#its just a beautiful picture. i hope i did it justice with my short fic. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mbat · 5 years

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i wrote a short story ^_^

so i finally finished editing the story i had written last night!

i had seen @pyralart 's drawing (see below) of corrupted steven and i couldnt help myself, it had such story potential even if the story is short.

note that i didnt immediately notice certain details other did so some were added after the initial writing ^_^;

any criticism is appreciated as im still learning and please forgive me if this story isnt the best oof,

(insert weird attempt at a seperation i hope it doesnt look weird when i post this)

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Steven lay lashing in his bed. He was having harsh nightmares he'd only vaguely remember when he woke up, but they were enough to leave him sweating and groaning as he tried to escape them desperately in a plane of existence outside of his control.

It was only with a jolt of physical pain did he finally awake, and he had just about screamed when he did. It took him a moment to remember where he was and that he was okay....or well...mostly okay. He was feeling physical pain actually?

He yawned and stretched, not planning on returning to such painful sleep just yet. He stood up and went to go turn on the lights when he saw a patch of darkness on his arm. A bruise? he thought, wondering how much he'd been moving around in the night. He flicked the switch to the lights and got a better look at the splotch. Looked like a bruise....but when he poked it, it didnt hurt.

He inspected his other arm to see...another spot? And another! Were these spots....spreading? He looked at his legs. There were more there, growing and growing faster. He started panicking which only made it worse.

It took all of his willpower to not start crying or screaming. He didnt want to alert the others. This is probably nothing after all right?? maybe hes just hallucinating, or ate something weird and is having a reaction! Yeah, just something along those lines surely.

He wasnt entirely convinced by his panicked excuses though. He was breathing heavily and went to go put his hands on his head to ease the headache he was suffering from and squeaked at what he felt upon his head. Sharp horns. HORNS FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

Now he was ready to scream, but he still didnt want to be bothersome. He could fix it! Just go to the bathroom and use the diamond essences! Those will surely stop this!

He quickly walked to the bathroom, having a hard time seeing straight and walking straight too. He just about fell on his face trying to open the bathroom door.

He didnt bother turning on the light, he ran straight for the mirror and gripped the mirror with a much too tense hand as he just about slammed it open. His hand was so tense in fact that you could hear the mirror crack. He winced, the noise being louder than life yet impossible to hear over the pounding of his head. He turned the sink on and grabbed the bottles and quickly poured a few drops into the water, hands shaking. He went to go turn off the faucet but he had broke the handles before. He didn't have time for this!! He grabbed the faucet and twisted it. it kept rumbling but he would deal with it later once he was better, surely. He then splashed some water in his face, just about poking his own eye out with a claw that had sprouted from his hand.

He took a moment to pull the mirror back, accidentally cracking it some more as he finally saw himself with the help of the waters glow. He couldn't help but gasp loudly and just about pass out. His eye. Black sclera with a pink pupil. horns sticking out of his head and purple splotches ever so slowly growing and mocking him.

He stuck his face in the sink water trying even more to make it work. It did nothing. He went for the bath and started it full of panic, and tried to settle his beating heart while he waited but to no avail.

He stopped the faucet and went to go grab the diamonds bottles and ended up knocking everything off the rim of the sink in the hurry, crashing and crashing. He hoped no one could hear but the fear of them seeing him at any second was overwhelming. His mind raced like a horse as he poured the entirety of the diamond essences into the bathwater, desperately. They couldnt see him like this. They couldnt. No one could. It would be the end of the world and they'd know how much of a monster he truly was. He couldnt hide it anymore now.

He climbed into the tub, the water swirling calmly around him and illuminating the entire bathroom softly. He didnt bother to take off his clothes that he'd been wearing. He put his hands to his face, trying to not see what was happening but he wanted to know. He peeked between his fingers and watched, fearing the worst that was only getting even more worse.

The splotches still kept growing and spreading. He wanted to keep the tears from falling but the lump in his throat betrayed him and his vision blurred with tears and pain. He tried to choke out a sob uncontrollably but he couldn't even do that.

He lay paralyzed in place, uneven breathing and shifting water being the only noise in the whole universe to him. His mind spinning out of control as he drowned in his own trauma all swelling back to him like a tsunami.

He could see through the blur just enough to see his skin was almost entirely purple now. He felt pain all over as strange extra parts were ready to fly out of his painfully small skin, and he felt himself slipping away into a consciousness that he couldn't anymore comprehend. He finally let out a loud, piercing scream before succumbing to the pain and transformation.

#hope at least one person enjoys that #i wrote the initial unedited story between 1240 am and 120 am last night. 40 minutes #i was inspired and couldnt help myself. such a great picture prompt #shout out to pyralart for creating that drawing in the first place cause its so damn well done?? the details??? oh my stars???#its just a beautiful picture. i hope i did it justice with my short fic.#my art #my writing #steven universe #corrupted steven theory #steven universe future #12.13.19

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anotherbeingsworld · 4 years

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New Beginnings.

Pairing: Thomas Mendez x MC (Louiza Day - Sam Day (daughter))

Prompt: A final Goodbye for the final day of @julychoiceschallenge

Book: Mother of the year.

A/N: Hi, sooo I have a new fic today! It is my submission to the final day of the @julychoiceschallenge . This is my first time writing for Mother of the Year and, I hope I did it justice! I was terrified on posting this, but.. I am feeling awfully brave right now. I apologize for any grammar mistakes, since English wasnt my first language! I hope all of you enjoy it, and .. dont worry, Bryce will come back very very soon! 😉 Enjoy!

PS - I dont the characters except the storyline.

Warning: *minor* mentions of death. Death of a side character.

Tags: @baltersome , @mvalentine , @storyofmychoices , @fantasyoverreality98 , @jaxsmutsuo , @aylamwrites @choicesficwriterscreations , @julychoiceschallenge (I DONT KNOW WHO TO TAG since its not a Bryce fic! But, comment down if you want to be tagged in future fics!!💛)

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10 years ago, both the lives of Thomas and Luz Mendez were changed by the news of Soledad's death. The police knocked on their door, at midnight as Thomas was finishing up his work whilst Luz was in bed sleeping happily after the day she had. As the news dropped on every news channel, realization hits him like a brick, it was real. He had lost the love of his life, and Luz lost her mother.

Ten years later, at the exact same day. Both Thomas and Luz were never ready to face this day. Each year has been a challenge, as the pain of her sudden farewell was still felt by both of them. But, now… both of them are ready to move on from the pain. Their lives were changed once again by the arrival of Louiza Day and her beautiful daughter, Sam Day at Bernhardt Academy. Their existence in the Mendez's life gave a new meaning for both Thomas and Luz.

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Luz loves her mother, as they would spend lots of time together before she passed. She remembers the little moments with her, as she would always give the best hugs especially when she was sad. The memory of Soledad singing her favorite song before she goes to bed, or the moments where she and Luz to cook with her at their very own kitchen. Those memories hold a special place in her heart, but… today, the memory stood out even more; as somehow her face was much more clearer as every little thing that she saw in the house, everything brought back to her.

Growing up, she would never think someone would take her place. But, Louiza came through and showed that she adored both herself and Thomas in the way no one could. Louiza made Thomas happy, and the smile on her father's face made her realize; her dad is making the right choice. Luz being sisters with Sam was a bonus, as they are best friends for life and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Luz glanced at her bedside table, as there were two frames. One of them was a picture of Soledad and Thomas hugging her years ago, as the smile that was displayed was bigger than anything in the world. And, a few inches away, a new frame where it was a memory of a hiking day with Louiza and Sam. A picture of them reaching the top of the hill, after a long day of hiking. Luz smiles at both of the frames. Her life was changed when Soledad left, and it was changed once more when Louiza and Sam came.

She puts on her favorite dress, as she wore a cardigan over it. There was a knock on the door, as she heard a voice.

'Luz honey, let's go. We are leaving soon.' The voice said from the other side of the door, as Luz gets herself ready.

'Yes, mom! I'm coming.' She replied as she took a bouquet of Daisies that she bought with Sam the day before, as she leaves the room.

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Thomas is getting himself ready in the other room, as he wore a tux; the same one he wore at her funeral years ago. He never stopped thinking about her, or what might have been if Soledad was still alive. There were plans made for both of them, as it was almost their anniversary when the accident happened. Ten years ago, his life had changed and, he felt lost. He always depends on Soledad, since she was considered as an alpha parent herself. The first few years without her is tough, he had to learn to be strong for Luz.

The arrival of one Louiza Day and her daughter, Sam into his life took him by surprise. He has sworn, the first moment at the bookstore, it was the first time he felt butterflies. It felt like being in high school once again discovering our first love. Louiza has her own charm and wits that he adores. But, above all she was there for him during his hardest moments. She would be there as she held him in her arms a few years ago, this day. She was brave on standing up to what's true, and the way she held her head up during the custody battle for Sam and working side jobs for the sake of her daughter, he admired her. He didn't realize he had fallen deep for her, as they were dancing in the living room to Frank Sinatra, she wasn't very much of a dancer, but… she was the best partner one could ever ask for. And, from that moment; he knew she was the one.

The fear that comes through with the feelings making his mind torn into a million pieces. He feared that Soledad wouldn't be happy with his decisions, he feared that he would be selfish to put his feelings first. He was afraid if Luz wouldn't accept his decision on moving on. But…one day, waking up in his bed, he wanted to be selfish for once, because he knows Soledad would want him to be happy. And, from that day on; he took his chance and, he didn't regret a thing. He gives in to his feelings because he wanted too.

He adjusts the lapels of his suit, as he heard footsteps coming from the door. He glances at the figure, as she walks towards him. She walks slowly, as she held onto the small bump that was shown through the dress.

'Are you ready?' She said as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

'With you, always.' He replied softly as they kissed.

They heard noises coming from the door once more, as Luz, Sam, and James are standing there giggling as they let out gagging noises which made them both chuckle. Thomas and Louiza walked out of the room, as he carries little James, their first child together in his arms whilst Luz and Sam held Louiza's hands. They left the house, as they started their small journey together.

The drive was short, as Thomas would felt a pang of sadness this time of the year. But, glancing at the passenger seat, he realizes he was not alone. He had a family who is going to be there for him when he felt down. Louiza squeezes his free hand, as she held it giving him the comfort through the short drive.

It was almost six in the evening, as they arrived at their destination. The scenery was beautiful, as the skies were clear and the atmosphere was calm. A beautiful day indeed. Thomas turns off the engine, as he took a deep breath steadying himself. He had done this several times, but it never failed to make him nervous.

'Its gonna be alright dad.' Luz said softly as she squeezes his shoulder from the backseat.

'We got you dad, right mom?' Sam said as she scoots forward placing a hand above Luz's.

Louiza nodded, as Thomas started to feel at ease. They finally exit the car and made their way through the Goldcliffe Cemetary. Luz and Sam were walking hand-in-hand, whilst James is in Thomas's arms, while Louiza follows beside him, with hands secured on her belly which is growing every day. It was their second child, as their family is growing every day.

The walk was short, as they finally arrived at Soledad's tombstone. It was near a large tree, as the leaves from the tree slowly falls from the wind. Thomas kneeled as Luz and Sam followed. They cleaned up the area, it has been their routine for the past ten years. After everything was done, Luz places the Daisies on top of it, as Sam held her hand the whole time.

'Hey mom, it's us! We all decided to came by today, and…we miss you. Dad and I missed you so so much, I hope you are doing amazing wherever you are. I told Sam and Louiza all of our stories and they enjoyed every part of it especially the ones where you burned the chili whilst making dinner! They loved you too, and little James also is giving you all the hugs as you would always give me. I love you, and I can't wait to see you again.' Luz stops herself before getting too emotional, as she clings onto Sam for support.

Thomas kneels, as he places his hand on the carvings on her name.

'We miss you so much love, I hope you are flying high wherever you are, never stop being your beautiful self and, know that I will always love you. Just like in our vows, 'We will always going to be together and nothing is gonna tear us apart.' and I will cherish your memory wherever I go, as you have taught me everything from being a father and, to being a great man. Thank you for everything love.' Thomas whispered slowly, as he stood up from the stone. The sun is about to set, as the skies transformed into various colors. It was a pinch of pink, and a combination of orange in the blend too.

Louiza places a kiss on his cheek, as the tears were in her eyes also. She never knew Soledad, but the stories she had lived to hear, she knew that Soledad was an amazing human being who had lived her life full of love and happiness.

The skies were beautiful, as Luz smiled happily at the sight of it. Thomas too, a wide smile on his face, knowing that he is finally ready to let go, especially the pain. Luz and Thomas hugged each other as it was somehow felt like a sign to them that Soledad was in a much better place and she was in peace. Louiza and Sam including little James stood by them both, as the day couldn't have ended any other way.

They finally said their final goodbye to the pain, as they are ready to move forward knowing Soledad is happily watching them wherever she is now.

Thomas glances into Louiza's eyes, as it softens.

'I love you.' He stated as he held her in his arms. She was about to reply, before Sam and Luz beat her to it.

'WE LOVE YOU TOO!' All of them said at the same time, pulling Thomas into a bear hug, his very own family.

Sometimes, the point of letting go is the chance to allow ourselves to have closure once more. Standing there, at the beautiful land as they said their final farewells to the past, moving on into the future. Luz and Thomas were ready to face the future, knowing that the past is always going to be there to guide them forward onto a new beginning or perhaps, a new edition to their very own family.

THE END.

A/N #2: Hii, I hope all of you enjoy it!!! This has been a fun write and it hits really hard at home, but.. I hope all of you loved it! Dont forget to like, reblog and comment, it means a lot. 💛 Thank you for reading - A

#july choices challenge #thomas mendez x mc #mother of the year #choices #mother of the year fics #thomas mendez #luz mendez #anotherbeingsworldwrites #goodbye #tw: death

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quickspinner · 5 years

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Flash Forward

Inspired by Clairvoyance by @whatarubberchicken

Clairvoyance has always been one of my fav fanfics, and a bout of insomnia plus a 'what if Lukanette' thought later, this fic was born. Nothing is the same but the basic premise, but I hope I did the original justice.

If you prefer you can read it on AO3.

Luka opened his eyes, and stared at an unfamiliar white ceiling. He felt heavy and slow, as though he were waking from a deep sleep. But...he hadn’t been asleep, and this wasn’t his room. There was no steady motion, the ceiling was too high and too white. He moved slowly, looking around at a sunny, cheerful...apartment? His arm came down from where it had been over his head and he felt fabric under his hand; he was laying on a couch.

Luka shifted and sat up slowly. There was a hiss and a small weight tumbled off his chest. He put up his hand to catch it, but missed as he was distracted by the sight of his own arm. Specifically, at the snake tattoo winding up his forearm that he definitely didn’t have this morning.

“Luka,” a raspy voice complained. “A little warning next time.” A small green snake-like being floated into his vision. Luka’s eyes went huge and he started to hyperventilate.

“What the hell?” he whispered. “What—what are you? How do you know my name? Where am I? What the hell is going on?” Some instinct kept his voice low, though his pitch increased with his panic.

The floating snake being’s eyes narrowed, and he floated closer. “I am Ssssasssss, your kwami. Have you had a nightmare?.”

“Kwami? What’s—what is that? And what do you mean, you’re mine?”

Sass floated closer still, and Luka froze as the little kwami’s slit-pupils eyes filled his vision. He felt a light touch on his face. “You are out of your time,” the kwami said cryptically, backing away to a more comfortable distance. “What issss the last thing you remember?”

Luka frowned, thinking. “I took a walk down the Seine. I found a nice spot and I was playing my guitar. The music festival is in a couple of weeks and I was working on a song. Then there was—“ His eyes widened. “I was hit by an akuma.”

“Ah. Excussse me a moment. Wait here, I will return.” The...kwami? zipped away deeper in the apartment.

Luka sat there, confused and a little scared. For lack of anything else to do, he lifted his arm and looked at the tattoo again. It was actually pretty sick, a hooded cobra with a diamond pattern on its back, intertwined with flowers. He wondered if he had any others.

Luka looked up as Sass returned. Sass seemed to relax, folding his legs in midair and curling his tail around his body. Distantly Luka recognized the diamond pattern on the kwami’s tail as the same one on his arm. “There issss no need to fear.” Sass told him. “Your mind will return to your time when Ladybug cleansesss the akuma and sssendsss the cure. It should take no more than a few hours.”

“My time?” Luka asked, bewildered. “Where am I now?”

“Thisss isss your home,” Sass replied calmly. “But the better question isss when are you now. How old are you?”

“I just turned seventeen last week.”

“About ten yearsss in your future, then. We recently celebrated your twenty-seventh cycle. ” Sass’s tongue flicked out and Luka got the impression of amusement. “You mussst be very confused indeed. It isss best of you do not know too much. Jussst go with the flow and enjoy the moment. Play along for now.”

“Play along with what?” Luka asked, bewildered.

“Your life,” Sass chuckled. He flicked his tail toward the pictures on the wall. Luka got up and went over to look at them. The biggest in the middle immediately caught his eye.

“I’m—married?” he whispered. He raised his left hand and stared at the silver band on his ring finger. He looked back at the picture and felt an odd rush as he stared, not at himself, but the petite black-haired woman beside him, blue-eyed and smiling from ear to ear. “Wow,” he whispered breathlessly. “God, she’s beautiful—When do I meet her?”

“When the time issss right,” chuckled Sass. He looked off to one side. “Or perhaps now. Her name is Marinette.” He slipped out of sight.

“Luka?” a voice said softly behind him, and he turned and froze as he found himself faced with the real life version. She smiled at him, not so wide as in the wedding picture, but softer, warmer. Kind. His heartbeat picked up. “Oh good, you’re awake. I hope you had a good nap. We’ve both been so tired lately.”

“Marinette,” he whispered, remembering what Sass has told him, and her smile grew a little.

“Hey rock star.” She crossed the room to him and put her arms lightly around his waist. “Still waking up?”

Play along, Sass had told him. “I guess so,” he said roughly. “Or maybe I’m still asleep,” he added, taking in every detail of her face. His heartbeat quickened further. Her soul sang to him, vibrant and alive and intoxicating. Something in him knew her, even if his conscious mind didn’t.

“Charmer,” she smiled, “I guess I’ll just have to wake you up.” She leaned up and kissed him.

Oh God, if this was a dream he never wanted to wake up. Stunned as he was, his body clearly knew her, welcomed her, his arms coming up to hold her, his lips moving with hers like they knew exactly what to do. The rush of desire that coursed through him when she pressed her body up into his was both thrilling and confusing. Luka was kissing this woman ten years older than him that he just met, but he was married to her. On top of that, he shouldn’t have a seventeen year old’s hormones in this body but he sure as hell felt like he did.

Body switching time travel was weird.

She pulled away and for a moment he followed her before catching himself and straightening. The sight of Sass clearly laughing at him over Marinette’s shoulder helped sober him a little. Then Marinette reached up and lightly raked manicured nails across his scalp just above his neck and his eyes half closed in pleasure even as he registered that his hair was short where she touched him though he could feel hair falling on his forehead—did he have an undercut? He needed a mirror.

“We need to go get ready,” she told him. “Juleka will be here soon.”

“Sure,” Luka said dreamily, still focused on her fingers in his hair. God that felt good. He sighed when she drew her hand away.

“Come on,” she said, tugging his arm lightly. “Your suit’s laid out on the bed. And don’t you dare ‘lose’ the tie again.”

He made a face, and she laughed. “I know you hate them,” she teased, “But despite your high opinion of me I can’t change the fashion world overnight, so you’ll have to wear one at least for this party. You knew these galas were part of the deal when you married me, lover.”

Seventeen year old Luka would have blushed crimson at the nickname. Grown-up Luka only felt a faint heat in his face. “Yeah, I can’t see that stopping me from marrying you,” he managed, and she gave him a blinding smile that made his knees weak.

“Go,” she said, pushing him towards the hallway she’d come out of. He walked down it blindly, Sass floating alongside him.

“I sssee enjoying the moment will not be a problem,” the kwami chuckled.

“She’s amazing,” Luka breathed, clutching at the heart threatening to jump out of his chest. “I’ve never felt like that...Is this really my future?”

“At the moment, yesss,” Sass said cautiously. “Time isss fluid. You mussst ssstill work for it.”

“I will,” Luka said firmly, and then paused, looking at the doors in the hall.

“Left,” Sass instructed.

“Thanks.” Luka went through the door into the master bedroom. As Marinette had promised, a suit was laid out neatly on the bed, much nicer than anything he’d ever owned. He changed quickly, trying to keep his gaze from lingering on the bed. Shit, he was tall, he realized as he pulled on his long pants. He was in for a lot of smacking his head on doorways if he grew this way while he still lived on the boat.

Luka jumped when Marinette opened the door behind him, and immediately felt stupid. They were married, of course she wouldn’t knock. He was just glad he already had the suit pants on. To her they might be married, but to him, she was still a (really attractive, wow) stranger. Luka turned away quickly when she began to undress, chatting lightly about whatever this party was they were going to. Gala, she’d said; was she an artist or performer?

There were more pictures on the walls, and he looked at them as he buttoned his shirt, partly to keep his mind off the woman undressing behind him. These weren’t formal portraits, but candid photos of them with friends and family and each other. He found one where they were quite young, surrounded by some of Juleka’s friends, in his favorite jacket and hoodie, the ones he’d been wearing this morning in fact. I’ll meet her soon then, he thought, fighting the urge to cheer. He found one of Marinette in a cap and gown, hugging a small Asian woman and being hugged by a huge mustachioed man who had such a look of pride that he could only be her father.

Then he found a picture of himself in some sick stage gear with a fancy guitar, standing next to—

“Sass,” he hissed, when Marinette went into the bathroom. “I played with Jagged Stone?”

Sass chuckled. “You did.”

“Holy shit,” he muttered. “Will I remember this when it all goes back to normal?”

“Difficult to sssay,” the snake kwami spread his flippers out. “Mossst will not, but asss my partner you are a special case. Mossst likely, yes you will remember sssome of it, but as one remembers a dream. A few clear details, and the rest a haze.”

I won’t forget her, then, he thought, tucking his shirt in and shrugging into his coat, eyes on a picture of him dipping Marinette into a kiss in front of a fountain. Did he know that fountain? It looked familiar.

He froze when a thin wail echoed through the small apartment.

“Luka, can you get the baby?” Marinette called. “I’m not quite done.”

Baby?? He whirled around and looked at Sass, who just grinned, tongue flicking in amusement.

