbed it.

The reaction was immediate. The feeling was something akin to being violently shot back in time. Visions passed around him in a wild storm of history and knowledge.

He saw a wild lightsaber fight, twelve figures in Jedi robes descending on one dark figure, but they were all quickly vanquished. He saw another man valiantly stand up to the same dark figure, his dark eyes shining with something that both scared and inspired Eddie. Their battle was epic, bright red and yellow blades flailing. But the dark was too strong, and the man was struck down. Eddie screamed, trying in vain to stop it all. But it was too much, every iota of light being crushed.

Then everything changed. He saw a pair of children, one with a mess of black hair and the other a sandy color. They were both crying, flames and violence surrounding them.

“I’m sorry, Stanny. I have to go now.”

The flames faded to rain, and Eddie watched as a darkly clothed man writhed and cried out, an imposing figure standing over him. Laughing. It was a terrible thing that rang out and all around.

The laughing morphed grossly into crying, and suddenly Eddie was watching himself as a child. He was standing next to his mother in front of a simple looking grave.

Where was his father?

Where was he?

wherewashewherewashewherewashewhere-

He was thrown back against the ground, back to the present in his basement. The strange tube was still clenched in his hand.

“Eddie?”

He quickly jumped up, turning on his heel. There in the doorway, shrouded in darkness, was his mother. Her eyes were wide in shock.

“Where did you find that?”

Eddie paused.

“It… called to me. It was calling me and I followed it. I saw… I saw everything.”

“No, I won’t have you ending up like your father. Put it back and go back to bed.”

“No.”

Sonia was shocked.

“No?”

“Mama, this is important. I can feel it.”

“No Edward. The Jedi killed your father, I won’t have you die from them too.”

Eddie swallowed.

“What do you mean?”

“Your father was a Jedi. He died in the first battle that started this war. That’s his lightsaber.” She sounded almost ashamed. Eddie looked down at the object in his hand. The metal had become warm in his hand, and he carefully inspected every groove and scar on its surface. His finger hovered over the button he knew would activate the blade.

When he pressed it, he was faced with a bright pole of amber-yellow light, illuminating the dark room and casting shadows across the walls. It felt easier than anything to hold it.

“You know I can’t stay with you forever,” Eddie said, sheathing the blade in the handle again.

“... yes, I know. But I had to protect you. I had you keep you away from all that violence. It’s not right, what’s happening in the galaxy right now.”

Eddie nodded, understanding.

The next morning, he helped Ben, Stan, and Mike load bags of rations and spare clothes into his speeder, his own bags joining in.

“Are you sure you want to come with us?” Stan asked, placing a supportive hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s time for me to do something.”

Stan smiled, then gestured to where Eddie’s mom was standing.

“May the force be with you!” she called out, waving as the group piled into the vehicle.

Eddie nodded, waved at his mother, and raced off across the sand.

#my writing #reddie #stenbrough #benverly #It (2017)#eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #stan uris #bill denbrough #Ben Hascom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #the light will guide you home #star wars

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