“Luka?” Marinette called again.

“Uh, sure!” Luka called back, stumbling towards the bedroom door, tripping over his suddenly larger than usual feet. Sass went ahead of him, chuckling as they led him down the hallway.

“You are having way too much fun with this,” Luka muttered. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about the integrity of the space-time continuum or some geeky shit like that?”

Sass paused outside the room where the wailing was coming from, “We have been partnersss for many yearsss,” Sass told him, and there something undefinable in the kwami’s smile that gave Luka the shivers. “I realize you have no reason to trussst me, but I trussst you.”

Luka flushed, but before he could say anything, the kwami phased through the door. Luka blinked for a moment. “Neat trick,” he muttered to himself, carefully opening the door. Sass was hovering over a white crib, crooning a sibilant

lullaby.

Luka leaned over the crib, but at the sight of the swaddled and wailing infant, he panicked. “Sass, what do I do?”

“Pick her up,” Sass instructed blandly. “Just mind her head.”

Luka slid his hands, still thin and long but also bigger than he remembered, under the baby, sliding one up under her neck, and lifted her carefully out of the crib. “Oh my God,” he whispered, a fresh wave of panic washing over him. She was so tiny in his grown-up hands.

But once again, with his brain paralyzed, it was as if his body knew what to do. He pulled the baby close and held her to his chest, swaying and making gentle shushing noises. Luka found himself relaxing a little bit and the crying quieted. Softly he sang, “My love is like a red, red rose,” as his mother used to sing to him and Juleka. “My love is like a melody that’s sweetly played in tune.”

Luka brought the baby up to his shoulder and rubbed his cheek against her soft hair. She made a soft cooing noise. “What’s her name?” he asked quietly.

“Erika,” Sass replied. “With a k.” Luka looked at him and Sass shrugged. “Your mother insisted.”

“She would,” Luka chuckled, and resumed singing to her. “And fare thee well my only love, and fare thee well awhile,” he sang. Luka looked up as Marinette appeared in the doorway, dressed in a glittering gown with her hair in an updo. “And I will come again my dear, though it were ten thousand miles,” he finished softly, eyes fixed on her.

Marinette smiled and came to him. Luka lowered the baby, thinking Marinette meant to take her. Instead she looped the tie he’d left on the bed around his neck and began to tie it for him. “You’re such a good dad,” she said affectionately, and Luka blushed.

She finished with his tie and then stepped back, smoothing the fabric of her dress self-consciously around her middle. “Do I look okay?”

“You’re stunning,” Luka told her honestly. “I can’t believe this is my life. I can’t believe I get to be with someone like you, and—“ He looked down at the baby in his arms, who was beginning to scrunch her face and fuss a little. “I can’t believe I get to have this.”

Marinette smiled, coming near to lay her head on his shoulder and caress the baby’s face. “It’s still overwhelming sometimes isn’t it? Let me take her, I’ll change her while you make her a bottle.

Luka opened his mouth and then shut it again. He just gave her the baby and walked out of the nursery. He didn’t have the faintest idea how to make a bottle, but he couldn’t explain that to Marinette, and he felt he was less likely to irrevocably screw up a bottle than changing the baby. Sass zipped in front of him once he was out of Marinette’s sight. Luka wondered if she knew about the kwami. What was a kwami, anyway? Sass had avoided that answer.

Sass guided him through making the bottle, and Marinette came out with the baby just as he was breathing a sigh of relief at having accomplished it. Luka hovered while she fed the baby—his daughter, oh my God—trying to look at more of the pictures around the room without being too obvious.

“There,” Marinette said, setting Erika in a baby swing by the window that Luka hadn’t even noticed and switching it on. Erika waved her little hand at the brightly colored baubles hanging from it as it swayed her back and forth. “Hopefully that’ll keep her happy for a bit.”

Marinette sighed as she straightened, and then come towards him. He opened his arms automatically to receive her. She snuggled into his chest for a moment (best feeling ever). “I’m excited to go out tonight, but nervous about leaving her. It’s our first night out together since she was born,” she said quietly, and Luka squeezed her tighter at the vulnerable tone in her voice.

Then, grinning up at him, she tugged him down by the tie and kissed him, and Luka was forced to revise his opinions on ties just slightly. Maybe they weren’t all bad. He lost his mind just a little bit when her fingers slid up into his hair again. He pulled her up against him, and lost the rest of his senses in her.

“Mmm, down boy,” she giggled, pulling away from him. “Juleka’s going to be here any minute and I know you don’t want to answer the door all hot and bothered.”

“Right,” he said said breathlessly, wondering if he was always this goggle-eyed and speechless in her presence or if she would eventually notice he was acting like a complete moron.

She gave him a smile that made his toes curl. “I’ll make it up to you when we get home.”

Oh God. Kissing was one thing, but he hoped Ladybug managed to fix things before then because he was pretty sure that if he had to consider the implications of sleeping with his future-wife that he’d just met while in twenty-seven-year-old him’s body it would give him some kind of mental breakdown. Not to mention that she would surely figure out something was up—something was wrong if he passed out the moment she touched him.

A knock at the door saved him from his mini meltdown. “There she is,” Marinette moved away from him to answer the door. Luka took the chance to breathe a little bit and give his older self a mental nod of respect for being around that every day and still managing to, apparently, function like a normal adult.

“Hi bro,” he heard behind him.

“Hey Jules,” he answered automatically, turning, only to get another shock. Juleka had always been pretty, but she’d grown up into a beautiful woman. More importantly, she stood tall, her shoulders back, her hair pulled away from her face, and she looked him in the eye.

He almost teared up, he was so proud. She cocked an eyebrow. “You’re being weirder than usual,” she said.

Not mumbled. Not grunted. She said it. Softly and in a deadpan tone, but audibly, and clearly.

Luka hugged her, overcome. She startled, but patted his back.

“He’s a little emotional today,” Marinette said beside him, rubbing his arm. “I’m supposed to be the one with the post-pregnancy mood swings,” she teased.

Luka straightened and let Juleka go, smiling at them both. “I just feel lucky, that’s all.”

“Whatever,” Juleka huffed, in a very typically Juleka fashion that made him grin. “Where’s my little monster?” She shoved past him, heading for the baby. Marinette slipped under his arm and he put it around her shoulders, squeezing lightly.

Suddenly he felt dizzy, and dimly he heard Marinette say “Luka?” and suddenly everything went black.

He woke up on his back on cold cement, staring up at the clear blue sky, with the familiar sound of the Seine in his ears. I’m back, he thought numbly. His head hurt, probably where he had cracked it on the pavement passing out.

Passing out. Did future me pass out? I hope I didn’t worry Marinette.

Marinette. He blushed—a proper intense, 17-year-old blush—and covered his face with his hands. He picked himself up off the pavement, checked his precious guitar over. If it had been damaged in his fall, Ladybug had fixed it. He packed it up in the case and started his walk back home.

Sass was right. No matter how much he thought over his—vision? Or whatever it was...anyway, the details slipped away. Even Marinette was fading; the feel of her in his arms and the thrill of her kiss was slowly but surely growing foggy moment by moment. By the time he got to the Liberty, all that remained was a hazy impression of love and happiness and belonging and the utter certainty that he wanted it back. Only a few things remained clear—Sass, his future wife’s eyes, her song, the softness of his daughter’s hair on his cheek, his pride in Juleka.

Luka faced his mother’s interrogation, and her brief but genuine concern as she inspected his head and declared it harder than the pavement. Then he went below to his room, feeling tired and vaguely empty. Luka sat on his bed staring at at his bare forearm for a few minutes, and then kicked off his shoes and flopped full length on it.

He wasn’t ready for any of that stuff, Luka told himself. Marriage, fatherhood, are you kidding? He had plenty of life to live before he got to that point. This was fine. He was fine where he was. He liked his unhurried pace. Savor the moment. Live every breath. No strings, very few rules. A wife and a kid and fancy parties (was there a party? he thought he remembered something about a party)...would there even be room for his art in a life like that? It all seemed so...mainstream. Not exactly the rock star lifestyle or wandering street artist that usually popped up in his bored daydreams on the rare days he bothered to think about the future. And there was no passion in marriage. Not like his parents’ long-running on-again off-again chaotic love affair. Marriage was boring and...stable. Secure. It wasn’t like he wanted that.

He remembered those eyes and the way they had looked at him and a warm feeling started in his chest. He no longer remembered what it had felt like to kiss her, but he remembered that it was good. And definitely not passionless.

Luka pulled his pillow over his head and groaned. He’d never been very good at self-deception.

Sunset light was filtering through the portholes when he woke up. He sat up in his bed, ruffled his hair, and rubbed his face.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty,” Juleka mumbled from her vanity, where she sat brushing her hair.

Luka sighed. “Hey Jules. Were you near the akuma?”

“No,” she replied. “Nowhere close.”

“Good.” He got to his feet and stretched his back.

“Leftovers in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

“I’m always hungry,” Luka groaned, stretching forward.

“Maman didn’t want to wake you for dinner but we saved you some. She said you got hit?” She looked up at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, coming over to squeeze her shoulder. “Nothing Ladybug couldn’t fix. My head doesn’t even hurt any—“ he stopped, staring at her wall.

“Luka?” Juleka frowned at him.

“Can I see that?” he asked, pointing.

Juleka gave him a look but reached up and pulled the picture down, handing it to him.

Luka stared at the picture of Juleka and two of her classmates. Juleka’s visible eye was open wide, her smile huge, and she was claiming her space in the picture. If he tried, he could see the beginnings of the woman she would become.

But it was the heavenly blue eyes of the girl next to her that caught his attention and quickened his pulse. “Remind me who this is again?”

“It’s Rose and Marinette, from my class,” Juleka mumbled. “I told you about Marinette. She set up the photos and broke the curse.” Slowly she reached for the picture, giving him a concerned look the whole time. He let her take it from his hand and watched her put it back up on the wall. No. No way it was this easy.

“Marinette,” he said to himself thoughtfully. “What’s she like?”

“She’s a sweetheart, until you make her mad. Got some fire in her. Designs clothes. Crazy talented and mad skills to boot. Hates horror movies though.” Luka smiled. That was a pretty big character flaw in Juleka’s eyes, but since he didn’t like them either, it was fine by him. Juleka studied him a moment. “What’s wrong with you, you’re being weird,” she told him flatly.

“I just think her eyes are pretty,” he said, shrugging, and then his stomach growled. “Ugh, I’m going to go eat.”

“Well,” Juleka said slowly as she watched him walk away, “I invited her over for the music festival, so you can meet her in person then.”

“Yeah?” he said absently as he turned away. The music festival was only a couple weeks away. “Cool.”

By the time the festival came, he had managed to put his little out-of-body-and-in-his-other-body experience out of his mind. With as much practice as they’d been cramming in, and all the decorating and set up, getting the lights and the sound all working the way they wanted them to, it wasn’t even that hard.

The number of people on the boat was beginning to get to him and Luka had gone downstairs for a little quiet time before rehearsal, and he must have been down there longer than he meant because they sent someone down looking for him. He heard her startle and, chuckling, he opened his eyes and met hers and…he didn’t know this girl except for Juleka’s picture but...

But he knew those eyes.

And her soul sang.

#fics #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #ml fics #quickspins

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xxpadfootxx · 4 years

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🐾Night Terrors & New Beginnings - Part 1 (Dragons & Heroes)🐾

Summary: Izuku Midoriya had never seen a dragon in his life, only pictures. All dragon attacks were nullified in the media so as to avoid any panic within large cities, and so he had not even seen a dragon on video. That was why he had absolutely no clue what to do when he found himself staring into the intense depths of a dragon’s eyes

A/N: So I know this sounds like a weird concept but I’ve come to really enjoy writing this series. It’s an HTTYD & MHA crossover fic. I know it sounds weird but people seemed to like it on my ao3 so I’ll post it here too just to see what you guys think. More one shots are on the way tho for those who don’t care for this series. Either way, I’m gonna keep posting more chapters and see what you guys think. I promise I tried to make sure it didn’t become hectic or crazy by smashing these two concepts together, but we’ll see what you guys think! I also would like to point out that I wrote the beginning of this story AGES ago, so I apologize ahead of time for the decrease in writing quality and possible grmatical errors. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

Dragons were rare. Or at least, dragons seemed rare since they did not reveal themselves too often. They were dangerous, vicious and bloodthirsty creatures that preyed on those who did not pay attention, the innocent who did not look above them when going for a walk. Deaths caused by dragons did not happen too often in the city anymore because of the large number of dragon hunters who protected the cities from the blazing fire and sharp talons of the beasts but they did happen every once in a while when a dragon escaped from behind bars or managed to pick off a person from the edge of a town or city. Despite the significant research done and the statistics to support that information, Izuku Midoriya had never seen a dragon in his life, only pictures. All dragon attacks were nullified in the media so as to avoid any panic within large cities, and so he had not even seen a dragon on video. That was why he had absolutely no clue what to do when he found himself staring into the intense depths of a dragon’s eyes.

Izuku’s head hurt and his arms were sore from the rigorous training he had just done with All Might. Ever since he had gotten into UA, Izuku had done daily training sessions with All Might so as to improve his use with One for All, going to either Dagoba Beach where he had cleaned all of the trash, or moving to a peaceful clearing in the woods on the other side of town to spar with the great Symbol of Peace. He had been getting better, using his new physical strength from their pre-spar exercise routine, but he was still no match for All Might. He sighed to himself and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. All Might had offered him a ride home after their harsh training session but Izuku figured that walking would do him good and had taken the scenic route back towards his home. The trees around him swayed in the breeze and the birds chirped over his head merrily. Izuku paused in a clearing and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smell of the late spring air. He smelled the slight watery smell of the creek that lay nearby. He smelled the sweet scent of flowers and relished in the feeling of the sun on his face. He took one last deep breath before he started to walk again. The smells were pleasant, the flowers, the creek, the sun, the grass, the blood…

Izuku jolted to a halt, his step faltering to the point of almost making him fall over. He sniffed the air again, unsure if he smelled it correctly. Fear crept up his spine as he took in that metallic scent once again. That was definitely blood, and it was strong wherever it was. Izuku wanted to keep walking down the pretty pathway through the woods. He wanted to make it home before dinner so that he would not worry his mother. He wanted to do anything but investigate, but his legs were plotting against him. He felt as if he could no longer control his body as it turned him and forced him to pad through the tall grasses, straying away from the path, to see what was going on. He walked for a little while, the trees around him closing in on him, forming narrow lines. The grass was shorter here and the sun was beginning to become blotted out by the thick canopy of trees above him. He shivered as a chill set in, and he wanted nothing more than to turn back, to find the sun and the safety of the path, but his legs once again ignored his brain and continued to trek deep into the woods. The smell of blood was really strong now, he placed the hem of his shirt over his nose and mouth to avoid choking on the stench. Finally, he broke through the last row of trees and peered into a large clearing. The clearing normally would have been beautiful, short grass that was dappled with shadows on the corners but bright and sunny in the center with a glittering creek running through the center, gleaming in the lowering sun. Izuku may have even admired its natural perfection had the situation been different. But it wasn’t. The clearing was covered in blood, the grass was soaked with it, stained a deep red. There were no bodies but Izuku noticed some of the blood that dripped slowly from the branch of a nearby tree. But that was not even the worst part.

In the center of the clearing was a dragon.

Izuku sucked in a terrified breath and fumbled to reach for the knife that he kept at his hip. He was not normally one to carry a knife, but his mother had been worried about him wandering around on his own now that he was going UA and had given him a pocket knife for his birthday. It wasn’t much and he was worried that it wouldn’t even penetrate the pelt of a dragon, but it was all that he had. His hand shook as he held the knife aloft, his whole body tense and waiting for the creature to pounce on him and add him to the bloody stew in the clearing. He could see the creature looking at him, its eyes wide and its cat-like pupils narrowed into slits. Izuku tried to calm his breathing, he was probably with the most dangerous animal on the planet, if he panicked, he was dead.

His eyes darted around the clearing as he tried to piece together a plan, anything to help him in this situation. He did not know why the dragon had not attacked him yet, but he could not assume that he was safe just because the creature was lying on its side. He had no idea what species of a dragon it was and he could not judge whether it was a hunting tactic or whether it was just tired and full. His fingers tightened on the knife and Izuku locked eyes with the beast. He would fight. He knew he couldn’t win but he just had to try, for the sake of the people who he assumed did not leave this clearing and for the sake of those who had helped him to become who he was now. He stood up straighter and took one shaky step into the clearing. The dragon lifted the corner of its lip in a half snarl and let out a cross between a growl and a pained groan. Izuku froze, the knife shaking so badly in his hand that he could barely keep ahold of it, and waited in a half-crouched position for the beast to leap out at him with its claws outstretched and flames billowing out of its mouth. The dragon lifted its head slightly, watching him with wide eyes before letting its head fall back to the ground with a muffled thump.

Izuku let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding. His legs felt like jello but he forced himself to take another step, and then another. The dragon did not even react this time, its head remaining on the ground and its eyes closing. The dragon did nothing. Even though most of its body was obscured by a large boulder, Izuku could tell that its whole body was limp. It was vulnerable, maybe it was exhausted from killing the people in the clearing. Izuku decided that this was his chance to kill the beast and escape with his life and the justice of the dead who did not manage to kill the dragon. With a loud battle cry, Izuku launched forward, the knife thrust in front of him, running at the dragon with all of the strength he could muster. The dragon again did not react and merely turned its head away with a sigh. Izuku rounded the boulder and raised his arm to bring down the knife when the sight of the creature’s body caused him to freeze in place.

The dragon was lying on its side with its legs, tail, and wings bound by firm ropes with hooks on the ends that sank into its flesh on its chest and lower back. Its back leg was twisted horribly in the wrong direction and one of its wings was obviously broken at the curve, a shiny white bone sticking out of the top like a white knife. Scars and open wounds crisscrossed over the dragon’s body like a grotesque map, including an enormous gash that was leaking blood all over the meadow ground, and one of the dragon’s eyes was swollen shut with three long claw marks that started a little bit above the eyelid, went over the eyelid and ended a few centimeters below the eye. Izuku stood with his mouth agape, the knife held aloft in a shaking hand as he took in the sight of the dragon. He tried to tell himself that the dragon deserved this, that the beast was a killer and it had been restrained to avoid any more bloodshed. But when looking at the sad creature before him, something that was probably gorgeous and proud once, he couldn’t bring himself to blame it. If it had killed the people, Izuku reasoned that it must have either been following its instinct to eat when hungry or it was trying to protect itself. He realized that he had allowed his hands to bring the knife down to his head, resting it there as he stood over the beast, thinking. He shook his head and raised the knife again, closing his eyes and leaning back to fling the knife down.

The dragon suddenly let out a pained whine. Izuku’s eyes flew open and he looked down at the dragon in shock. It sounded exactly like an injured puppy. His breathing sped up and he tried to raise the knife again, but he suddenly dropped it. He heard it clang against the stone behind him and Izuku had to force himself to keep from running away as fast as possible. He ran his hands through his hair and looked at the dragon in the eye once more. His hand flew up to his mouth and he couldn’t stop himself from falling backward a few steps as he looked into the creature’s eyes. The pupils were wide now so that the dragon looked almost cute and a single tear was trailing down its face. Conflicted feelings coursed through Izuku as he looked at the pitiful beast, he wanted to kill it or run away but the hero side of him also wanted to stay and help it. He stood and stared for a little while, allowing his eyes to rove over the dragon’s wounds before he finally made a decision. A decision, that he did not know would change his life forever.

Trying and failing to keep his hands steady, Izuku leaned down with the pocket knife and pressed it to the dragon’s side. The dragon let out another agonized whine before closing its eyes and tilting its head to a more comfortable position on the grass. Izuku took a deep breath and whispered to the dragon.

“Please don’t kill me.”

Then, with a swift jerk of his arm, Izuku sliced his knife through the thinner threads of the rope. The dragon’s eyes snapped open and it took everything in Izuku’s power to remain by its side and continue to cut the rope that was looped over its midnight black scales. He placed the knife against another rope and jerked his arm again, fighting against the tough material until it gave way to his actions. Finally, the last rope was cut and everything fell loose, slipping down the dragon’s legs and pooling on the meadow floor. Izuku put his hands up and flinched, his eyes closed as he waited for the dragon to pounce on him now that it was free. His whole body was shaking and his breathing was so fast-paced that he thought he might pass out. He waited, but no attack came. He opened his eyes just a crack to see that the dragon had shuffled its legs around so that it was able to tuck them underneath its chest but it had made no move to actually stand. Its back leg was still horribly twisted and the hooks from the rope were still lodged in the dragon’s chest and back. Izuku lowered his hands slowly and peered at the dragon. The dragon watched him as well with its lips pulled back into a slight snarl. Neither moved.

That was when the voice echoed loudly throughout the woods. The dragon sat up as high as it could without standing to peer over Izuku’s shoulder and Izuku jumped in surprise at the noise.

“Oh yes sir, it is over here!”

“You don’t think it is already gone?”

“It may have injured a lot of our men, but it was pretty tied up and it was wounded to the point of barely remaining conscious. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was out cold.”

“Let's hope so, that would make things so much easier.”

The voices started to get louder as their owners got closer to the clearing. They were laughing and joking loudly as they walked. Izuku wanted to be excited that help was on the way, but he couldn’t help feeling as if these people were not the right kind of help. The dragon beside him started trying to move, lifting its wings with a grimace and scrambling to get its legs underneath it. It only took a few more minutes for the men to break through the ring of trees and enter the clearing. Almost as if the men were poisonous, the dragon who had been struggling just moments before, landed on the ground with a sickening crunch. The beast just allowed itself to crash to the forest floor and laid there limply, like a dead dog.

The men stopped laughing and looked at Izuku, their smiles fading as they eyed him and the limp dragon beside him. Nobody spoke. Izuku wanted to stand or walk or at least move but his body refused to cooperate. He sat still, his knife hovering in the air over his leg, dripping with dragon’s blood onto his pant leg. The men looked from Izuku’s face to the bloody knife, their eyes widening and smoldering. Finally, one of the men took a step closer and cleared his throat.

“What is your name, boy?”

Izuku knew better than to answer with his real name and forced himself to quickly throw back the first name that came to mind.

“Tamaki Atari.”

“What are you doing here, Atari?”

Izuku gulped and slowly wiped the dragon’s blood from his knife onto his pant leg.

“I smelled a strong tang of blood and came to see if everyone was okay.” Izuku glanced around nervously. “I was shocked by what I found.”

The man looked back to his friend and dipped his head in a slight curt nod that Izuku almost missed.

“Of course you were, I am so sorry for what you have found here, that feral beast came and attacked our men out of the blue when we were camping. You must be troubled and scared, come on we can take you home.” The man held out his hand and smiled warmly at Izuku, so warmly that it was almost convincing enough to make him go to the man.

Almost.

“It’s alright, I can walk home myself,” Izuku said, forcing himself to his wobbly feet. He managed to steady himself and face the men but he never dropped the knife.

“No really, boy. We don’t want you getting hurt, do we?”

“I’m alright, I know my way home.” Izuku tried to steady his shaking hand but he couldn’t stop the little tremors from trailing up and down his arms.

“You need to come with us.” The man said, now dropping his warm persona to replace it with a cold demeanor, topped with a venomous grin.

“No, I can’t do that,” Izuku said, shaking his head.

“If you can kill a Night Fury then you can walk a little way with us.”

Izuku felt his jaw drop but he didn’t care. He could understand how they assessed the situation and connected the dots so that he seemed like a dragon killer but it surprised him nonetheless. He just couldn’t see how he, Izuku Midoriya, could be seen as someone to kill something as strong, powerful, and dangerous as a dragon. Even though he had buffed up a little bit with the training from All Might, he just couldn’t see himself as a dragon hunter.

“No, no, no, it's not what you think! I didn’t kill this dragon! I found it like this!”

“Why is your knife covered in blood then?”

“I used it to cut off the ropes.”

The men both sighed and looked at each other in furious annoyance.

“So you are one of those people, huh?”

“Those people?”

“The people who think that killing dragons is wrong and inhumane. The people who think that we should treat dragons like dogs and take care of them. Make a sanctuary for them.” The man’s face scrunched up with disgust. “It’s completely delusional.”

“I know nothing about dragons, I do not have an opinion,” Izuku said quickly. “I just saw a dragon that was mostly dead and I thought that I could do it a final service by just releasing its bonds. It was too weak to do anything but lay on the grass and bleed.”

The men looked at each other once more before turning back to Izuku, their eyes lit with a furious flame.

“First, you kill the one thing that would have made us the richest men on Earth, and then you lie to us with this dragon wellness bullshit.” The man speaking pulled out a long sword that Izuku had not noticed had been strapped on his back and hidden beneath his shabby cloak.

“DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH YOU HAVE COST US, BOY!?” The man suddenly screamed, running at Izuku with the sword held aloft.

“YOU THINK YOU ARE SUCH A HERO DON’T YOU? YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING!”

Izuku covered his face with his hands and flinched as the man bolted at him with a shocking speed that rivaled that of Iida’s speed. Izuku guessed that the man’s quirk was at work. Even if he had had full control of One for All there was no way he would have been able to dodge him. That is why when Izuku did not feel the sudden burn of the sword thrusting through him, he felt confused. He opened one eye tentatively and peered through his fingers, almost afraid of what he would see. His eyes widened in shock and it took everything he had to avoid tripping backward in surprise. Standing in front of him, holding the sword in its teeth was the dragon. Izuku was sure that the beast had been barely able to even lift its head let alone jump up and run in front of a flying sword. But here it was, snarling at the men while holding the sword in its mouth, the man’s arm still holding onto the hilt. He released the hilt of the sword with a choked gasp and scrambled away from the dragon with a laugh that sounded almost hysterical.

“So you are alive,” The man said with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. “I am so happy to see that.”

The dragon dropped the sword where it hit the soft earth with a wet squelch, landing in the mud and the blood that soaked the clearing. Everything was silent. Even the birds had gone quiet as the dragon and the men stared at each other. Then, quick as lightning, one of the men swung around and snatched a long iron whip from out of his bag. He held it aloft and allowed it to uncoil, pooling on the forest floor with a sound like pebbles rolling down a cliffside. The dragon let out a vicious snarl that seemed to shake the forest to its core and raised its broken wings, its teeth bared. Despite having his vision partly obscured by the large black wings of the dragon, he could still see the man with the whip. The man rattled the chain twice and clucked with his tongue.

At first, Izuku thought that the man was trying to subdue the dragon with those actions and noises but suddenly, about twenty men broke through the tree line and rushed into the clearing, weapons raised. A group of the men even brought out a large metal cage that was filled with spikes on all of the sides both inside and outside. Izuku froze, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t understand why this dragon was so valuable and yet so tortured. He didn’t understand why the most deadly creature on the planet was fighting to protect him. And he didn’t understand why he got involved. The only thing he did understand was his sense of justice as all of the hero lessons from All Might came flooding into his brain all at once. Izuku did not even think before pushing the dragon’s wing back and ducking underneath it. He did not think as he ignored the dragon’s warning growl at him and he did not think when he used his own body to cover the dragon. He faced away from the dragon and hovered his right hand over its panther-like head while his left hand hovered over its side, palms down. He held his head high and did not think as the quarry of men rushed both him and the dragon.

As the men got closer, Izuku leaned back so as to provide even more of his minimal protection, placing his right hand right on the dragon’s head above the eyes but below the ears. He felt the dragon’s surprisingly soft scales despite their strength and felt the little fin-like scales that ran up the length of the dragon’s face from just above the nostrils to a little way before the base of the ears. He felt the dragon’s mix of warm and cool scales, the strange mix of temperatures flooding into his fingertips like touching an ice cube doused in salt. That was when his hand suddenly flared with heat and pain. Izuku could not contain the scream that managed to rise out of his throat. He heard the dragon roar in pain and even though his brain started to go hazy with a mess of thoughts, one thing was clear:

He had done the right thing.

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kitahara-rei · 4 years

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Start of Something New

Based off the long, long headcanon I have of how Reiji and Ranmaru met and how they (kinda) got together.

This fic takes place during their Marriage/I'm Your Life photoshoot, a few years after QUARTET NIGHT was formed.

A mini collaboration project between my friend @pineappuu-pineappley and I, she drew bombass art for the fic!! Check it out below!!!! I sure hope I did the colouring some justice weeps- It took me a while to put it all together ;u;;; so much effort ajsdklasd

The link to the fic (with no art) on AO3 [here] or you can read it (and look at art!!) after the read more:

~~~~~

Beautiful. Everything that his eyes laid upon was a work of art. Marble pillars lined the long hallway, ascending up into an arch that melded together to form the high ceiling of the chapel. An array of golden flecks splattered across the ceiling shone like stars where the sunlight hit the painted dome, casting a shimmery glow in the air that seemed almost magical.

The sound of his footsteps reverberated around the empty hall with each step he took, reminding him how quiet it was without anyone else around. It had been bustling with so much activity earlier during their photoshoot with staff members at every corner, packing equipment and shouting instructions. All in all, it was a busy day and Reiji was glad to have some peace at last.

Golden hues from the setting sun painted the ground with the image of the stained glass in front of him, reminding him that night was soon to fall, and that he should be heading back soon with the others. But he didn't want to go back just yet. As he approached the altar, he reached out to touch the slab of cool marble, marveling at the inscriptions in a language he couldn't understand. He traced them with his finger, wondering what it all meant.

This chapel had been abandoned once, but their boss had it restored within a week to its current state of glory. The theme of marriage had been swimming around in his mind since the moment that it was proposed to them. Closing his eyes, he hummed the chorus of the song.

To stand here with his beloved, looking into their eyes as they exchanged vows, promising their everything to each other for eternity... Reiji couldn't picture that in his mind. There was too much baggage that he carried in his heart to let anyone else in, let alone think about marriage. A certain person's face floated up from the depths of his memory, and he wrenched his eyes open, falling back against the altar. He grabbed onto the cold surface to find his steady ground again, sucking in a shaky breath before letting the air out between gritted teeth. That could have been them once, but thanks to him, on this day ten years ago...

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore outside was faint, but it was piercingly loud in the silence. It was a bad idea, now that he thought about it, to wander off on his own. With nothing else to occupy his mind, the thoughts that he squashed down on a daily basis came crawling back out, gripping his very being, claiming him as their prisoner.

"Reiji?"

That one voice rang out clear in the chapel. He had heard it many times, be it on stage right next to him or in the dressing room, always in a low, gruff tone. Reiji turned his eyes onto the figure walking towards him, who had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress pants. He usually saw him in casual clothes (with the exception of their group costumes) but he had to admit, Ranmaru looked very good in a fitted white suit. The fabric hugged his figure well, accenting his broad shoulders and slim waistline, the pressed pants making his long legs seem longer. Their costume designer had done a great job this time round.

"I thought you went home, Ran-Ran," Reiji said, tucking his hair behind his ear. "You disappeared right after we ended."

Ranmaru stopped right in front of him, a couple steps down from where he was at the altar. Now that he had a closer look, his suit was wrinkled from sleep. "I took a nap here for a bit. Heard you walking 'round," he said, yawning. The look that he gave Reiji was tinged with sleepiness, which reminded him very much of a housecat. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to take a look at it all again. Shiny-san found such a treasure sitting by the seaside, I'm surprised that the locals didn't know about it." Reiji looked back up at the painted baby angels on the ceiling, which had a very remarkable features reminiscent of his Very Strange Boss. He was pretty sure that wasn't originally there. "There's something about a chapel that just brings about certain feelings, doesn't it?"

The other man let out a low hum. Reiji wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean. Silence fell between them.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Reiji asked.

"'Bout what?"

"Marriage." He caught Ranmaru glancing to the side, frowning deeply. "I guess it's still too early for you." Reiji laughed, leaning back against the altar. "Any girl would be lucky enough to marry you, but they have to get past all these spikes first," he teased, reaching out to tussle Ranmaru's unruly hair. It felt softer than it looked, despite the innumerous amounts of hair wax he used to keep it styled.

He almost flinched when Ranmaru grabbed his wrist in a firm hold out of nowhere. It was as if the air around him went still the moment Ranmaru's unusual eyes met his, and Reiji could almost feel the intensity of his gaze burning. "I haven't," Ranmaru admitted at last.

Reiji let out the breath he was holding, though he noticed that Ranmaru still hadn't let go of his hand. "Ah, I-I see," he said. "Well, like I said, it's still too early for-"

"But I have someone in mind."

The words cut through his own cleanly like a sharp knife. Reiji swallowed as he saw, no, felt his hand taken gently in Ranmaru's own, his breath catching in his throat when Ranmaru brought it up for a gentle kiss. The back of his hand burned hotly where the imprint of Ranmaru's lips had imparted upon it. The words that he never thought Ranmaru would ever say left his lips.

"Reiji," he said, softer than he had ever heard the man before. "Your smile brings so much warmth into my life. I am yours, so will you be mine?"

It was like a scene out of a classic romance movie, with the setting sun casting a golden glow upon Ranmaru's handsome features, catching gold in his silvery strands. Ranmaru was watching him carefully, waiting for his reply. He wasn't the type to joke around, as Reiji knew, and he had suspected the younger man had a growing crush upon him ever since that night he drunkenly confessed to liking him.

Reiji could admit to sneaking a glance now and again, but he had known Ranmaru as a troublesome kid who knew nothing of the idol world. He hadn't thought about him romantically before. In a way, he suspected he might have, but had been too afraid to pursue those feelings any further.

"I..." He was at a loss for words. His pulse must be skyrocketing right now from how loud his heart was beating in his ears. Every sound was drowned out except for his heartbeat and his short breaths. It was all too much for him; the thought alone that Ranmaru, who had seen him at his lowest, still harboured such feelings for him was staggering. A certain face that flashed into his mind made he pull his hand back. No, he just couldn't. His heart was barely held together with cheap tape made from false cheerfulness and it couldn't take much more.

"I'm sorry."

The last thing he saw was Ranmaru's shock before he booked it, running out the door. He felt like his heart was overflowing with all the overwhelming thoughts, the feelings, the pain from the past. His legs were taking him further and further away on the sand, the wind whipping past his face and into his hair. He didn't know where he was going; anywhere was fine, as long as he could escape from all the mess that was in his head.

A hand grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks, and he almost fell backwards. He struggled to get his arm free, prying at the strong grip that refused to let go. His hand was caught by the other and he looked up to see the pained look on Ranmaru's face.

Oh no, he did it again. No matter what he did, someone was going to get hurt.

"Let me go." He was surprised to find his voice as steady as it was, even though his hands were trembling. His eyes found themselves glued to the sandy ground, unable to bring himself to look up at Ranmaru.

"Reiji, please-"

"Let me go!"

The world lurched and he found himself in Ranmaru's embrace. No matter how much more he struggled, Ranmaru's grip on him was tight, as if the man was afraid of letting him go and carry out another disappearing act. Honestly, Reiji would have done that, just to avoid the entire resulting mess that was to come, the awkward silence and distance between the two and the eventuality of them drifting apart.

But the thought of Ranmaru going back to his distant self pained him, as if their time together meant nothing: the many nights shared under the influence of many beers in Ranmaru's dinky little apartment, the tender way that Ranmaru would stroke his hair as he slept, the way one look could tell him what was on Ranmaru's mind, the little things about the man that no one else seemed to pick up...

Reiji realised that he didn't want to lose all that too. The tears were flowing before he knew it, and he found himself crying into the shoulder in front of him, digging his fingers into Ranmaru's clothes, not wanting to let this man go.

"I'm scared, Ran-Ran. I'm scared that I can't give you the happiness you deserve. I'm scared I can't return the same feelings as you do, I'm-"

"I don't need all that. I just want you."

Ranmaru's hand moved to caress his cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears from his eyes. Reiji didn't know when, but when he opened his eyes, Ranmaru was there, his brows knitted into a frown. He was breathing hard and so was Reiji; Ranmaru must have run out after him right after he bolted.

He didn't deserve the man in front of him who deserved so much better. He deserved someone he could pour all his love into and get back so much more, a less difficult person to love. Someone that wasn't him.

"Reiji, look at me." How could such piercing eyes hold such a warm and soft gaze for him? His touch was so gentle. "I love you just the way you are. You don't need to give me your answer right now. My heart will always belong to you."

He felt his heart clench. Reiji wanted to do it, but he was too scared to take that first step and bungle it all up like he did before with Aine. But, he wanted Ranmaru so badly. Maybe this time, it would end well. He couldn't help the tiny, tiny glimmer of hope flickering within that maybe, he wouldn't screw it up this time. Maybe, he could be happy with Ranmaru.

The wind was loud in his ears, drowning out the sounds of ocean waves crashing against the shore. His breath was caught in his throat at how striking Ranmaru looked at this moment.

He closed the distance between them first. Reiji kissed him softly, carefully, a little hesitant. It was the barest touch of their lips but it sent his heart racing, and he drew back, wondering if what he did had been a good idea. Ranmaru's lips stole the rest of his thoughts and his breath away as they came for his own, sending his mind into a tizzy. And suddenly, Reiji found himself wanting more. Hands found themselves pulling him in closer, fingers were tangled in the mess that his hair was, anything to keep him within his hold. Ranmaru kissed him once, twice and again, and Reiji could barely catch his breath before being engulfed once more.

And then he was panting hard, his thoughts scattered across the beach like sand. Ranmaru was still holding onto him tightly, so close that he swore could hear the thrumming of his heartbeat. Or was that his own? Reiji didn't know.

"I... still don't know if this is what love is, but I want to give it a try. I want you so much, Ran-Ran." And there it was, the smile that sent his heart fluttering at the beginning.

"I'll wait for you until you're ready," Ranmaru said, touching his forehead to Reiji's. "I'll always be here for you."

Ranmaru's love for him was so warm, it filled up his heart close to exploding. The tears fell before he could blink them back, but this time, he was smiling through them, feeling a weight off his shoulders. "Thank you," he said, "for everything."

#utapri #uta no prince sama #kotobuki reiji #kurosaki ranmaru #ranrei #rei's fics #rei's art #friendo's art #long post #this took me a while because my hand hurted #and also like #I'M SO TIRED I CAN'T THINK PROPERLY #i hope yall likely

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serahsanguine · 5 years

Note

19MSR AU: Young and very sexy Mulder and Scully meet in a club. After a few drinks and some dancing, they have a quickie in the club bathroom.

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

Candy is dandy. But liquor is quicker.

Rating; Nc-17! Ao3

Notes; Dear Bethany Thank you for this prompt I hope I did it justice.

Other Notes; this story is set in England were the Legal drinking age is 18.

Mulder had just walked into club Spiral. The room smelled of alcohol and hormones, it was dark apart from the green illumination of the strobe lights flicking from corner to corner. He walked over the bar which sat in the far back of the room, it glowed red as the countertop and walls all spotted by that red neon bulb.

He sat down at the one and only empty barstool and ordered a Famous Grouse Whiskey on the rocks. It took a small sip feeling the burn of liquor flow down his throat. He had just finished his dissertation on the human mind of a serial killer and accepted a placement to go back to America to train as an FBI agent.

He sat there for a few hours as the music flowed and vibrated through every surface, people came and went around him. He was at least three drinks down and turned his head when he heard a fellow American voice against all the British accents. There was a beautiful woman next to him, she had fiery red hair and beautiful crystal blue eyes.

He sat there and studied her, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was wearing a black lace dress. It was elegant yet revealing at the same time. As if she knew his eyes were upon her, she turned her head and looked at him and smiled.

“Whiskey, is like a beautiful woman, it demands appreciation. You gaze first, then it’s time to drink.” her voice like liquid silk to his ears.

She took a moment to look down at the man sitting on a stool beside her, she noticed that he was wearing blue Levi jeans, black v neck t-shirt and what looked like Doc Martens boots.

“Who said that?” he asked, curious to her answer.

“A wise man,” she took the last sip of her drink before placing the empty glass back down at the bar.

“Care to dance?” she asked

He gulped down the last of his glass before taking her hand in his and leading her to the dance floor. For the first time, he noticed she was younger than he but more mature than she looks portrayed. She was also smaller than he was, even in her heels but that did not stop her from pressing her body against his. She snaked and slithered down his body grinding and bumping into him. The atmosphere electric and his hormones raging.

“I never asked for your name?”

“Dana,” she replied sultrily. “And yours?”

“Fox.”

She looked up at him as smiled, never questioning the name he gave her, She slipped her hand under his t-shirt feeling the tense muscles beneath her nimble touch. He inhaled sharply and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“If you carry on, I will not be responsible for my actions”

He felt her shiver but her hand did not move from under his t-shirt. She instead decided to ignore his warning and stretched out her fingers and found his nipples and pinching them before scraping her nails down his torso.

That sent him wild with desire. His eyes turned feral, dark and lustful.

“I warned you, I would not be held responsible for my actions.”

She giggled, he soon placed his hand around the back of her neck and crushed his mouth against hers. With their lips locked his tongue sought entrance to her mouth which she opened gladly. She tasted of the margarita she had earlier, he tasted of whiskey and rye.

Her hand entwining in his hair roughly pulling and tugging in a battle for who had the most desire and passion as a flood of desire pooled in between her legs. His hazel eyes opened to find her blue sapphire eyes staring back at him. She smiled seductively and took his hand in hers and lead them away from the dance floor and towards the exit.

They stopped short when she felt him kissing the crook of her neck, she turned back to face him in the dim light.

“I can’t wait,” she said simply.

She took him towards the club bathroom, entering first to check to see if it was clear. It seems luck was on their side as she tugged his hand to follow her inside. His mouth instantly found her again. They stayed like that for a few minutes then he lifted her placing her on the countertop between the two porcelain sinks. He proceeded to lift her skirt, bunching it around her hips. His fingers finding her moist and eager.

He moved his kisses from her lips to her neck his hand undoing her dress letting it fall around her stomach. He kissed and nibbled, the small growth of his beard scratching against her skin. He soon moved his mouth toward her breasts giving each one the love and attention they so rightfully deserved.

“Oh God it feels so good” she panted.

“I’m going to go down on you Dana,” he said in between kisses and stroking her over the thin material of her panties

She growled again at hearing him say those words and pictured his brown hair in between her legs.

“No” he looked confused, she moved her hand towards his belt “Enough foreplay, I want you in me now”

He took no more encouragement as he helped her undo the belt, his trousers and boxers dropping to the floor in a pile at his ankles.

She placed her hand around his girth stroking him up and down his length before spreading some of his precum on the tip and letting go. He grunted like an animal in heat.

One of his hands slid under her hip, bringing her to him and the other hand moved her panties out of the way. In one quick motion, he entered her deep depths.

“Oh, Christ you’re huge!”

He chuckled and pulled himself all the way out and plummeted back into her and held her there. He could not believe how tight she was, he could feel her muscles trying to adjust to the sudden onslaught of his girth and length.

“You’re so tight.”

She hummed, her heart beating faster than it ever had before, so much so she thought she might have a heart attack.

“Am I you’re first?” he asked sheepishly.

She laughed before simply answering “No” breathlessly.

He pulled back out of her and ploughed back in with such force. Her back arched, her nipples painfully erect scraping against his cotton t-shirt. She moaned in pleasure and pain.

With one hand on the countertop for balance, his other hand worked in between their bodies. He squeezed one of her swollen breasts and tweaked her nipple immediately feeling a response when she thrust her hips into his. He was holding back every ounce of control he had, trying to go as slow as possible, afraid he wouldn’t last long enough to make her climax. He wanted to feel her cum while he was still inside her.

He bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed as he thrust his cock deep inside her feeling his sensitive tip collide with her cervix. He was groaning, blinded by lust and the fact he had never felt such passion for another person.

“Oh, Dana you feel so good, so tight, so full”

His worries were unwarranted as he felt her walls clamp around him spasming out of control, her body rocking with its climax.

“Fox” she screamed, her voice mixing with the drum and bass of the clubs sound system.

He marvelled at his control. His body was sweating profusely but she felt great, energized and wild. He didn’t think he’d ever fucked anyone as hard as he was fucking Dana, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t take her gently. She was as little and tight, he’d almost lost control several times when he felt her hand smack and grab his backside.

As her spasming continued he cautiously started plunging back into her, but this time he was pausing between strokes and he could tell it was driving her crazy, but the flip side was it was holding his orgasm at bay.

She was grunting softly with his every stroke. “Uhg, uhg, uhg.” She panted harshly, whimpering with the need for another release. Her soft, strong hands were touching him everywhere she could reach which wasn’t much.

She forced herself to take a deep breath and shouted, “Pleeeeaassseee, FOX. Oh God, I HAVE TO COME! Please let me come. I can’t stand it anymore! Fuck me. HARD PLEASE!”

His head spun. Even in his wildest dreams, he had never experienced anyone begging him to fuck her like this. He felt euphoric and powerful and completely in control as he picked up the pace slightly. Their pelvises were crashing together. Skin again skin, bone against bone. He slid his hand down from her breast and down her stomach to in between their joined legs to find her over her swollen flesh, soon finding her clit, flicking and pinching it.

She shrieked, “Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh, ffffuuuuuccccckkkk!” Her orgasm tore through her with such force that she felt her consciousness might slip away. Her fingers clamped onto the back of his neck leaving small half-moon shapes in her wake.

He was rubbing her clitoris in hard jerking motions as he kept her impaled on his cock. Her walls milked him with everything she had. he utterly lost control when she felt him bite down on his bicep. He removed his hand from the joining bodies placing both his hands on the corner of the countertop thrusting his hips wildly into her, feeling her climax around him. His body locked up and released and she fell into him utterly exhausted quivering softly against him.

When they both came back to reality, he helped her do her dress back up making sure there was no evidence of their quick get together. They both left the bathroom each saying goodbye. She went off to find another woman who looked oddly a lot like her, and he wandered off to finally break up with the women that broke his heart.

The End.

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Tagging. @skullsmuldon @xfpornbattle @today-in-fic @foxystarbucks @baronessblixen @storybycorey @peacenik0

#the xfiles #xfiles #txf fanfic #TXF #mulder and scully #Fox Mulder #Dana Scully #pornbattle #AU fanfiction

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minyoonkeeks · 5 years

Text

Pairing:Jin x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: It was one thing to love him in secret, but when you think he might like you back it changes everything. (90% Fluff, 7% Angst, 3% I don't know what this is)

Warnings: None really, there is 1 mention of throwing up for like a second and a few mentioning anxiety but nothing serious

A/N: This is the first fic I've ever decided to write. I hope it resembles him a bit, but it was fun writing. I don't know if I'll continue either, I just hope I did Jin some justice (:

---

Becoming his friend always felt natural, kind of like mac meeting its cheese, or peanut butter finding its jelly. He was sweet, funny, goofy Seokjin. 2 years younger, but no one could ever tell the difference. He was smart, where it counted. He hated bugs, was extra competitive, and loved marvel as much as you. That made your friendship fun. You would chill in his apartment, play endless games of super smash, and compare recipes whenever you found something new you'd want to try. Because you came from different social groups, it seemed odd at first to your friends. They laughed when they couldn't picture it being real.

"No way _____! Do both of you just have pout monologues? Because I would hate to be in the middle of that blab fest!" Hobi joked as he pictures both of you endlessly going off on each other. You both have certain quirks and apparently over talking was one of them. The more you guys interacted when you were all together, the more your friends didn't believe it.

It wasn't until the first time you had all gone to the movies together as a group. Seokjin sat next to you and you could have sworn all the girls gave the biggest groan, making you turn beet red and Seokjin laugh awkwardly. But once all of your friends realised that's exactly what it was, a friendship, they were quick to stand up for it, because there wasn't anything more. Even when your girlfriends started noticing him.

Sometimes, a lot of times, being his friend was hard. He was a 10 everywhere he'd go, regardless of how nerdy he came off when he spoke. When he wore his dumb round glasses around his beautiful face girls would swoon saying that he looked like a lawyer. Sure, he'd never win with his dumb logic, you thought.

When he would have to attend a fancy dinner in slacks and the same blue button up with white stripes on the sleeve citing that it made him look longer even though you swore he was a whole nother you taller. "Look, you just have to go with me, no one else is fun, and they won't bug me if you go instead." He would insist, telling you his parents didn't mind if it was you going instead of another date. That would sting, you were never the date.

When he'd sit and play guitar to pass the time between picking you up from work and your coworkers would stare out the window and wonder when he would notice them. "How do you even function with him, ______? You clearly have the worst taste in guys if you don't find him attractive" one of them would say.

"Yeah, sure, if you think gumby limbs are attractive." You'd scoff back, even though deep down you knew he was. Those were the most annoying times. Being Kim Seokjin's friend was definitely not easy.

"Hey, hurry up, we'll miss the next screening of Thor and I don't want to miss the credits!" Jin yelled from the lobby, making everyone turn and glare at how loud he was being, at least until they saw his face and proceeded to gawk at him.

"I know, I know, nerd. I don't get how you can watch this for the 5th time in theaters. Like you have a huge TV at home, why rewatch it here?" You quipped grabbing the popcorn from the attendant who just glared at you for calling Jin something other than Worldwide Handsome.

"I already told you, there's nothing like rewatching it with people who get it. And you know you get it or else you wouldn't have come with me anyway" he teased, making that pout that makes your heart flutter a little too much.

Those were most days with Seokjin and sometimes you couldn't take the stares from everyone. The ones that said "Hey why is that short girl hanging out with Jin all the time? He looks like he's babysitting." "Isn't it her though? She's the delusional one, he's way too good to cut her off though, I bet it's pity." You would overhear. You get it. It wasn't ideal for some tall, gorgeous albeit weird man to be hanging out with you of all people, but Jin didn't care because you were friends... friends. That's it.

And yeah, it hurt sometimes, seeing him go on dates, or staying at his apartment when he would tell you to wait for him, even though he was out with a girl 10 times prettier, he always came back alone. Always came back to you.

You had become a confidante for him. Someone who knew a little more, but didn't judge no matter what he did. You were the cool friend, the one everyone could depend on to be there, the one everyone joked to Jin about when they'd tell him to go look after his noona, and you, being as awkward as you were, always played it off when you'd see the pink hue in his cheeks. It never crossed your mind to think any different of him until your regular movie night Wednesday.

You were binging Lord of the Rings on his couch, in your cookie monster pajamas left over from last time while you sat next to Jin, tired from working all day.

"I guess an office job can wear you out." He chuckled.

"Definitely in more ways than one. My brain can only take so much annoyance from everyone. I just need Aragorn to murder a few orcs and it'll make me feel 10 times better." You said yawning, while Jin just stared at the TV hands on his knees. He seemed out of it for some reason, but your day being as long as it had you didn't want to pry. Sometimes Jin liked silence, and this was definitely one of those times.

As you watched the elves on screen, bow and arrow shooting towards the dark, you started dozing off on a pillow placed near his lap. You could feel his fingertips rubbing your scalp the way you had mentioned your mom did when you had a hard time sleeping. You could hear him humming a song, your favorite, especially because he had written it for your birthday last year. Things like this made you wish sometimes that people wouldn't joke the way they do. That it wasn't weird for you to be friends, because Jin got you. He knew you were quiet some days, and extra loud others. He knew when you just needed someone to lean on, and you hoped that's what you were to him.

And there in the quiet, as you were almost asleep, you heard him. Three simple words.

"I love you."

It felt surreal and incredibly intimate. But even though you wanted to look up and tell him you loved him too, you froze. Eyes shut, breathing heavy, and panic setting in. You didn't know what to do. You can't tell if he just meant it as a friend. And if he did then you'd lose him, the one person to make you feel like you belong when you really didn't. He kept stroking your head and you told yourself it wasn't a big deal, that you would pretend to sleep, until sleep became real, and in the morning you'd leave just as friends, how it's always been.

When you wake up, you feel really uncomfortable, not being able to get anything out of your head. Over thinking as always, and if this was any other situation, Jin would be the first person you'd tell. But that obviously wasn't possible, so you got up and grabbed you things, said an awkward goodbye and left him cooking pancakes for the both of you.

"Are you sure you don't want any?" He yelled as you were already opening the door to get out of his apartment.

"No it's fine. I forgot I had a meeting to get to and I have to go change and get ready. I'll text you later." You yelled back, trying to sound casual, and not like you were on the verge of throwing up from the anxiety.

You texted him that night and told him you needed to focus on work, that you'd have to go to a few meetings after and you wouldn't be able to meet up. His demeanor never changed, it was always silly Seokjin, always calm,cool, And sweet Seokjin.

JIN: Hey, no worries you're fine. I have to go to a few dinners too, but since you'll be in meetings I'll have to take Hobi or Tae, they're the only ones that like these events anyway.

YOU: Thanks, you should take that girl that you took last time though or you'll end up old and alone. :P

JIN: Maybe, not sure. I'll text you later though, bye!

It was fine right? You would be fine. And he would go out and be his normal charming cool guy self. Just like always. You just needed a moment to get back into the friend zone. And although you'd just lay in bed and lie to him about where you were, you knew eventually you'd have to see him.

So the day came, well, he more so showed up at your apartment at two am and you couldn't really avoid him. When you opened the door, you don't look up, even though he towers over you.

"____ what's wrong?"

You can hear the hurt in his voice as he says your name, and yet, you know that if you look up he'll see right through you. So you stare at his feet.

"Nothing just tired from work. What's going on?" You mumble, trying to keep your composure as you look up as him for the first time. He sighs and looks away, scratching the back of his head, trying to figure out what to say next.

"What did I do? Are you mad? I just, I don't know why you're avoiding me, and you tell me everything. So I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong." He tells you quietly, as if he was reassuring himself to you. That your friendship meant more than just a few races of Mario Kart or a permanent plus one that he didn't have to explain more than just, "yeah, she's a friend." And everyone would just get it, no questions asked.

But suddenly you were in his arms, and you can smell the fresh cotton scent you've become so used to. You can feel his warmth when he presses into you and you can hear his heartbeat pounding into your ears.

It wasn't like you didn't miss him, you did, too much for a friend though. And how were you going to break it to him. That you, the one who's supposed to be the cool noona, who doesn't mind just being friends, was in too deep? How could you tell him so he just gives you time to be his friend again? Because losing him would be way worse than anything else thrown at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you wrap your arms around his torso in response to his sudden hug. It was second nature to do so, but this time it just felt like it was the last time and you wanted to hold on as long as possible. He brushed your hair with his fingers, and swayed side to side because he knew that made you smile. You took a deep breath, not realizing you had been holding it in since he had first leaned against you.

"It's ok, _______, hey I'm fine, you're fine, nothing's wrong. I know you need space sometimes, but I can't have you lying to me about where you are when we tell each other everything. I didn't mean to scare you. Hey, it's ok don't worry." He pats your head and holds you close realizing for the first time that you're crying. You clear your throat and back away from him wiping away your tears with your sweater paws, trying to regain a little sanity.

"I wasn't lying, I'm just ... tired." You tell him sounding coarse, more tired than you knew. "Work is overwhelming and I just needed some time to myself. You know me, I..."

"No, you don't,not from me anyway. You don't and I know because I know you _____, like the back of my hand I know you." Jin said, sounding louder than he meant to. Taking a step back and breathing once before continuing, "But, I get it. I'm not sure why, but I get that you need space from me." He looks down and sighs, making your heart break a little more each time. He pinches the bridge of his nose and you know it's his form of keeping a level head. He does it when he's mad, or worse, when he doesn't want you to see him cry.

He looks at you one more time and you can tell. He's tired, and his pleading look is something you thought you'd never be the cause of. But, what's worse? Leaving it here, or telling him the truth and watching him walk out, for real this time?

"Just... give me 2 more days. I just need 2 more days and I promise I'll come back. I just... I just need 2..." you stare at him, but with your own pleading look this time, you words soft and sad. For what, you don't know. Maybe the end, realizing, it might be the last time he visits you?

"Ok, ok _______. 2 days, but when you come back to me I want to know. I really do, whatever you give me. I'll accept it, just like you do to me. No judgement, no worries. But please, 2 days, come back." He grabs your hand and rubs along your wrist, a sign of affection he was used to giving you as he goes in for one more hug. This time he holds you a little tighter, maybe even a little longer, before he clears his throat, takes a deep breath and turns to walk to his car.

You stare at him going down the sidewalk and breathe, 2, 3. He's almost gone ______, and then you really need to get your shit together before you really lose him, you chide yourself silently.

Jin turns and waves, nodding once for goodbye while he smiles softly. His cheeks puff a little in the lamplight and you can see a glare. There was no way he was crying was there? You'd only seen him do it once when you dared him to eat your grandma's salsa that had a little too much jalapeño causing him to cry out in pain. The confused look you had, made him stop for a second before getting into his car and leaving towards his home.

Lying in bed, you kept twisting and turning, feeling way too hot to sleep and nothing could fix it. You walk to the kitchen and pull out some food, but it just gives you nausea thinking about what just happened so you settle for the milk and cereal.

Why'd you have to be so suspicious looking? Like you did something you weren't proud of? I mean, being in love with your best friend isn't a crime, it's just, not common, especially between you two. You went over the scenario in your head again, thinking about what you should have done differently so you wouldn't have to tell him the truth. You look at the cereal and look at the almost empty carton of milk before you grab a bowl and throw everything in trying to stuff your face and forget.

2 days, 2 days, to figure out how to tell Jin that you love him in a way that isn't the same anymore. And it's all his fault, his, and stupid Lord of the Rings, that you promised to never watch again if this didn't fix itself.

To say that you were productive in trying to figure out the best way to tell your best friend that you were in love with him was a complete over exaggeration. You lied in bed, eating snickers, listening to old Taylor Swift songs- that you hated, but Jin thought were cute, and cried into your pillow like a maniac. There were moments of clarity sure, where you'd write, or at least begin to write, Jin a letter of things you wanted to tell him. Maybe give him a pros and cons list of being your friend still, but you always came up short, Both literally and figuratively. It was frustrating because at the end of the day, Jin had everything. He had his best group of friends, he had girls fawning over him, he had a stable family, a bougie apartment, and a great job. All you offered were some really intense matches of Capcom VS Marvel, and we all know, Jungkook would be a much better opponent. But here you were, trying to figure out where you went wrong, why you had to take his confession in any other way than platonically, and therefore ruin your friendship.

Day 2 came by after a sleepless night. You called Jin and told him as cool as you could that you'd be at his house no later than 8, and to be ready with Captain America Winter Soldier because it was the best and he couldn't change your mind.

"Yes, I get it. Bucky is your dude, no need to rub it in. Don't forget though" his voice getting softer, "I miss you so hurry up"

"Yes I know, you can't live without me and life is unbearable because you have no one warm to cuddle to. Although, I should definitely charge for being your own personal teddy bear." You laugh, as calmly as you can, nerves on the other end running towards you throat to make you sound cringier than normal.

7 o'clock came and you got ready. Jeans and Jins sweatshirt, not that he would care. Most of them ended up in your house and consequently on you because you liked that his long arms made the perfect sweater paws. You put your hair up in a bun and you told yourself once more through the mirror, "Hey, it isn't the end, everything goes, and if he does too, you'll survive". You nodded to yourself and put the best fake smile you could as you walk towards your car and get in, driving to your version of the end of the world.

Jin opens the door and his eyes light up in the best possible way. You always admired that about him, his true emotions always on his sleeve, and today, you hoped that his eyes would stay like this even after your confession.

"You gonna let me in or do I have to shove my way through?" You smile as best you can, telling yourself, only a few more minutes until it's all over, just breathe, you'll be ok.

"Nah, you can fight me first!" he teased and went in for a hug. You inhaled his scent like it was the only oxygen you could ever need in life. It was odd, he didn't let go, and although you hated the thought of doing it first, you knew you had to, so you rubbed his back a second went in for the kill, tickling him in his ribs when he least expected it.

"Really!? Wait, no stop! STOP IT YOU WIN!!" He yells as he pulls you in for another hug, He breathes you in for a second, relaxing, "I really missed you. This was way too long, and I don't know how I survived without you" he sighed, his shoulders slouching into you, even when he could easily engulf your whole body in his large frame.

You blush pulling back and patting his arm in the friendliest of ways, "Back at you! Let's go watch Bucky be a beast!" Hoping that he didn't see you cringe to yourself as you said it.

What a dork, you murmur to yourself as you sit on his couch, knocking your shoes off one at a time. You sit cross legged on the sofa waiting for the movie to start before Jin turns off the screen.

"Hey" he says as he sits in front of you on the floor in the same exact way as you. You look at him, a sneer in your stare as you grab a pillow and throw it at his head. He chuckles as he turns away trying not to get hit. But as he turns back you can see the look in his eyes. It's the same one he had 2 nights ago, and it's the one you knew would come back today.

"Yeah, what's up" you tell him, tilting your head to the side,hoping he can just see the tension in your face and leave it alone.

He stares at you for a quick second, thoughts floating in his pupils about what move to make next.

He gets on both knees and gets close to your face, startling you frozen in front of him. You can feel him breathing on you, and you don't know why, but the sudden urge to cup his face with your hand comes out snd you're rubbing your thumb across his cheek.

He holds your hand within his and closes his eyes for a second, and you can feel him shaking slightly. Is he nervous? Does he think you'll leave him on purpose? I guess it's now or never.

"Jin, I.."

"I know, and if it makes you feel better, I do too."

"Lies, you don't even know what I'm going to say. Do you always have to win? I mean I try my hardest and it's not fair when your fingers are longer than ..." and his lips are on yours, effectively shutting you up from saying something even more stupid than you already had.

You look around the room, feeling like it's spinning, holding on for dear life to his sweater collar because if you let go you'd collapse.

You close your eyes and and scrunch your face trying to burn it into your memory. A kiss, that's all this is, but it's not. It's his kiss. It's dorky, nerdy, handsome, beautiful Jin's kiss and it's perfect, just like him.

You slowly wrap your hands around his neck as he breathes you in, turning slightly so you can be more comfortable and pulls back to smile at your dumbfounded face. You keep your eyes closed hoping it wasn't just a figment of your imagination before you hear him chuckle, his stupid Jin chuckle.

"What? Why are you laughing? Is this funny to you? How?! How rude" you aim to slap his arm, but he catches it and grabs you by the waist pulling you in for a hug.

"Don't ever do that again, you promise? It wasn't fun, and I don't know if I scared you when I told you I love you because I thought you were sleeping, but I really meant it." Jin kisses your collarbone as he nuzzles into your neck.

"I didn't know, I really didn't, but I'm glad I do now. This anxiety was killing me, and literally the only person I could tell was Tae and we all know how weird he gets when we talk about our feelings. I mean, remember that one time I-"

"Just, here, -" He places another kiss on your lips, then your cheeks, your nose, and your forehead, effectively making you mush. "At least now I know how to really shut you up when you start your monologues"

"Oh shut up and come here" you smile and you pull him up to the couch and snuggle with him under the blanket.

This was the one thing you didn't think would happen today, and although you lost maybe 10 years from the anxiety alone, it was definitely worth it, you tell yourself as you look at him while he's singing along to the marvel theme song.

That's my nerd, my Jin.

#seokjinnie #kim seokjin #seokjin #bts seokjin #seokjin imagine #seokjin x reader

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frightgothcar · 5 years

Text

Gayrea 51 Chapter 2: Not the weirdest thing I’ve heard this week.

Hey yall, thanks for the great feedback on chapter 1 of this fic, I’m super motivated and excited to write this for yall!! Thanks to everyone who’s encouraged me to work on this! It’s been a tough couple of weeks with me, so this chapter is a little late, but I hope you enjoy! (You can also read it on ao3 here)

Previous / Next

“Nice to meet ya, Wes. How about you go ahead and pull that lever so I can get out of this hell-hole.” Danny gestured to the control panel Wes was admiring earlier.

Wes’ hand drifted towards the lever, trembling ever so slightly. “Wait a minute,” He stopped and lowered his eyes at Danny, “How do I know you’re not just trying to trick me?”

Danny groaned and pressed his face up against the glass. “You have my word as a government experiment?” He fluttered his pure white eyelashes. “What, do you need a please too?”

“... Yes.”

“What?”

“I’ll only let you out if you say please.”

“Aw c’mon, that’s so stupid-”

“Or, I could just alert the guards right now.” He glanced at the control panel again before deciding on a large red button.

Danny snorted and raised an eyebrow, “You realize you’ll be in even worse trouble than I will if you do that.”

“You think I care if I die? Ha! Do you really want to squander your one chance at escape because you didn’t want to say please?”

Danny scowled then grinned, “Damn, Wes, I’m impressed. Alright. May I please be let out?”

Wes pulled down the lever before he had a chance to hesitate. All the lights in the hallway began flashing red. An alarm blared from the intercom. Danny reached through the glass, grabbed his arm and yanked him into a wall. Oh god, was this really how he was gonna go? Beaten to death by an alien? He held his breath and waited for the impact, but it never came. He cracked open an eye and realized they were outside. Danny grinned up at him.

“Surprise!” he exclaimed before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped against Wes’ chest.

“Oh, god what just happened?” Wes whispered to himself, his arms instinctively catching Danny and shifting his unconscious form into a bridal carry. The alarm was still blaring, it was only a matter of time before someone realized what was happening and took him out with a well-placed shot. Without giving the situation a second thought he took off, towards the gate. As he got closer to the front of the building he realized something seemed off. The previously endless rain of bullets had stopped, the noise replaced by the triumphant shouts of the mob. The gate was ripped off its hinges as more and more people flooded into the compound, destroying everything that stood in their way with sheer force.

It was almost beautiful, the chaos of it all. But Wes didn’t have time to admire the sight. He shifted Danny in his arms and began pushing through the mass of people, most of which made way after seeing what (or rather, who) he was carrying. He felt as though he was back in school almost, moving through the desert like pushing through droves of Freshman on his way to class. The crowd finally began to thin out, giving Wes enough space to break into a sprint. His mind was so focused on getting out of there he barely even reacted when he reached his truck, automatically unlocking the doors and settling Danny inside. His door wasn’t even shut all the way when he peeled away from his parking spot, weaving through parked cars and coolers to the main road. He barreled down the stretch of concrete, at least 20 miles over the speed limit. His only thought was to get as far away from there as possible.

Once he reached the freeway he began to calm down. He turned on the radio and fell into a sort of lull as he drove. His mind remained on autopilot, stopping to get gas once then driving through the night. Every once in awhile a memory of bloodsoaked hands or flashing lights would try to get through but he shut them out, instead focusing on the road and the static-y pop music blaring from the radio. A hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked to the side, almost veering off the side of the road. He pulled into the shoulder and glared at his passenger with bloodshot eyes.

“What?” He hissed.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked, his sarcastic demeanor was gone, replaced with genuine worry, “When did you last sleep?”

Wes shrugged and closed his eyes to shut out the rising sun, “Does it matter?”

“Well, duh. You look like shit and I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be driving if you’re… compromised.”

“What do you know, Alien?”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Clearly more than you, Human. Why don’t we take a break and then you can take us- Where are we going?”

Wes shrugged and dragged a hand across his face, “No fucking clue.”

Danny groaned, “Great. Out of all the people that could’ve busted me out it had to be you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He shot back.

“It means,” Danny propped his elbows up on the center console and stared into Wes’ eyes, “That you are fucking stupid! What kind of idiot breaks into a highly guarded government facility without a fucking plan?”

Danny collapsed back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out the window. The sun was just beginning to come up, sending a pale orange light across his face, emphasizing his cheekbones. It was almost enough to make Wes forget about the angry words he’d just said to him. Almost.

“Not very fucking grateful, are we?” He bit back, “ I saved your goddamn skin and I don’t even get a fucking thank you?”

“Considering you’re probably going to get us killed, no.”

“Great. Fucking great. Well then, what’s your brilliant plan, Mr. Smartass?”

Danny turned back to Wes and shrugged. All the anger drained from his face, leaving him with a more neutral expression. “I dunno, believe it or not, I’m not exactly an expert with the outside world.”

Wes sighed, “I suppose that makes sense… you’re right. I should get some sleep, I’m sure this whole situation will make more sense in the morning.”

“Afternoon.” Danny corrected.

“Huh?”

“Well, it’s already morning, so if you sleep the typical 8 hours, you’ll be waking up in the afternoon.”

“Pretty bold of you to assume I have a normal sleeping schedule. See you in the morning.” Wes reclined his seat and turned on his side, facing the door.

“So that's just it? You’re leaving me, a guy you met like 3 hours ago alone in your car for an undetermined amount of time with no guarantee that I’m not gonna just drive off without you?”

“That depends. Can you drive?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Cool. Try not to die without me, see you in the morning.” Wes began fake snoring obnoxiously loud, his eyes squeezed shut.

Danny rolled his eyes, making a mental note to get back at him for their whole exchange and looked out the window. It had been a while since he’d seen the sun, and he’d really forgotten how beautiful it was. The pictures online never really did it justice.

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

Wes woke to a knocking on his car window. A police officer stood on the other side of the glass. A scowl painted her face, her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, but if Wes had to guess he’d say they held the same disdain. He sat up his chair and rolled down the window.

“How can I help you, officer?” He said, anxiety twinging his voice.

“Are you aware that you’re parked illegally?” She looked him up and down, sizing him up.

“Um, well, uh-” He stuttered.

“Actually, Ma’am, our engine shorted out,” A voice came from behind him. Wes’ eyes went wide. Not only were they parked illegally, but he was harboring an alien prisoner. They were so screwed. “Me and my friend here were on our way to a cosplay contest and got a little lost. We’re waiting on triple-A, but they’re taking a while. W- William decided to take a little nap to keep his energy up while I waited on them.”

Danny handed the Officer Wes’ phone that he had somehow managed to not only steal but unlock in the short time Wes had been asleep. She lowered her glasses to the bridge of her nose and glanced at the screen.

“Everything seems to be in order,” She nodded begrudgingly, “Do you boys need a lift?”

“No thank you, Ma’am,” Danny smiled warmly, showing off a pair glistening pair of white fangs “We’ll be fine.”

They waited for the officer to get back into her patrol car, talk to her partner, then drive off before talking again.

“What the fuck was that?” Wes glared.

“Gee, thanks for saving our asses, Danny, you’re so brave and handsome-” Danny imitated Wes in a squeaky voice.

“Yeah, sure, thanks for almost getting us killed!”

“Oh, really, and you had a much better plan than me how?”

“I dunno! But you didn’t have to talk to her! You should’ve hid, I’m surprised she didn’t kill us! After what happened yesterday we have to be careful, there's probably a fucking SWAT team after you!” Wes shouted.

“As far as I’m concerned, there is no ‘us’.” Danny crossed his arms, “Plus they wouldn’t kill me. I’m too valuable. Maybe you, but not me.”

“How reassuring,” Wes said dryly.

“Now, let's get out of this godforsaken desert!” He commanded.

“It’s too fucking early for this.” Wes groaned and hit his head against the steering wheel with a soft thunk.

“Oh, no, you are NOT falling asleep on me again!” Danny scolded, “We are going to eat some food and then we’re gonna go our separate ways. Sound good to you?”

Wes nodded, slowly raising his head and starting the car. “But before we go anywhere, you’re gonna need a change of outfits, my friend.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” Danny asked.

Wes drove onto the freeway, “Other than looking like you just escaped space prison, nothing.”

“Well I don’t see how a costume change will make all of this,” he gestured to himself, “less suspicious, but by all means, try.”

“You really have no faith in me, huh?”

“Nope,” Danny said, popping the p.

Wes pulled into the next exit, stopping at a Shell station. The neon sign flickered, as if it was winking at them, warmly inviting whatever visitors happened to pass through the abandoned stretch of road. He climbed out of the cab of his truck and stretched, his bones cracking loudly. Danny followed suit, swinging open the passenger door and planting his bare feet on the hot pavement, then immediately yelping and retracting them, opting to instead float a few inches off the ground.

“What the fuck?” he murmured, staring at the ground.

“Oh, right, shoes. Add that to the list.” Wes remarked, reaching into the bed of his truck and pulling out a black duffel bag. He slung it over his shoulder and walked towards the small convince store. The glass door swung open with a cheery little jingle. Wes held open the door for Danny, placing his arm around his shoulders and gently pushing him so his feet touched the white tile floor.

“Humans don’t float,” he whispered.

Danny shifted uncomfortably, rising onto his tip-toes to regain some of the height he’d lost, “Fine.”

Much to Danny’s annoyance, Wes kept his arm around his shoulders as he guided him effortlessly past the lone employee, who clearly wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with the rather strange pair, and into the bathroom. Once the door was locked, he unceremoniously dropped his bag to the floor. He spent a few minutes scrubbing his hands and arms clean of the blood from the previous day off, which felt almost as good as a shower. Once he had dried himself off he knelt down to go through his clothes.

“I’m kinda broke, so you’ll have to borrow some of my clothes for now,” Wes said, unzipping his bag and pulling out a pair of wrinkled jeans for himself, pulling them over his shorts as he continued talking. “Though, baggy clothes might work better, considering the whole blue skin thing.”

He dug through the bag for a few seconds, then handed Danny a Black hoodie, blue jeans, and a pair of well-worn flipflops.

“I’m gonna give you some privacy, open the door when you’re done, okay?”

“Huh? What, why?” Danny asked as Wes reached for the door handle.

He turned back toward Danny, “Because you’re changing?”

“Oh, this is a cultural thing, got it.” Danny nodded, grinning like he knew a secret, “I was worried you didn’t want to see me naked there for a minute.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Wes slammed the door shut behind him, his face dusted with a soft pink blush. He didn’t have to wait long, not even 5 minutes had passed when the door cracked open. He walked into the bathroom, the door automatically locking behind him as it shut.

“Need any help?” he asked, trying his best not to stare at Danny’s bare legs. Apparently the jeans hadn’t been a good fit, hopefully, he was wearing underwear.

“This is stupid.” Danny groaned from under the hood of Wes’ oversized jacket. The garment covered him like a cloak, drooping around his shoulders and falling about to his knees. The heavy black material held a fairly unpleasant smell of Cheeto dust, sweat and an excessive amount of deodorant, as if someone had worn it for a few days without washing it. His antenna were tucked behind his ears, his eyes glowed softly under the hood. Even the way he walked was distinctly non-human, he almost glided across the ground, though a bit more clumsily than he had before in a pair of much too large dollar store flip flops. “Nobody is ever gonna buy this.”

Wes adjusted the hood to cover a bit more of Danny’s face, “Oh, trust me, if they’re as ignorant as the people in my hometown, nobody’ll bat an eyelash.”

He raised an eyebrow, “And if they aren’t?”

Wes shrugged, “That whole cosplay excuse was pretty smart, we could just use that again.” He paused for a minute, “Hey, come to think of it, how’d you even learn about cosplay? Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of Super Solider?”

“I wouldn’t say Super Solider, however flattering that is,” Danny’s eyes seemed to flash a tad brighter when he rolled them, “And, even though it’s none of your business, I have an internet connection. I know things.”

“Huh. Not the weirdest thing I’ve heard this week.” He shrugged. “So, uh, the pants didn’t fit?”

“I think this is as good as it gets. Wanna grab some breakfast?”

“Not until you put on pants.”

Danny huffed, not in the mood to argue, he grabbed the jeans off the floor and pulled them on roughly, one leg at a time. He was definitely not wearing underwear. He held them up around his hips to stop them from falling down.

“Ok, I can deal with this.” Wes thought out loud, digging through his bag and pulling out two long ratty shoelaces knotted together. “Alright, so if I just…”

He strung the dirty yellow chord through Danny’s belt loop, pulled it tight and tied it in a bow in front of his stomach. “Here, you can let go now.”

Danny released the faded blue denim, allowing the hoodie to cascade back down to it’s resting place right above his knees. The pants slid down to his hips, but didn’t sag any further. The pant legs ballooned over his feet, making him look vaguely like a toddler in footie pajamas. Wes squatted down and rolled the legs up to Danny’s ankles, leaving them still covering most of his feet, but not as much of a tripping hazard.

“That's about as good as it gets,” Wes said, standing up and looking Danny up and down. “Ready for some food? Actually... come to think of it, what do you eat, anyway?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I have pretty large canines, so maybe meat? I doubt nutrition sludge is very popular among the populace.”

“You’d be surprised,” Wes deadpanned, “Ok, I have…”

He dug through his pocket, depositing a five-dollar bill, two ones, and six pennies. “Oh, score! I think there’s a McDonalds around the corner, we can get whatever looks good to you, yeah?”

“Sounds fine,” Danny responded, pulling open the door to the single-stall bathroom and stepping back into the gas station convenience store. The attendant didn’t even glance up from her tabloid as the two of them walked out the door, only looking up once they’d left, catching a glimpse of Danny’s feet hovering about a half-inch over the parking lot.

Wes slung his bag into the back of the truck, got into his car, and put his key into the ignition.

“Shit!” He swore, “We’re almost out of gas. Shit!”

Danny’s stomach grumbled loudly, “Can’t it wait? I think my stomach is eating itself from the inside out.”

Wes groaned, but got back out of the car, locking it behind him and taking his duffel from the bed of the trunk. He opened the passenger door for Danny and led him across the street. He didn’t bother to look both ways, a bad habit picked up from growing up in the calm neighborhoods and safe streets of Amity Park.

Entering the McDonalds was like entering another dimension. Although the sun shone brightly outside, none filtered in through the large windows. The room was lit by yellow LED lights, the ones by the bathrooms flickering menacingly. A chill went down Wes’ spine. Something felt off about this place. Danny pranced inside, seemingly oblivious to the eerie atmosphere in the restaurant.

“What’s that smell?” Danny asked dreamily, following his nose up to the counter.

“Uh, food,” Wes answered, shaking his head to snap himself out of his trance. “Go ahead and order, I’m gonna go check something.”

Wes pressed the wadded up bills into Danny’s hand. Danny giggled like a toddler and began muttering to himself while studying the glowing menu above the counter. Wes followed, looking behind the counter suspiciously. Nobody was in the restaurant, the kitchen was completely empty. Actually, he walked towards one of the gaping windows and surveyed the parking lot. Nothing. The only car in sight was his red truck and what he assumed was the gas station attendant’s blue jeep.

“Hey, Danny,” Wes said, turning around, “I don’t think-”

Danny was sitting on one of the tables in the kitchen, scarfing down a hamburger. He paused mid-bite and looked at Wes.

“Whha?” His voice was muffled by the food, the action sent soggy morsels flying everywhere. Wes held up a finger, getting ready to tell Danny off when he decided, to hell with it. He had already broken the law once (or twice) today, what could a little food heist hurt? He vaulted over the counter and pulled another cheeseburger from where it had been abandoned. It seemed like the employees had left in a hurry, half-filled out orders sat in rows on the prep table. Some of them were still warm. Wes selected a two double cheeseburger meal and hoisted himself up on the table next to Danny, who had finished his burger and was starting on a large fry. He was eating it like it was all one thing, holding the wrapper and biting all the fries at once.

“Have at least a little class!” Wes said, grabbing Danny’s wrist, “What kind of sociopath eats fries like that?”

“Me,” Danny answered, spraying flecks of fry all over Wes’s face, “Now hand ‘em over, I’m hungry!”

“Not until you start acting normal!” Wes snorted, plucking one of Danny’s fries from the container and chomping down on it.

Danny made a screeching noise, not unlike an angry seagull and dove for the food. Despite only weighing somewhere in the low hundreds, Danny was crazy strong, easily pinning Wes to the floor and snatching his meal. He leaned into Wes’ face and hissed, showing off the chunks of food stuck in his teeth. He went back to sitting on the table, his legs crossed and one of his clawed hands clutching Wes’ burger. He stuck his tongue out as Wes got up, dusted himself off, and sat back down on the table, then took another bite of the fries. Wes stuck his tongue out in return and grabbed the second burger, wolfing it down in record time.

A siren shrieked in the distance, Wes flinched. “What the fuck is that?”

Danny shrugged as he ate a chicken nugget, “Who cares?”

Another bout of piercing sounds broke out, louder now.

“I dunno Danny, it sounds like it’s getting closer, I’m getting a bad feeling. Let’s go…” Wes began shoving food into a bag, resisting the urge to cover his ears with his hands.

An impossibly bright light pierced through the window, another siren began, right outside this time. Danny shoved another handful of chicken nuggets and grabbed Wes’ arm, pulling him towards the employee’s entrance. As they stepped back into the heat Danny’s form began to flicker, eventually turning entirely transparent. Wes decided not to ask questions, instead allowing the (invisible) hand to continue pulling him away from the restaurant, looping around about 20 black cars pulled in a circle around the McDonalds. His legs began to falter as he saw armed men climbing out of the cars, surrounding the building. One man began to shout into a megaphone. Wes’ blood rushed in his ears, his vision was blurring in fear. Danny might’ve been see-through, but there was no guarantee Wes would be getting out of this alive.

“C’mon, Wes, pick it up, do you want to die?” Danny hissed, yanking Wes’ wrist, forcing him to take another step.

“He’s not in there!” A voice sounded, “The tracker’s pointed over here!”

Wes froze. The man was pointing straight at him. He lifted his gun. It was at that moment he knew, he was going to die.

#danny phantom #fanfiction #writing #my writing #wes x danny #danny x wes #wes weston #tw guns #tw blood #ask to tag #gayrea 51 #romance #unidentified flying ship #slowburn-ish #im gay and important #pls reblog #pls comment #call me out if my writings bad

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songsaboutheroes · 6 years

Text

Good Morning Beautiful

(A/N: I got a lovely request for more Syverson fics. First of all, I love it when requests are sent to me. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Secondly, I can and will use any excuse I can to talk about or rather write about Syverson. This story is based on the request sent to me as well as the song “Good Morning Beautiful” by Steve Holy. I need to give credit where credit is due. The song is obviously not mine, the picture above is not mine, and although I desperately want him to be, Syverson is not mine. All rights go to their respective owners.)

Trigger warning: Implied smut, mentions of anxiety and a whole lot of fluff.

On the long drive back to his home, Captain Syverson had a whirlwind of thoughts going through his mind. How terrible airport coffee is, delayed flights being the biggest of all pains in his ass, how good it felt to be back in familiar territory, and how good it would feel to be back in your arms. It had been an agonizingly slow 12 months being away from each other. But all of that time had passed and there would be a reunion in the very near future.

As the taxi began winding down a very familiar pathway, the butterflies in his stomach began to flutter with each passing house. Every time he thought of your beautiful face there would be a spike in his heart rate. He always joked that you would be the death of him. Oh, but what a way to go. Truth be told, while he was overseas, the thought of not making it back was a reoccurring thought that passed his mind on a daily basis. Never being able to see your smile or hear your laughter again was the driving force that made him be sure, that come hell or high water he was coming back to you. The taxi pulled into the driveway and all of his anxiety had melted away.

He tipped the cab driver as he helped him with his small bit of luggage.

“Welcome home, son,” the old man said with a gentle smile.

Syverson thanked him in turn and all but sprinted to the front porch. He fumbled with his keys for a moment while trying to remain quiet. He couldn't ruin the surprise now. Eventually gaining entry to the house, taking a breath of relief the captain savored the scent of home. Apples and cinnamon. Dragging his luggage behind him, he made a beeline toward the bedroom. As he set his bags near the closet, he found only an empty bed. Making his way back down the corridor and into the living room is where he found you. Basking in the glow of the television light, asleep on the couch in one of his old t-shirts that had vanished under mysterious circumstances. His heart began to swell with love to the point Syverson was sure it would burst.

He ran a gentle hand down the side of your face before crouching down to the couch level. He loved watching his sleeping beauty. But, as beautiful as you looked, it was time for the surprise.

“Bug,” he whispered while nuzzling his nose against your cheek, “Bug...c’mon pretty girl, open your eyes.”

Sleep still had a strong hold on you as stirred and your body shifted to its side facing him.

“Baby..baby..” He began to pepper kisses on your forehead and cheek.

“C’mon little one.., you have a surprise waiting for you.”

When your eyelids finally fluttered open, they were greeted with a warm smile.

With sleep still heavily coating your voice you revealed “Oh no...I can’t handle these dreams anymore.”

Syverson was fairly certain that he could feel his heart rip at your confession. You closed your eyes in an effort for unconsciousness to claim you again when you heard: “With the way I look, you must be having nightmares.”

Opening your eyes again, you’re met with the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. Sitting up and placing a shaking hand against his whisker covered cheek you take in a shallow breath. This couldn’t be your subconscious playing another vile trick on you. Could it?

“Sy?”

“Hi, bug.”

He braced himself for the gentle attack that was to be expected. You were never one to hide your affections and 3 am was no exception. Throwing both arms around his neck, and legs around his waist, and lips pressed to his, Syverson was knocked unceremoniously to the ground. Thank God you had decided against hardwood flooring.

Breaking away from the kiss Syverson reveals “You know, I'd be lying if I said this wasn’t one of the welcome home greetings I was imagining.”

Typically you’d have a smart ass response but seeing as you were still in a state of shock all you can manage to say was “When did you get back?”

“I landed about an hour ago and rushed all the way back here.”

You needed a minute to take in the scene before you. A year's worth of love letters and short skype calls had done no justice in leading up to the moment that you found yourself in. Placing a stray hair behind your ear and running his thumb across your cheek, he wiped away a tear that had broken the barrier.

“You have absolutely no idea how much I missed you.” You confessed while leaning back down into a bruising kiss.

Breaking away for a mere second, Syverson reveals his own confession.

“Darlin’ I’m fairly certain I can match you in that department.”

Before any room for a rebuttal could be questioned you're met with another searing kiss. A year's worth of pent up love and affection had been building up to all of those kisses and gentle caresses. And while you were certain to have traces of beard burn the following day, you couldn’t seem to care.

After a few more lingering kisses here, while laying on the floor and using your fiancé as your personal space heater and pillow, there was one question that still remained.

“Babydoll, what were you doing sleeping on the couch?”

You hardly looked comfortable in the position that the Captain had found you in. When he usually got home from work, he’d find you hogging the blankets and his side of the bed.

“I just started to prefer sleeping here.”

“Why?”

“Because the bed stopped smelling like you. When that happened it seemed as though you were gone forever and I could--I couldn’t handle that.”

While retelling the origin story of your new found sleep space, tears had filled your eyes about the possibility of your soon to be husband not coming back home. Syerson gently pulled your head back down to his chest and shushed away the fears that your mind was trying to convince you were a reality.

“I promised you I’d come back and here I am. I’ll always keep my promises to you, bug.”

With your heart simultaneously feeling lighter and fuller than ever before, you rose to your feet and began collecting your pillow and blanket.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for the best night of sleep that I’ll have had in ages.”

Offering an outstretched hand, Syverson pulls himself to his feet with a coy smile.

“What are you thinking about?”

Shrugging his shoulders he responds with an apathetic, “Oh, nothing important.”

As it turns out, with one swift movement, Syverson had managed to throw you over one of his broad shoulders.

“Syverson!” you playfully swat at his backside.

“Ooh, bug! And here I thought you were tired.”

The short walk to the bedroom ended with you being unceremoniously plopped onto the bed.

“Well, I was, but then as it turns out, reality had become better than my dreams could ever hope to be. Truly, baby, my subconscious version of you doesn’t hold a candle to the real deal.”

With an embarrassed chuckle, Syverson finds solace in burying his face in your neck with soft kisses. “Hmm, flatterer.”

“Now, now, don’t be getting all bashful on me now.”

“Bashful? And when have you ever known me to be bashful?”

Now it was your turn to wear the coy smile “It has been quite an awfully long time, honey, I think you may have to prove how bold you can be.”

“I fully intend to.”

Not that the two of you could ever forget each other, there was an ample amount of time reconnecting. Beard burn be damned.

The following afternoon, Syverson had awoken to find himself in a bit of a predicament; the two of you were tangled up in the sheets and one another. Truly he couldn’t tell where you started and he ended. Not that he’d have it any other way. It was so nice to be home and in the arms of his love. With the sunlight gifting you with its rays, it depicted you as the angel he’d always thought you to be. Morning hair and all.

Raising from your slumber, you find yourself on the receiving end of such a love filled stare, it could knock a grown man to his knees. “You know, pictures last longer.”

‘Good morning to you too, beautiful. I don’t know that a camera would do you justice. Besides, remember what happened last time I took a picture of you?”

“Uhm that was your own fault for not keeping it in a safer place than your wallet.”

“I didn’t know it would fall out!”

“Neither did the poor private who picked up and returned it to you!”

Once upon a time ago, Syverson had taken a not so safe for work picture of the two of you. He’d said that he needed something to remind him of what he had waiting for him at home. Something that would light a fire under his ass so he could come home faster. Nothing in the picture would be depicted as overly explicit, but the implication of what had taken place previously was there. Similar to your position know. You were laying against the captain's chest with nothing but the sheet covering almost all of you except for the top of your breasts. A rather shy private had seen the captain drop his wallet. While the wallet had been retrieved immediately, a picture had slipped out of it’s home. Upon returning it, the private couldn’t find it in himself to look his superior in the eyes. A perfect snapshot, indeed. Syverson found the situation to be quite comical.

“‘Poor private’ my ass. Even when you’re not there you’re still gettin’ me into trouble. Besides which, he got to be on the better end of the stick. Gettin’ to see the most magnificent woman he will more than likely ever lay his eyes on.”

“And you call me the flatterer?”

After a few stolen kisses and nuzzling into each other, a question presented itself.

“Did you turn off the T.V. last night?”

#Feedback is welcome as always #BUT BE NICE #Captain Syverson #Captain Syverson oneshot #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill oneshot #he's gonna be the death of me #I swear

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ktarima · 6 years

Text

New Life: Chapter 1

Word Count : 2214

Rating : T (for mention of profanity)

Pairing : Julian x M!OC

Disclamier: All characters, settings and events are property of Pixelberry studios .

tag list: @choiceslife @griffinsbigdickenergy

Hey yall! Here's the next chapter of my fan fic ^.^ If you want to be tagged in the list, feel free to leave a comment. Enjoy!

Summary: Ben's first look of Berry High and meets a certain somebody that catches his eyes.Wow. First day of school and I’ve met the best principal I’ve ever seen. “Thank you Ms.Hughs. I hope I’ll enjoy my senior year here at Berry High.” I grin.

Principal Hughs pulls me into a quick hug. “Oh sweet pea, I promise you’ll enjoy every moment of your senior year here! Our students are so diverse and fun to talk to” She assures.

Wow okay, scratch that. Probably the friendliest principal I’ve met. “I’ll believe it, when I see it” I joke “I think my parents mentioned something about a tour of the school?”

She claps her hands. “Of course! Let's get started right away.”

“Principal Hughs!” A voice shouts from across the hallway.She quickly turns around to see who it was.

“Good afternoon there Isa. How can I help you?”

“ Vice Principal Isa” She turns to me “ You must be our new student.”

“Yes ma'am, I’m Ben Burton” From the way she spoke, I assume Isa was the more strict principal compared to Hughs.

“ I’ve got my eyes on you. Don’t cause any trouble.”

“ I won’t?” slightly alarmed.

“Back on subject, Principal Hughs. There has been yet another accident in the science classroom. I need you to come with me.” Isa states.

“I’ll be right there” She turns back to me “ Sorry, duty calls. I’ll have Maria give you the tour instead”

“No worries. I assure before Principal Hughs walks away.Someone remind me to not get on Vice Principal Isa’s bad side. I take the time to wander around the front lobby and admire all the photos plastered on the wall. Interesting choice of mascot… The Berry Tigers. I continue to wander until…

“Hi there. You must be the new student, Ben”

I turn around “Yep that…” I inhale sharply. For a moment, a faint memory of one of my closest friends renders in front of my eyes as I look at the girl standing in front of me.

The girl waves her hands in front of my face “Hello? We don’t have all day!”

I quickly shake my head and adjust my glasses. “That’s me. You must be Maria.”

She looks briefly at her watch. “We don’t have all day. Let’s get started with the tour.”

“Lead the way”

We proceed to walk down the various hallways as Maria quickly points out the different classrooms. I’m not gonna lie, I’m only paying half attention to what she says as I’m more distracted by her looks. Wearing a gray dress, she looked pretty unique with her tan skin, short black hair and a cute face.

… Am I sure I’m gay? I chuckle. Maybe its --

“So do you have any hobbies Ben?” Maria asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh yeah I have some.” I ponder for a bit “Mostly playing rpgs on my PS4… but I used to play sports and instruments when I was younger.”

“Did you now? Tell me more.” She asks, abit too excited.

“ Well… I swam on a team for about four years then tennis and taekwondo for another four years.” I could tell Maria was amazed. “As for fine arts, I played the clarinet in elementary then moved on to the violin.”

“Wow. You’re like the perfect student”

I laugh. “I’m hardly the perfect student.”

“Lucky for you, we have a lot of groups you can fit in with. We’ll wrap our tour with the extracurricular groups.”

We stop at a hallway with Fine arts sign above the door. We walk down the hall as I hear faint piano playing. I peek slightly through the door to hear better.

“Woah” I whisper to Maria. “That’s some excellent playing!” The person continues to play a happy piece. “ Do you know the guy?”

“That’s Aiden Zhou. One of our talented band members”

Aiden finishes the piece and I applaud loudly. “Beautiful!” He stiffens at the sudden applause and gets up from his piano chair.

“Hey there Maria, who’s the person?”

“Ben Burton, our newest student this quarter.” She quickly introduces.

I offer a handshake “Nice to meet you. I have got to say, the way you played the piano was so nice!”

Aiden blushes slightly. “O-oh… it was nothing.”

“As much as we want to chit chat Ben, we have to move on with our tour”

“Aww, okay. I’ll see you around Aiden” I wave goodbye as we head out of the fine arts hallway. Maria quickly shows me the computer lab; where the video game group meets up, art , cheerleading room.

My stomach growls as we’re walking toward the courtyard. “Oof I’m a bit hungry”

“There’s a good diner around here called the Golden Griddle. That place has the best burgers in town.”

We continue to converse and as we turn the corner

“Nice! I’ll go chec---”

Before I could finish, I faintly see a football coming towards me and Maria. I hold out my hands to catch the football, until I realize too late that the football was meant for the student backing towards us.

“I got it!” The student says. Not realizing we were behind him…

“Woah!”

The male student collides into me with some force and we’re both sent falling to the ground. Another student runs to us.

“Oof. Watch where you’re going!” I chastise as I get up.

“I’d say! That was really dangerous Caleb. You know better to throw a football around in school!”

“Sorry Maria. We were just heading out for practice” Caleb looks over to me “Oh, you must be Ben,the new guy!”

He offers a handshake. “Yep thats me. And you must be?” I look over to Caleb’s friend.HOLY FUCK. If my jaw didn’t drop to the floor, it should have. Caleb’s friend is hot! His face was perfect, along with his built physique; hidden by his gray jacket. I grimace slightly as it reminded way too much of Devin.

“ Sorry about that Ben. Didn’t see you there. I’m Julian.” I shake his hand.

“Nice to meet both of y’all.”

“Oh snap Julian, we have to go. Coach is waiting on us” They quickly apologize again before leaving.

We proceed to the last spot of the tour in front of a tiger statue. “And here we have our school mascot, Ollie the Tiger”

“Aww cute name” I joke. I examine the plaque beneath the statue and the message read,

“This school began as a bunch of empty plots of land and a promise to be open to everyone, A promise that ensured no matter who you were, or what you liked, you’d always be included. And together, we can accomplish anything.” What a heartwarming message.

“Wow.. that’s a deep message! I like it.”

“Yep. Ollie means alot to us” Maria looks at her watch. “I’ll have to get going. My next class is at 1:00. I hope you enjoyed the tour.”

“ Of course I did!” I beam “Thanks again for showing me around.”

“Oh one more question.”

“Hmm?”

“ Do you have any plays on going to Homecoming?”

“Uh…” Well that was a question out of left field. “Well…I don’t know. Do you want to be my date?”

Maria steps back in surprise “Are you seriously asking me to go to the dance with you? We just met.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You asked, so I gave you an answer.”

“I… I would never attend a dance with a stranger.”

I shrug. “For now , it’s just a maybe”

She scowls. “Great. So you’re another maybe. How am I supposed to plan a dance if everyone a this school might come to it?” She mumbles even more before exiting the courtyard.

I take a quick selfie with Ollie the Tiger before looking up the address to the Golden Griddle. Time for some lunch!

The drive to the place didn’t take long, about five minutes. I roll up to an empty parking spot and turn off the ignition. Based on the online reviews, the diner was a popular spot in town. “ Let's hope it lives up towards its hype.” I pull open the door and enter the diner. The diner is well decorated, giving off a vintage vibe. I choose a seat at the counter and briefly look at the menu.

An employee comes up to me. “ What can I get for you today?”

“Uh… I’ll get combo meal number 1 and a strawberry milkshake” I hand cash to the employee.

“Your order will be out soon.”

I kill time by playing some Dissidia Final Fantasy Opera Omnia on my phone. Five minutes later, my order appears before me.

I start to drool. “Wow… online pictures doesn’t do this justice” I set aside my phone before taking a bite into the juicy burger. “Hmmmmmm” This burger tastes so good! Probably the best one I’ve had in awhile. I take a sip of the milkshake and I had to take another bite of my burger to prevent myself from screaming of how good the milkshake tasted.

As I’m finishing up lunch, my phone rings. I wipe my hands before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Hey sweet pea. How are you doing?” My mom asks.

“Great! Just got finished with lunch. How’s everything on your side?”

“For once, smooth. The moving company came right on time and we have everything organized.”

“Cool. I’ll come home so I can get everything set up … at least in my room” I joke. “Oh wait, can you text me our home address? I forgot to ask before leaving this afternoon.”

“Sure Honey.”

“Thanks. See you soon.” I end the call before getting up. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Our pleasure. Please come again.”

I exit the diner and got into my car. “Well today has been a great day” I muse. I turn on some music before driving back home.

Bringing my car to a halt along the side of the house, I turn off the ignition and got out. I walk to the front door and rang the doorbell.

“Coming!” A voice shouts before opening the door. “Welcome back, sprout.”

We embrace for a small hug. “Hey there dad” I step into the house and slightly blown away by how everything was in place. “Woah. Y’all work quick! Looks like just home”

“Thanks. I did most of the work” He brags.” Oww!” I look across to my mom pinching his ear.

“Yep. Your dad did all the work. ”

I laugh “I’m certain he didn’t have any help from a certain someone.” I pat him on the back. “I’ll get started on my room.”

My dad laughs. “Good luck.”

I stride pass the living room and turn the corner. I stop at my door and open it to be greeted by four boxes in the middle of my room. I certainly did not pack that many boxes… I think.

“Mom! Dad! Did I really pack 4 boxes?” I shout back into the hallway.

“Yes! You did.” They shout back in unison

“I call bullshit” I mumble. I approach one of the boxes in the middle of the room. “ What could I possibly have packed before we mov-” I stop before realizing the contents of the box. The box contained gifts, awards, pictures, yearbooks from Bowie.

Who in their right mind would pack this ? … Probably me. I lament internally. I push aside the box and open the other three boxes to see what was inside of each one. Clothes, my book and trading card collection and my PS4. Alright this shouldn’t take too long. Thankfully, my room already had a closet and drawer built. I set aside the clothes into the closet; separating each item by category. I move to organize my book collection until the front door bell rings.

“I’ll get it” my mom shouts.

I faintly hear some greetings and continue on with my work.

“Honey! Ben! Come to the front door. Our next door neighbors would like to meet the both of you” She shouts.

I grin slightly. It’s one surprise after another. I head out from my room and to the front door. Poking my head from behind mom, we’re greeted to sight of a hispanic couple. I get from behind my mom and introduce myself to the couple. Remembering what little spanish I know…

“Buenos tardes señor y señora. My name is Ben Burton” I offer my hand. I couldn’t tell if they were surprised or impressed.

“Oh, you can speak spanish?” The man ask, taking my hand in a firm shake.

“Ah… a little bit” I confess.

My dad rolls his eyes. “Show off”

I shrug as I step aside.

“Hello there. My name is Lucas Burton. It’s nice to meet you.”

“ We heard we were getting new neighbors and just had to come over and introduce ourselves.”

The woman nods in agreement. “My name is Julia Ortega and my husband is David Castillo”

“Our soon should be coming over soon. Oh there he is. Hijo! Come introduce yourself to our new neighbors.” David beckons to his son.

I could not believe my eyes. “Wh--” I barely manage to whisper out. His son carefully steps in front of his parents.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr and Mrs. Burton. I’m Julian Cast-” His dark brown eyes meet mines.

“Julian?!”

“Ben?”

This has to be a dream

TBC

P.S: I may be going on a slight hiatus to focus on school ;-; sorry. Please look forward to the next chapter! ~

#Julian Castillo Highschool Story Fanfic

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whynotcallitvanda · 6 years

Text

A Question of Identity

Title: A Question of Identity

For: @concretegrrl

Rating: G

Word Count: 4370

Warnings: None

Summary: While on the run after the events of Civil War, Wanda begins to feel like she’s losing herself. Luckily, she has a wonderful boyfriend who can try to help her feel better. Written for the prompt “I would love a fic that focuses on Vision learning more about Wanda’s Sokovian/Romani heritage, either from Wanda or on his own. Bonus points for fluff!”

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16045862

Message for recipient: Hi, Kait! I loved the prompt, I thought it was so interesting and I really hope I did it justice. It was really fun to write, so thank you! I tried my best to do research, and based the food on Czech cuisine because in one of the movies Sokovia is shown to border the Czech Republic. I hope I get the fluff bonus points, and I hope you like it!

A Question of Identity

Vision tied off the end of Wanda’s braid and passed it over her shoulder to indicate that he was finished with it.

Wanda moved out of her spot between his legs and turned to face him on the bed, curling her feet under her. “Thanks, babe.” She pressed a kiss onto his lips, fingers worrying distractedly at the bleach-damaged ends of her hair.

“You are quite welcome.” Vision smiled at her, but Wanda wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead she was gazing pensively at one of the hotel room’s four large mirrors. She’d seemed preoccupied ever since she asked him to braid her hair, and at first, he hadn’t been sure, but now he thought he might know what was bothering her.

“Is everything alright, Wanda?” Vision asked, cocking his head to the side and studying her further.

“Yeah, why?” Wanda didn’t turn her head, but she did make eye contact with him in the mirror.

“You continue to seem . . . dissatisfied with your hair,” Vision said carefully.

Wanda snorted, shoving the unnaturally orange braid over her shoulder where she couldn’t play with it. “Nat said I’ll get used to the color.”

“It’s been six months.”

Wanda finally faced him, wearing that small, slightly-annoyed smile that she got whenever he pointed out any of her logical fallacies. “But I wasn’t a redhead for all of that time.”

That was true enough. She cycled between various shades of blonde and red—never anything too dark, nothing too close to her natural brown. He thought they were all beautiful, of course, but Wanda only got more and more frustrated with each new look.

“I miss my hair.” Wanda sighed. She’d gone back to staring at the mirror. “Maybe it’s vain, I don’t know, but I always loved my hair.” She chuckled a little. “When I was a girl, I wanted it to be so long. As long as I could grow it. Long, and dark, and curly, like my mother’s. Hers was beautiful—curlier than mine, and I’m probably remembering it longer than it actually was, but I thought she had more hair than I’d ever seen in my life.”

Vision felt his chest constrict at the thought of just how much she was sharing with him. She’d shared so much over the course of their relationship, but he always selfishly wanted to know more. “And your father? Was his similar?”

Wanda shook her head, blinking, and part of Vision felt guilty for her tears, but another part of him recognized that this was just the way she remembered, with small details and glistening eyes.

“No,” she answered finally. “Well, sort of. His was dark—we all had dark hair—me, my parents, Pietro when he didn’t dye it, even my grandparents from the pictures I remember. But my father’s wasn’t curly like—” her voice broke, signaling to Vision that this was enough, the conversation had gone too far.

He reached out, drew her into his arms, and held her. She cried quietly into his chest. The tears for her parents were usually silent, like these, tamed by years of hiding them from her ever-present twin. The ones for Pietro were wild and forceful and found her in the middle of the night, so strong that she’d wake the next morning more physically exhausted than the night before.

Vision had seen many kinds of Wanda’s tears, and he hated—hated, something he’d once thought himself incapable of—he hated them more than almost anything.

Wanda sniffed and sat up, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. Vision recognized this as well. It was her ‘get ahold of yourself’ face. He kissed her cheek.

She stood, facing the mirror once more, hands crossed over her chest. “I understand why dyeing it is necessary. I can’t look like me because I can’t be me, especially since we’re already taking a risk meeting like we do.” Wanda took a deep breath, waving one hand in a sweeping gesture. “I just miss feeling like myself.”

Vision reached forward and gently grabbed the arm that wasn’t pressed against her stomach. He took her hand, still unused to the feeling of her bare, ringless fingers. “Is there anything I can do to help in that regard?”

Wanda smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. “You’re doing it, Vizh. Being with you is about the only thing that keeps me from completely losing myself.”

Still, as Vision embarked on the long journey back to the United States the next day, he wished there was something more he could do for her.

Vision sat stock still, the way that unnerved most people with its inhumanness. He could’ve gone through the motions of breathing, shifting in his seat, blinking, and glancing around, but he was alone, here in Wanda’s old room, so there wasn’t anyone else to consider.

He usually tried to stay away from Wanda’s bedroom, both because he wished to ensure his connection to her remained as inconspicuous as possible, and because something about it felt oddly invasive. He could still hear the echoes of “Knock, Vizh!” and though he knew he no longer had to worry about walking in on her naked, being alone somewhere so intrinsically tied to Wanda without her knowledge or consent didn’t appeal to his sense of propriety.

Today, however, that essence of Wanda was exactly what he was trying to capture. He’d given a lot of thought to her feelings of losing herself and had come to the conclusion that he had to do something about it.

It was honestly no wonder Wanda was feeling frustrated. On the run like she was, she couldn’t look like herself, she couldn’t sound like herself, she couldn’t dress like herself, she couldn’t be herself. One’s identity is tied to one’s appearance, as Vision himself learned when he set about developing his human disguise.

But this wasn’t about him. It was about Wanda.

The first step, naturally, was to figure out exactly what made Wanda feel like herself. After that, he could attempt to integrate those elements into her fugitive life in a way that wouldn’t put her in danger.

Vision closed his eyes and thought about Wanda. He thought about her smile, her laugh, the many different looks in her eyes. He visualized her fingers dancing through the air, the light of her own scarlet power glinting off her rings. The way she hummed when she was preoccupied, and the slight furrowing of her brow whenever Mr. Stark said something obnoxious.

The way she talked of her home, of the years before the bomb, of her mother teaching her to cook and her father teaching her to dance, of Pietro impish pranks and her grandmother's pet cat.

The flash of scarlet in her eyes when she mentions the Sokovian civil war, or the communists, or the Nazis. How civil unrest stole her grandfather from her long before it took her parents. Living on the streets, stealing to survive, barely feeling any shame for it, and the shame she feels now, years later. The sad fondness that overtakes her whenever Pietro's overprotectiveness would come up, and the fierce anger at any implication that Sokovia wasn't worth the effort, that rebuilding it was a waste, that maybe this would teach that backward nation a lesson.

Wanda loved her country, despite everything, and ultimately, she'd given up everything for it. The struggle to make Sokovia a better place had taken her parents, her home, then her freedom, her humanity, and if that wasn't enough, it took her brother, too.

And she still loved her country, and she still saw it as part of her identity, inseparable from herself.

Vision opened his eyes.

He knew what he needed to do.

Vision walked the streets of Novi Grad, clad in his human disguise, doing his best to blend in. He hadn’t seen Novi Grad before Ultron, so he had no firsthand knowledge of the city as Wanda had known it, however before this trip he did as much researching as he could. He wanted to be able to recognize the differences as Wanda would see them, if she was ever able to come back here.

A part of him felt bad for coming without her. She occasionally spoke about bringing him, to show him a place from her childhood, only to remember that it had probably been destroyed along with everything else. Unfortunately, however, if he wanted to get the information he needed, a trip to Novi Grad was the only way, short of asking Wanda herself, which would of course ruin the surprise.

Vision headed away from the city center. According to his research, the best place to glimpse true Sokovian culture was on the outskirts of the city where the damage had been lighter. After the Ultron crisis, nations from all over the world had banded together to rebuild Sokovia, and so far, things were looking up for its citizens. They even had a budding tourist economy based around the battle with Ultron.

That was all well and good, but Vision wasn’t sure Wanda would appreciate a Tony Stark bobblehead that was likely made in China.

After only twenty minutes of walking, he found himself in a much more residential area. There was a bakery to his right, flanked by a brewery on one side and a pharmacy on the other. People were out and about—not as many as he’d seen in other part of the city, but enough to imply that this was a well-traveled area.

He supposed there was nothing else for it except to attempt to strike up a conversation with someone. That was why he was here, after all, but he was suddenly rather nervous.

He scanned the people he saw, deciding eventually to approach one of the men, aware that a strange, foreign man walking up to a woman on the street usually indicated sinister motives. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten someone.

“Excuse me, sir?” he said in accented Sokovian. He was capable of speaking the language perfectly, but for the part he was playing, he needed to seem like an outsider.

The man looked up, distrust evident in his eyes. It appeared that there really weren’t many visitors in this part of town. “Yes?”

“I was wondering about Sokovian culture,” Vision said as smoothly as he could in his accented voice. “Do you know where I could get that information?”

The man’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that kind of query. “That’s a broad topic.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Vision conceded.

“Are you a professor or something?” the man asked, still carefully appraising him.

“No, nothing like that.” Vision shook his head, belatedly realizing that would have been an excellent cover story. “See, my girlfriend is from Novi Grad, she had to move after the incident, and—” he explained the predicament, and exactly what he was trying to accomplish.

“Oh.” The man paused. “Huh. Well, I’d check out the bakery. Katinka, the girl who works there, she can tell you a lot, and if she can’t, then her grandmother will be able to.” He looked Vision up and down a final time. “Just don’t interfere with business, and I’m sure they will help you.”

Vision looked in the direction the man indicated. “Thank you very much, sir. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” The man walked off, shaking his head.

Vision entered the bakery hesitantly. He didn’t want to detract from business, but generally avoided buying or eating food, as a rule. The bakery was currently empty, however, so he didn’t feel quite as bad about taking up the woman’s time.

She was behind the counter, busy wrapping up various pastries and breads. “Can I help you?” she asked, glancing up.

Vision briefly explained his goals once again. The woman put down her parcels of food.

“Wow. That’s so sweet.” She smiled. “I’d be happy to help! My name is Katinka.”

“Victor,” Vision said smoothly, using the alias he’d adopted for visiting Wanda.

“Nice to meet you, Victor.” Katinka leaned in conspiringly. “I’m really not supposed to do this—my grandmother would kill me if she found out—but I can give you our family recipes, if you want.”

Vision nodded so enthusiastically he began to feel dizzy. “That would be wonderful!”

“Okay, well, the first thing you do is—” Katinka stopped. “Oh, do you need to write this down?”

“I will remember,” Vision said confidently.

Katinka looked skeptical, but didn’t argue with him. “All right. The first thing you do is . . .”

Vision did remember Katinka’s instructions. He remembered them in the same vivid detail that he remembered everything else that had ever happened to him. That wouldn’t be of any help to him, however, if the dough continued to be uncooperative.

He should’ve practiced.

After leaving Katinka’s bakery full of confidence and gratitude, he’d managed to track down the other people she’d suggested, her grandmother and uncle. They were all very helpful, and Vision had thought that everything was going wonderfully. The cabbage soup was simmering, he’d successfully fried the topinky bread (though he was concerned about the large amount of garlic Katinka had told him to use), and the schnitzel was far easier than he’d expected after Katinka’s grandmother’s demonstration.

The trouble came, however, when he tried to make the buchty for dessert. The sweet dumpling, as Katinka had explained, was usually filled with a fruit confit, but he hadn’t even gotten started on that yet, because the dough was just not working!

The consistency was all wrong. Perhaps it needed some more flour? Vision turned, grabbing the bag of flour with one hand, but his other hand was covered in sticky bits of dough. He tried to gently shake it off, and when that didn’t work, scraped his fingers on the edge of the bowl. It only occurred to him later that if he’d simply phased his hand and let the dough fall off, he could’ve avoided what happened next.

In his frustration with the dough, he involuntarily squeezed the open bag of flour in his other hand, causing a puff of the white powder to envelop his face. This in turn, surprised him so much that the bag slipped from his fingers and hit the ground, spilling flour all over the floor. Vision stood frozen in the mess, filled with the overwhelming urge to laugh at his misfortune. Before he could decide on the appropriate response, however, he heard the sounds of the front door opening.

Wanda was home.

"Vizh?" Wanda opened the door to her small Edinburgh apartment, trying to push down her budding excitement. "Is that you?" She knew it was him, she could sense his mind from blocks away, but he wasn't supposed to be here for another week.

"Wanda?" Vision's voice came from around the corner, and the slight panic in his mind made her pause in the door. "You're back earlier than—” He appeared in front of her, phasing through part of the wall. He took a deep breath like he was steading himself and smiled at her. "Hello.”

"Hi." Wanda held back a giggle and threw her arms around his neck. "What are you doing here?" she murmured into the fabric of his sweater. She pulled back, her brain finally registering the rest of his attire. "And why are you wearing an apron? Are you cooking?"

"I—well," Vision rubbed the back of his neck. "I was trying to—"

"To cook for me?" Wanda interrupted excitedly, beaming.

Vision nodded, looking down. "Certain things didn't work the way I anticipated, plus you arrived early, so—"

"Can I help?" Wanda interrupted again. "Or not, if you would rather this be one of those things you do for me by yourself."

"Your aid would be much appreciated."

Wanda grinned, throwing her arms around him again. "You're the best, you know that?"

"You’ve yet to see the kitchen," Vision deflected.

"What did you do to the kitchen?" Wanda pushed past him into the other room, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her.

She froze in the door, staring, her mouth falling open.

There was flour all over the place, the floor, the cabinets, the counter, plus a glob of some kind of dough on the wall that Vision had phased through. She figured that the mess was one of the things that Vision hadn't anticipated, but she barely noticed any of it. She was too caught up in what assaulted the rest of her senses.

Vision shifted uncomfortably, misinterpreting her silence. He stepped forward to pick up the bag of flour. "I apologize for the mess. I was—"

"What’s that smell, Vizh?" Wanda's shoulders were tense, and she knew Vision could see it, and she knew she should reassure him that she wasn't upset, but the scent of those spices and the sight of those ingredients were bringing tears to her eyes and the last thing she wanted was for him to think he made her cry when he was such a sweetheart for attempting to do this in the first place.

Vision clearly didn't know what to do, eyes flicking from Wanda to the kitchen and back again. “Uh, well, I made topinky, cabbage soup, and schnitzel. I was attempting buchty, but as you can see, that didn’t go according to plan.”

Wanda whirled around to face him, throwing herself in his arms for the third time. "I love you," she breathed, unable to come up with any other coherent thought. “I love you so much.”

Vision stiffened, arms still around Wanda, but there was no hesitation in his words. "I love you, too, Wanda."

Wanda kissed him, staying in his arms for as long as she could before she had to pull away. "Why—I mean, what made you decide to—" she waved her hand helplessly at the counter.

Vision looked uncomfortable again. "You seemed like you could use a taste of home."

Wanda smiled, tears pricking her eyes again. "Thank you, Vizh."

“Of course.”

Wanda examined Vision’s first batch of dough. “I hate to say it, babe, but this seems unsalvageable.”

Vision nodded. “I figured as much.” He crouched down and began sweeping the spilled flour into piles with his hands.

“You know that I can get all of that?” Wanda snapped her fingers, letting out a spark of red. “If you’d like.”

“Be my guest.” Vision stood, giving her a ‘go ahead’ gesture.

She smiled, setting down the bowl. This would be harder than most things she manipulated, but if she could extract a cloud of gas from a building, she could clean up a little flour.

A sweep of her hands and few flicks of her fingers, and delicate wisps of red were plucking at the grains of flour, gathering them together into a dust-cloud in the middle of the room. When she was sure she had it all, she sent it flying into the trash can, closing the lid with a satisfying clang.

Wanda turned to Vision, grinning. “Nothing to it.”

“It would appear not.” Vision smiled back at her, and then hesitated like there was something else he wanted to say.

“Yes?” Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was going to wait to give these to you,” Vision reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small bag. Wanda recognized it instantly, and her eyes widened. “I thought that there wouldn’t be any harm in rescuing a few of your belongings from the compound. These seemed small enough to go unnoticed.”

Wanda stumbled forward and took the bag from him, fingers trembling as she undid the drawstring and let the contents tumble into her hand. It was her rings, all of them, the ones she’d been wearing when she’d been arrested and the ones she’d left in her room. She put them on immediately, and then laughed, pulling them off again.

“Is everything all right?” Vision asked nervously.

“Yes, don’t worry.” Wanda pressed a kiss onto his lips. “I just can’t cook with all the rings on.”

“Oh, right.” Vision looked embarrassed, and Wanda giggled. He gestured to the ingredients on the counter. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely.”

Cooking was much more enjoyable when Wanda was there to help. It frustrated Vision no end that he couldn't seem to master it, but Wanda's assurances that even many humans are terrible cooks did somewhat mollify him. The food turned out delicious, according to Wanda. He declined to have any so that Wanda would have plenty of leftovers for the rest of the week, but she did make him try a taste of each dish, and he had to admit that the palate was unlike anything he’d tried before.

Vision dried the last of the dishes as Wanda arranged the leftovers in the fridge, humming to herself. Vision figured this was as good a time as any to bring up the next item on his agenda.

"Wanda?"

"Hmm?" Her head was still in the tiny fridge, shoving things around.

"What song is that? You hum it often."

"Oh." Wanda straightened, letting the fridge door swing shut. "Uh, just something my dad used to listen to. An old Sokovian folk song. I don't really remember the words."

"Would you like to hear it?" Vision asked, producing a small CD player from where he’d stashed it in the cabinet.

"What?" Wanda cocked her head to the side. "There's no way that you—"

Vision pressed play.

The familiar melody filled the air. Vision was impressed at how well Wanda had been reproducing it after all these years.

She was silent while the song played, but she didn't try to stop the tears from falling this time.

Vision paused the CD before the next track could play, the anxious knot in his stomach now a familiar sensation.

"How did you do that?" Wanda breathed, "Where did you—"

"There was an old street performer in Novi Grad. He claimed to play nearly forgotten music, so I asked him about the song you always sing. It took some time, but he finally figured out which one I meant. He made a CD with that song, and others he thought you might know, and—" Vision reached into the cabinet again, fumbling slightly. Wanda twirled her fingers, and took the CD player from him with a few curls of scarlet, freeing his hands. "And he wrote down the sheet music, so you can learn to play them, if you want. I would have gotten you an instrument—I know you used to play guitar—but I wasn't sure what would be the most appropriate—"

"Vizh." Wanda said quietly, still balancing the CD player with her powers. "I'm so confused. Why did—How—When did you go to Novi Grad?”

The frustration in her voice and the tears still lingering on her face made Vision rapidly rethink his plan. Unfortunately, it was far too late to turn back now.

"Well, I guess—" He stumbled over the words. "Can we go sit down, and I'll explain?"

Wanda nodded, pulling the CD player towards her and cradling it to her chest as she followed him to the couch.

Vision waited until she was sitting comfortably with her feet curled under her, facing him. She was still clutching the CD player, but Vision took that as a good sign. He templed his fingers in his lap, staring down at them.

"I guess the simplest explanation is that I wanted you to know that you didn't have to completely give up your identity—whether that's your culture, or your personality, or anything else about you—just because you're a fugitive. You can still interact with all of these aspects that make you feel like yourself," Vision explained quietly. “So, I took a trip to Novi Grad to see if I could find something to help you feel better. I met a very nice woman who taught me to bake. Her grandmother taught me to cook, and her uncle was the street performer I mentioned.”

Wanda let out a breath. "Vizh, that's—I—" She broke off helplessly, holding out a hand towards his head. "Can I—?”

"Of course." Vision leaned closer, always welcoming a stronger connection with her, especially when she was articulating complicated emotions.

A few drops of red crossed the distance between her fingertips and his forehead, and then he was hit with a wave of warmth, and love, and gratitude, and just a hint of unworthiness, all jumbled together with confusion that anyone would go to all this trouble for her.

"It's not silly," Vision said immediately, picking up on the errant thought that she had been making a fuss over nothing. "There's nothing silly or inconsequential about your feelings, Wanda." He could tell she didn't quite believe him, or thought he didn't quite understand what she meant, so he persisted. "You think that your feelings of losing your identity were unfounded and ridiculous, and that's simply not the case."

Wanda shrugged, looking away. "I guess, but they certainly weren't worth all this."

"Of course they were," Vision insisted, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his lips. "Darling, you're the one who's always telling me that my feelings are valid, no matter what they are, and I want to show you that yours are as well."

Wanda was crying again. She pulled one of her hands back to swipe at her cheeks, and Vision reached out to cradle her face between his hands, wiping the tears away for her. "I apologize if this was too much. I don't think I've quite got the hang of what is an appropriate gesture. I just want you to know that—as you always tell me—whatever you're feeling is important to me. I want to do what I can to make you happy. Always."

Wanda bit her lip, nodding, and then pulled him close for a kiss. She didn't have the words to thank him, but she made sure that, through both her thoughts and her kisses, Vision knew exactly what he meant to her.

#sve2018 #scarletvisionexchange2018 #Scarlet Vision #fanfiction #my writing #Wanda Maximoff #Vision

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ohmyjinkies · 7 years

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Beauty and the Beast - Richonne Modern Day AU

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart. ~Helen Keller

“Ex-Yankees starting pitcher, Rick Grimes was never a vain man. Still, a near-fatal accident left him with enough scars to make him want to hide away from the world. Now the only beauty left in his blemished llife are his two grown kids, his weekly Sunday dinners with his daughter Judith and his beloved flower garden. Scarred, body and mind, he could not see beauty outside of those three treasured things. For 23-year-old Judith Grimes, life was finally falling into place. Freshly graduated from journalism school and armed with a passion for fashion, she’s landed a coveted internship at the powerhouse fashion magazine, Rive. As assistant to the New York City’s most powerful and iconic editor-in-chief, Michonne Dumas, Judith is living her dreams and learning at the feet of a legend. A global fashion tastemaker, former model turned magazine editor, Michonne Dumas had heard the word "beautiful” thrown around so liberally that it had started to lose its meaning. Ironically though, she knew as the originator of the coveted “Dumas Look”, she had created the unattainable fashion ideal of perfection that drove her and the whole industry. Secretly, however, she had begun to despair that she was becoming numb to all things physically beautiful. That is, until she notices the lovely flowers her new junior assistant has on her desk every week. Fresh blooms from Judith’s father’s garden, the bouquets continually seem to brighten Michonne’s day. Before long, those delicate blooms from the amateur horticulturist become a welcome daily reprieve from her relentless pursuit of physical perfection. And when Michonne finally meets Judith’s mysterious father Rick at the company’s charity ballgame, as the young woman hoped, sparks do indeed fly. Though, to Judith’s chagrin, not the romantic kind. Yet, it is from that very first encounter that they both begin to learn —things of true beauty can also be things which are deemed imperfect.“

Tale as old as time…

Rick was already missing his garden. The sky was blue and cloudless. The sun was bright, but there was no humidity in the atmosphere. It was the perfect day for puttering around with his flowers. But he had promised his daughter, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.

He was thankful that the baseball cap fit low enough on his head to cast shadows around his face. The throwing gloves he wore hid the patchwork, Frankenstein-esque scars on his hands. He could no longer run even a mile, but physical therapy made it possible for his limp to be hardly noticeable. Although, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep up with the fast strides of his daughter.

He held on to her forearm. “Judy, you know your dad’s an old man. Slow down some.”

People were milling around all over. He felt his chest tightening and his breaths coming out faster. He’d adapted to his solitude over the years, only welcoming the company of his children. Crowds of people made him nervous now.

Judy tossed her head back to look at her father. The bouncing curls of her chic bob haircut matched his greying curls perfectly. Always attuned to him, she recognized the apprehension in his eyes. She squeezed his hand, but didn’t slow down.

“Daddy, I wish you would stop calling yourself an old man. You’re not even fifty yet.”

Rick shrugged. “Forty-five is pretty near fifty.”

“You have to wait at least twenty more years to collect Social Security, so you’re not old.”

“My knees beg to differ. Why are we walking so fast? There’s still an hour until the game starts.”

“I know, but I want to make sure I’m not late in case I’m needed to help with any last minute details.”

“It’s just a charity baseball game. Should go smoothly. You worry all the time like your mother used to.”

She shot him a sad smile. “That’s what Grandma always says too. Guess it’s in my DNA. I just want to make a good impression. Show Michonne she can trust me with the details. She’s so great. I don’t want to let her down.”

“Michonne is your boss, right? Calling bosses by their first names in the office is a thang now? Back in my day—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Judith cut him off. “Back in your day you rode cows to school. Grew your own wheat or whatever. I know Daddy. Maybe you really are an old man.”

Rick chuckled. “Actually, your uncle Hershel grew vegetables, not wheat on his farm.”

“What I said still applies, old man.” She pointed to a woman whose back was to them. Her locs were long and reached down past the middle of her back “There she is. Let me introduce you. And please be nice and personable, Daddy.”

Rick smirked. “Aren’t I always?”

Judith laughed and rolled her eyes. “Nope.”

His smirk faded as they walked closer. Having new people in his orbit unsettled him. He tried to pull his cap further down, but it wouldn’t budge.

Michonne turned around as she heard footsteps approaching her. Rick had seen her pictures in the fashion magazines Judith used to read as a teen. He always passively admired her beauty, but he didn’t expect the radiant women before him. She was dressed down in a custom baseball jersey with her magazine’s name written in gold letters on the front. Her black shorts showed off her shapely legs. Her smile was warm and sincere as she immediately pulled Judith into a hug. She smiled at him over his daughter’s shoulder. He looked down at his shoes as a wave of insecurity washed over him

Judith, not picking up on her father’s reluctance for once, pulled him in closer. “Michonne, this is my Dad, Rick Grimes.”

Michonne’s smiled widened making her even more beautiful than Rick first thought.

“Ah,” she said. “So this is the doting father who makes sure his daughter always has beautiful, fresh flowers on her desk. Very nice to finally meet you, Rick.” She held out her hand to shake.

He clasped her hand. He could feel the smoothness even through his gloves. “Nice to meet you too, ma’am.”

Michonne chuckled. “I missed that southern charm. Don’t get much of that here in New York.”

“Michonne is originally from Georgia too, Daddy. Atlanta, not a small town like you.”

“Yes, born and raised,” Michonne said. “I still get homesick for sweet tea, and my aunt’s sweet potato pie.” She pulled the young woman aside. “Judith, could you go help Sasha and Jackie with setting up the magazine display near the entrance?”

“Of course Michonne.” She kissed Rick on the cheek. “I’ll be right back, Daddy.”

He watched her rush off wondering when his little girl became a grown and responsible adult. He turned back to Michonne, who was still smiling at him. His nervous tick was to run his hands through his hair. He felt the urge to at that moment, but he thought better of removing his cap.

“So,” She took a step closer to him. “I didn’t put two and two together when Judith told me her father’s name was Rick Grimes. You’re the same Grimes that played for the Braves and the Yankees, right?”

Rick looked down as if he was almost embarrassed at her knowing who he was. “Yeah. That was me. Didn’t think anyone in the fashion industry would recognize an old baseball player.”

Michonne gestured her hand around the baseball field where they were standing. “Well, we are at a charity baseball game. Beside lots of fashion models date baseball players.” She whispered as if conspiring with him. “It’s a bit of a thing.”

Rick laughed. “That is true. Many of my teammates dated models. And playmates.”

Michonne chuckled. “I bet.” She tossed one of her long locs behind her shoulder. “Besides that, my own father was a huge Braves fan. I used to watch the games with him. David Justice was his favorite player, but you came a close second. He hated when you left and signed with the Yankees.”

“I almost regretted it. I missed home a lot when I moved up here with the kids. Though I did miss David most of all. He was my favorite too.”

Her smile radiated even more. “So you and my father will have lots to talk about if you ever meet.”

He nodded and laughed. “Yeah, our very own David Justice fan club.”

Her voice lowered a couple of octaves as she tilted her head to the side. “I remember reading about your accident, and saying a few prayers for your recovery.”

Rick nodded. “I appreciate that. God was looking out for me that day. My kids didn’t need to endure the cruelty of losing both of their parents.”

“Judith talks about her mom sometimes. She and her brother were both pretty young when you lost her, I remember her saying.”

“Yeah. Judith was barely out of diapers, and my son, Carl, was in the first grade.”

“Had to be tough to continue your baseball career, and raise two kids.”

“It was. Very grateful for my mom though. Couldn’t have done it without her.”

“I know all about the miracle of grandmothers. My mom died when I was young also. Spent so much precious time with my Granny. Judith and I have bonded over some shared experiences. She’s a great kid.”

He smiled. “I always thought so too, even if I’m kinda biased.”

“The best dads always are.” She clapped her hands together. “So, the game will be starting soon. I know you’re an all-star, future hall of famer, but I was known to hit a few home runs in pick-up softball when I was a kid. So don’t think you’re going to strike me out.”

Almost feeling like his old, cocky self when it came to his baseball skills, he crossed his armsover his chest and smirked at her. “Is that right?”

She winked at him. “All I’m saying is watch yourself.”

A woman with a short afro came up to Michonne and whispered in her ear. She nodded and told the woman she would be right there.

“Editor-in-chief duties call, but I’ll see you on the mound, Rick Grimes.” He smiled a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in years at anyone other than his children. “Can’t wait.” (” The First Meet“ - Flash Fic written by @blacklitchick )

I want to say a HUGE Thank you! to my two collaborators @blacklitchick and @iminyjo <3. The both of you have been amazing during this project’s lengthy journey ;) -xo OMJ.

#richonne #au!series #omj #*mine #Beauty and the Beast - Richonne Modern Day AU #this is not a fic #just a fun what if plot project #please don't ask me to write it because I can't write - period

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

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Ten Minutes Ago

A/N: Reader requested EF AU oneshot set to one of my favorite songs, ‘Ten Minutes Ago’ from Rodger’s and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. In essence I have made a Cinderella-like fic and placed it in the setting of a royal Christmas ball. Because honestly, why not throw more holiday spirit into everything? In this I am also writing what I believe may be a first for me – Killian is the prince and Emma is the Cinderella figure. This is a sweet, short slice of what could have been a full multi-chapter AU. But until I find the time to write that up, I thank my lovely reader who suggested it and I hope you all enjoy! This chapter, and the rest of the mixtape collection, available on FF Here.

Watching the snow covered world pass by from the window of this horse drawn carriage, Emma Swan couldn’t help but feel like this was all a dream.

Not that anyone could blame her really. After all, fairy godmothers and magic were supposed to be just the making of childhood stories, but tonight that had been proven incorrect. One moment Emma had been barely holding it together, saddened and dejected by the cruelty of her situation. Usually she could bare it to some degree, holding onto to the belief that if she was good and kind and brave, someday things would be different. But on this Christmas Eve, when every eligible maiden was invited to King Liam’s winter ball, Emma felt like all that faith in something better was for nothing. She was trapped in the tiny corner of hell where she’d been living for years, locked in her attic room with no way out, no finery befitting the evening, and no hope that she’d even have a way of getting to the castle if she was freed from this cage.

But then magic made real had flown into the picture, and she was dressed in a sparkling gown of green that shimmered and sparkled in a hue all its own. Tinkerbelle, her name had been, and from the moment Tink arrived at Emma’s window tonight, the tiny, dimming light of hope Emma had been clinging onto for all these wretched years sparked a little bit brighter. She was smiling again, and doing everything in her power to enjoy this one night. For that was all it could ever be… one perfect night to change her life, if only for a moment. Because when the clock struck midnight she’d go back to the life she had before and that would be that. The magic would fade away and she’d return to the girl she was, simple and ordinary and inconsequential.

Emma shook the thought away, promising herself that such thoughts were over. She would not waste a second of this precious Christmas gift with sadness or regret. Instead she’d savor every part of tonight, from the majesty of her mice turned to horses leading the charge through the freshly fallen snow, to the way the castle looked so picturesquely beautiful as they pulled up to where the ball was taking place. Looking at it from her window Emma almost forgot to breathe, but then she collected herself, smiling at the attendant and tilting her head to the side curiously when he addressed her as ‘Princess.’ That was quite an assumption to make on the spot, but then again this crimson gown that Tinkerbelle had crafted for Emma was remarkable, and no person she knew could ever dream to replicate it without magic or a material wealth reserved for royals.

The next thing she knew Emma had been led up the stairs and into the palace, trying to take in every wreath and garland and perfect decoration that spoke to more wealth and affluence than Emma could even imagine. Only after a moment, did Emma realize, however, that she was arriving rather late. No one remained in the entryway save for palace staff, meaning that everyone else must be inside already. A prickling of unease came upon her then, for she hated the idea of standing out from the crowd, but what was there to do at this point? She’d come all of this way, and it would be foolish to turn back now. No. She had to keep going. It was the only way.

“Okay, you can do this Emma,” she whispered to herself in attempt at stern self-council. “Just breathe. Just breathe.”

With one last steadying breath and a rushed sort of prayer that she didn’t trip and make a fool of herself, Emma made her way to the landing and looked down below. It was the first time she’d ever seen a gathering like this, with all the dancing, and the music, and the splendor of it all. The room was adorned in golden hues made more prominent by the reds and greens and whites of Christmas. There were massive trees that must have come from deep within the forest in each corner of the room, and the general merriment of the festivities was palpable, leaving a buzzing kind of energy all throughout the space. Emma immediately fell in love with all of it, soaking in the excitement and the ambiance all around, but then something changed. A hush fell over the room and suddenly everyone was looking at her. Emma felt her cheeks warm at the attention and part of her wanted to turn tail and run for the closest exit, but then her eyes landed on one man among the crowd of people and her heart skipped as a sense of something familiar washed over her.

Handsome was a word many people would use to describe such a man, and they wouldn’t be wrong per se, but Emma didn’t think it did him justice. He was… god she didn’t know what he was, but this zinging sense of rightness tingled through her as she made her way down the stairs, and she couldn’t help as she descended the way her eyes tracked every part of him. That dark hair, those unbelievably blue eyes, and that handsome face held her captivated. She was so taken in she had no idea how she made it down the final set of steps, but as she’d made her way, the mysterious man had made a journey of his own, not attempting in any way to hide his objective of getting close to her. Emma smiled at the thought and the look in his eyes that told her she wasn’t the only one feeling this pull between them, but then her smile prompted a grin from him in kind and Emma was just as overwhelmed as she’d been at first sight.

Somewhere in the midst of all of that though, things began to piece together. Given the finery of his clothes and the seal of the noble house of Jones on his jacket, Emma realized he must be someone important, but only when she heard the murmurings rumbling through the crowd around them did she realize in full. This wasn’t just any nobleman; it was Prince Killian, younger brother of the king, and the man who this ball was intended for. Tonight he was supposed to find a proper match, and of all the people in the palace, he chose to be here now with her, making Emma feel wonderful and wildly anxious all at once. What could she – a common kitchen girl – possibly have to say to a prince? She hardly knew, but she had to figure it out and quickly too.

“Your highness,” Emma said as means of introduction, curtseying in a way she hoped passed for polite, but when she was done the prince said nothing. Instead he stepped toward her, taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing ever so slightly against her skin and leaving a blissful, sparkling sense of desire and awareness flowing through her as his eyes traced every feature of her face. She was so dizzy from it all that Emma almost forgot the fact that he hadn’t yet spoken, but a voice to the right of them alerted Prince Killian of his need for action.

“Well don’t just stand there, mate. Ask the lady to dance.”

Emma looked over to find a man in knight’s garb grinning from ear to ear, and then she heard the prince grumbling about ‘that damned Scarlet’ but when she turned back to look at Prince Killian again all the intensity of before remained locked on her. In those cerulean eyes she saw so much that would go unsaid, and it left that twisting twirl of want and anticipation fluttering all the more low in her stomach. She’d never felt so frazzled and free all at once, and then he offered her another smile, this one turned up slightly at the side and she was lost.

“Would you do me the great honor of dancing with me, Princess…?” he asked her, and Emma wanted to correct him and clear the air now. She was no princess, but she was also unable to form those words. She was falling into the silken sensation of the gravel of his voice against her skin, and it felt like the only choice she had was to tell him her name, since that was clearly what he wanted.”

“Emma.”

“Emma,” he murmured in reply, as if he was tasting her name on his tongue and finding he loved it. The way her ordinary name sounded so transformed on his lips was enough to have Emma reeling, but that sensation was only made more prominent as Killian led her to the dance floor that was now cleared of anyone else.

“Everyone’s watching us,” Emma whispered to him after a few turns about the room, reluctant to keep staring at him even though it was what she wanted most to do. She was giving too much away, showing too much affection for a man she didn’t even know, but Emma couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss when her eyes left his gaze. Then the apprehension of earlier returned as she saw the eyes of everyone in the ballroom fixed on the two of them.

“Are they?” Killian asked in a distracted tone, pulling Emma’s eyes back to his where she found he’d never looked away from her. “I’ll have to take your word for it, since it seems I’m powerless to see anything but you.”

“Are you always this charming?” Emma asked then as she fought off another blush and Killian chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

“I don’t think anyone has ever called me charming, Princess, especially at a Christmas ball.”

“Not a fan of the season?” Emma asked, genuinely curious as to why that would be, especially when he was nothing but a gentleman with her in every way. Or rather most ways. Emma doubted that gentleman ever held their dance partners quite so close, but she didn’t mind that at all. Being here, pressed against his firm body and held in his strong arms, Emma felt safer than she’d ever been, and more desirous than at any time in her life before.

“I used to be, once upon a time,” he said thoughtfully, and Emma watched as his eyes fogged up a bit with some memory he must be revisiting.

“But not anymore,” Emma observed, expecting him to agree, and feeling the surprise when he smiled again.

“Well now I’m not so sure. You see this was shaping up to be the same kind of Christmas as all the others, dark and dreary and missing that certain something everyone wants this time of year. But then an angel in red appeared before me and now suddenly everything is different.”

Where there words to respond to such a compliment? Emma didn’t know of any if they did exist, but she smiled back at him and let it hang there between them as Killian effortlessly twirled her across the dance floor. One song flowed into another, and now more people had joined them on the floor though Emma barely noticed. Instead she was grounded in this perfect little bubble where a man who made her breathless held her in his arms with a care and reverence she didn’t know could even exist.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming, love,” the prince said aloud a moment later, and Emma watched as the realization that he’d just said those words and called her such an affectionate name sank in. The flush that spread in response was endearing, just as it was when his hand came to scratch behind his ear in a show of slight embarrassment. “Forgive me. That was too familiar. It’s just… all night I’ve been standing here, saddled with responsibility, trying to do my brother proud though I couldn’t stand to be here, and then you walk in and all of that is gone. I spent the whole night praying for this evening to end, and now I never want it too.”

“We only met ten minutes ago,” Emma replied with an attempted smirk that probably didn’t play as confident and self-assured as she wanted. Try as she might she couldn’t appear unfazed by Prince Killian or his words since they meant so much to her.

“And I only needed one to know,” Killian murmured as one of his hands came up to graze her cheek. Emma leaned into the action, feeling her breathing speed up as she did.

“Know what?” she asked and at that Killian grinned again.

“That you’re different,” he confessed and Emma looked away, slightly ashamed that she’d been figured out so soon. Then he stopped dancing and his hand came to tilt her chin back up to look at him. “That you’re special.”

“If you really knew me, you might not be so sure,” Emma said, hearing the defeated tone of her voice and watching as Killian shook his head, not thwarted in the slightest.

“Let me prove you wrong. Let me show you what I know is here between us,” he implored her and Emma tilted her head in question. She wanted to go with him, on that there was no doubt. But could she trust her judgment tonight? Was she capable of guarding her heart enough to keep it safe when all of this was over, when she had such a night and such a man to tempt her? Emma didn’t know, but Killian must have read her mind as he made a final plea. “All I need is for you to trust me, and I swear I’ll show you there was never any need to fear.”

Pacified by his promise Emma nodded and she allowed the Prince to pull her out from the ball and into the courtyard outside. The music from inside still wafted out to here but it was softer now, flittering through the windows and the doors in a soft and soothing kind of hum. Emma thought to herself in that moment as she gazed upon the snowy scape before them that it should have been freezing out here, chilled as the world was this time of year, but through some enchantment Emma couldn’t quite place the air around them remained mild and the lantern lights glowed, illuminating the bluer hues of late night stars in a similar gold to the ones within the palace.

They stayed out there for what felt like mere minutes, but Emma knew from all they said that it must have been more time. It was just so easy with him, sitting here, tucked close together hand in hand without a care in the world, and for those hours out there they weren’t a prince or a common maid, they were just two people, two people who Emma had to admit, did seem to fit so seamlessly together. If things were different – no, regardless of how things were – it was clear to Emma that Killian was the best kind of man. He was good and kind and honorable, with a love of his brother and his kingdom and his people. He was witty and charming, but never conceited or elitist. And perhaps more than anything else, Killian was the first person in a long time who looked at her like he saw her for all she was. He might not know everything, but Emma couldn’t help but feel like he knew her heart and that that was the most important thing. He was a man who was impossible to resist, and after years of never thinking she’d find anything like love Emma had to concede that the stirring in her soul tonight was evidence that love was, in fact, possible.

“Didn’t I tell you, love?” Killian asked after a time spent in companionable quiet out there together, and Emma looked back at him with questioning in her eyes as he brought her hand up to kiss ever so gently. “There’s something here, something rare and remarkable. Tell me you feel it too.”

“I feel it,” Emma whispered, hearing the cracks of emotion in her voice brought on by the sheer force of what she was feeling, and the lingering remembrance that soon this would all be just a dream. Tomorrow she’d wake up with all of this out of her reach, and it nearly tore her heart in two to think that way. Then Killian leaned down, taking her lips in a kiss and Emma was both distracted from the pain and imbibed with a new sense of earnest need and wanting. If this kiss – this perfect, passionate embrace – was all she ever had with Killian, then it would have to be enough. She’d never feel this way again, never love as fast or as strongly as she’d fallen tonight, but at least she’d have this beautiful remembrance to see her through the long hard days without him.

The kiss, which started as a gentle assurance of their mutual desire turned to more, slipping past the kind of actions a prince or a lady should be partaking in at a public ball, but Emma didn’t care. All that mattered was this connection and this moment, and she soaked all of it in until the last final second when time caught up with her and called her back to reality. The slice of fear that cut through Emma as the clock tower rang out the tones of the midnight bells was instantaneous and at the sound she pulled away from Killian, rising to her feet and looking towards an escape. She had to get out of here or risk ruining this glorious night with a reality that just wasn’t the same. Once the magic faded, Killian would see that even if she’d never lied, she’d withheld a crucial truth, and that would change this perfect fairytale to something Emma couldn’t begin to dream of handling.

“I’m sorry, tonight’s been… well it’s been like a dream but I have to go. I’m so sorry.”

The words fell past Emma’s lips in a rush as she ran from the garden, avoiding the ball that was still carrying on inside and trying her best to get around the estate and towards her carriage once more. She had so little time, so little chance of getting out of here, and then that chance was truly halted when a hand – Killian’s hand – reached out to stop her.

“Emma, I don’t understand. You have to go? Just like that?”

“I don’t want to,” Emma said as the next bell tolled and she willed herself not to shed the tears that were forming in her eyes. “But I have to. It’s out of my control.”

“I can’t accept that Emma. If you don’t care for me then tell me that. I’m man enough to stand aside if your heart desires another… but if its fear that’s guiding you, then please don’t run from me. Run to me, love, and whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

Emma felt herself shaking with adrenaline as the clock tolled out again. She wanted so badly to give into his plan and to face this by his side. Leaving him was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, but staying...? Well staying meant the chance that he’d reject her and she didn’t think her heart could take it. Before she could say any of that though, he pulled her back further into his arms and kissed her again briefly before speaking the rest of his peace.

“There’s nothing you could say that would change my mind, Emma. No secret, no darkness, no story that will change the way I feel for you. I realize its fast, some would say its crazy even, but sometimes you just know when something is right, and I know in my heart that I was meant to find you and that we belong together.”

Emma closed her eyes, fighting a war within herself about what to do, but in the end it was the voice inside her heart that led her way. It told her to believe, because maybe – just maybe – this would turn out all right in the end. Maybe it really wouldn’t matter, and maybe they could have more than just this one night. There was only one way to know, and it would require her to be braver than she’d ever been. So she didn’t pull away from Killian, even as each final tone sounded out in the cold night air, counting down to midnight and revealing the magic for what it was, a glamour covering the simple girl she really was.

Killian’s eyes went wide at the transformation, and before he could ask anything, Emma filled in the missing pieces. She told him the absolute truth of who she was and who she wasn’t. She told him about Tinkerbelle and the magic, about the constraints on her time and how it couldn’t last forever. But most importantly she told him she was sorry, sorry that she’d kept things from him and led him to believe she was anything other than Emma Swan.

“Don’t say that,” Killian said in the face of her apology, and Emma didn’t know what he meant until he pulled her closer again and made his feelings on the subject plain as day. “I hate to think that you’d regret this evening, love. Not when it’s been the happiest of my life.”

“It has?” Emma asked in shock, truly not expecting his acceptance so quickly. “But what you thought before – what I led you to believe…”

Her words trailed off as Killian brought her hands into his, leading each one up to his lips for a gently kiss as he smiled at her again. “The way I see it, love, nothing has changed.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked, with a charge of emotion clinging to her voice. “Everything’s changed! I walked in tonight and you thought I was a princess, and now you know that’s not the case. I’m far from royalty, your -,”

Emma’s words were cut off before she could finish the thought by Killian pulling her in for a kiss that somehow packed even more passion and want and truth than the ones before. It also allowed Emma to let go of those worries she’d been clinging too only moments ago, and by the time she pulled away, there was nothing on her mind except for the feeling that this was right, and that she never wanted to leave this man who held her like she was the most precious thing in all the realms and like he never wanted to let her go. Even when the kiss had ended she held on tight, her forehead pressed against his as her hands clung to his jacket, unwilling to break the bond between them.

“When I called you Princess tonight, Emma, it wasn’t merely speculation based on your gown. It was because I knew, even before I knew your name, that in a perfect world, in a world where dreams could be made real, you would be a princess, my princess. One look was all it took for me, Emma. I saw you and I knew. Call it fate, call it destiny, call it love at first sight, but the only thing that mattered – the only thing that will ever matter – is you, love.”

“And what about your brother?” Emma asked. “What about the kingdom?”

“I know that they will see what I see in you. No matter where you come from, Emma, you are still you, and that in itself is more than enough.”

This time it was Emma who pulled Killian in for a kiss, loving the feel of him and finally allowing herself to believe in his words. He really did want her, and now she felt like she could be honest with herself in how much she wanted him too. Nothing before had ever meant so much to her, and she was so consumed by this embrace she almost missed the crackling aura of magic surrounding her once more. When they did come up for air though, Emma was shocked, watching the rags she’d been wearing before transform back into her crimson dress once more.

“But Tink said it couldn’t last… that the magic was only strong enough for one night.” Emma said, unable to understand how she was once again dressed in the garments Tink had bestowed upon her until Killian offered a potential answer.

“What magic could ever be stronger than true love?”

“Love?” Emma asked, shocked at the word but unafraid of its implication. This was fast, yes, but what was it he’d said only a moment before? Sometimes you just know…

“Aye. I love you Emma Swan, and I want to spend my whole life showing you just how much,” he said looking at her with a hope and a certainty that awed her as his hand reached inside his jacket and removed a ring. Then, right there in the snow covered garden he got down on one knee and plead for the chance. “I never believed this would happen tonight, love, mostly because I never knew a love so strong awaited me. But now I know, and I’ve no intention of turning my back on such a gift. You are all I need, Emma. You are the magic that my life has been missing. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she replied, happy tears streaming down her face. “Yes, Killian I will marry you.”

And with that there was much more celebration to be had. The engagement was announced and a wedding soon followed, and Killian was proved right in his earlier beliefs. For Emma was beloved by the people and her new family too, and there was never any question of where she belonged and what she deserved. From that point on Christmas time carried even more cheer and happiness than in the years before, and as for Emma and Killian, well they did what so many souls who share true love do: they lived happily ever after.

……………..

Ten minutes ago, I saw you I looked up when you came through the door My head started reeling You gave me the feeling The room had no ceiling or floor

Ten minutes ago, I met you And we murmured our "How do you do's?" I wanted to ring out the bells And fling out my arms And to sing out the news "I have found her, she's an angel With the dust of the stars in her eyes We are dancing, we are flying And she's taking me back to the skies"

In the arms of my love, I'm flying Over mountain and meadow and glen And I like it so well That for all I can tell I may never come down again I may never come down to earth again

Ten minutes ago, I met you And we murmured our "How do you do's?" I wanted to ring out the bells And fling out my arms And to sing out the news

I have found him In the arms of my love, I'm flying Over mountain and meadow and glen And I like it so well That for all I can tell I may never come down again

I may never come down to earth again

Post-Note: So once again I just want to say thank you to the lovely reader who suggested this song. It was quite a while ago that I got this request (as any of you who have asked for songs know, I take FOREVER to get around to them since there are so many), but finally my muse showed me a way to make all my usual fluff and share it with others. So I am very thankful for the request, and for all of my readers who have sent some of their own. Know that I have a list of them all, and though my writing has been so much less frequent because of this program, some day I hope to get to each and every one of them! Anyway if you celebrate I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, and if not, wishing you all lovely winters filled with lots of CS and fic cuteness galore!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168

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irlpinkiepie · 7 years

Text

a house built on sand, chapter 5

a bnha fic

Dreams are fickle creatures.

Sometimes the most certain can fall apart at a moment’s notice, and sometimes, the most fantastic dreams have a chance of coming true.

Of course, that all depends on the dreamer.

[ao3]

Quick rundown. Breakfast, shower, get dressed. She had timed the train ride a few days before, and the earliest she could afford to leave for a 9:00 start was at 8:10, 8:12 if she ran. Look down. 6:28. That’s plenty of time.

As the dye soaked into her hair, Izuku sunk into her favorite habit. What is the exam going to be like? She knew there was some kind of practical component, so it probably had something to do with talent towards being a hero, but beyond that she was totally lost. Fighting villains was the most obvious choice, but villains didn't exactly operate on a schedule, and that would also technically be illegal since neither she nor any of her compatriots would be licensed heroes. Maybe some kind of quirk test? She sincerely hoped not, but she trusted All Might not to deliberately mislead her into false hopes. Unless he had as much of an idea as she did? She didn't want to think about that possibility.

7:31; hopefully that wouldn't hurt too much. Izuku closed her eyes as she rinsed out her hair in the sink, then opened them to look into the mirror. It wasn't perfect, to be sure; there were some waves of hue, and a couple of places where the roots still shone the same light brown as before, but she figured that would come with practice.

She stared into the bright green eyes of her reflection, and then smiled. She looked just like her mother.

Now, get everything else ready to leave. A jacket would probably be a good idea; Izuku grabbed one out of her closet and slid it on over her tank top. Shoes? A pair of white sneakers lay in a rack by the front door before she grabbed them and jumped into them. ID, railcard, and applicant forms were all set; she was practically bouncing at this point, desperate to hop on the train and not spend a single second more waiting.

So, not seeing any reason to stay, she called out a quick goodbye and dashed out the front door.

The train ride was a blur of expectation. The moment Izuku got on, she rushed straight to the back of the car and sat down in the corner, struggling to stay calm as the suburban scenery faded into cityscape. Unable to keep her mind wholly distracted, she took to scanning the car’s passengers, looking for other kids about her age who might be joining her for the entrance exam. A young girl with long, pointed ears poking out of her blue hair, sitting on the other side of the car; Izuku almost moved to say hi, but before she got the chance, the girl picked up her bag and got off a couple stops into the journey. Probably not, then.

A boy with golden blond hair, sitting by himself, but in a tuxedo and holding a briefcase? Doubtful.

Izuku was both relieved and disappointed to not see Katsuki anywhere on the train. There was something a little nerve-wracking about having to navigate such an important day on her own, but she had heard quite enough of his opinions regarding UA High, and she preferred her current uncertainty and nervousness to the contempt which that familiarity had bred.

That being said, she hoped to have a chance to talk to him after the exam; maybe once the pressure of school had been alleviated, he’d be in less of a sour mood.

When her stop was finally called, Izuku was the first one out of the door. School’s right around the corner. No sense in waiting after coming this far.

The sight that she beheld upon rounding the block and turning to her left was so much glorious than pictures could ever have done justice. Towers of glass rising high above the earth, the morning sun reflecting off the building bright enough she had to shade her eyes. A sparkling concrete wall encircling the premises, trees bursting up from behind its border whose leaves were just beginning to bud. And in the midst of it all, hanging gently over what Izuku could only assume was the front gate, was a plain white banner which read simply, “Exam day!”

A few minutes later, she managed to collect herself and walk through the entrance.

Cars are expensive, sure, and a big responsibility, but was being dropped off by Mom and Dad really necessary? It didn't seem dignified.

He was made for greatness, after all.

The school was bigger than his last, but that didn't hugely concern him. He knew there would be more students than in a local junior high, and besides, the school looked rich enough that some amount of this was just extravagance for the sake of it.

Take a look around, survey the competition. Almost everyone already went to the lobby already, he should probably join them, but who was this girl with green hair, wearing shorts in winter and just staring at everything? She seemed a little familiar …

Probably not important; he probably wouldn't see her again. Time to head inside.

Izuku was thrown from her taking in the scenery by the passing of a face she couldn't help but recognize. Katsuki.

She was glad he was okay, at least, but he didn't even say hi? Was the exam stress getting to him that much? She definitely still had a few more minutes before she had to go inside, so he couldn't have been in a rush…

Wait. The hair, the outfit - maybe he just didn't recognize her. She beamed thinking about that possibility.

Still, the inside of the campus was just as phenomenal as it looked from the outside. Despite the building’s apparently bureaucratic appearance, it was actually put together rather artistically; the glass blocks, when viewed separately, seemed almost as towers of a radiant castle. And the height! She could count up almost a dozen floors standing far away, but from this close all that Izuku could sense was just the sheer scale of the place, dominating everything else around it. Hopefully, at some point, she'd get used to this. If she got in. When she got in.

The pathways, too, seemed remarkably well-kept; Izuku knew this school had been around for half a century, but every single brick looked positively brand-new. Maybe there was someone on staff whose quirk related to repairs? That'd definitely make for a pretty useful hero in an emergency situation although the applicability of that sort of power would probably vary wildly so maybe that's why they would move towards an educational career so that they can more effectively benefit wait that pathway is getting closer really fast uh oh close your eyes--

But despite her panic, Izuku never hit the ground.

After a moment of stunned realization, she opened her eyes, and found her face inches away from the pavement - and staying there. She was flying, or, at least, she was floating. But why?

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry!” came a voice from behind her. “I didn't mean to scare you like that, I just saw you about to trip, and it felt like bad luck incoming! I had to do something. Here, spin around and grab my hand.”

Izuku reached out her left arm and gently pushed against the ground in an attempt to get herself at least a little bit further up. Face no longer pressed towards the path, she found herself being stood over by a girl with warm brown hair, holding out her arm and looking at her expectantly. Reaching out her own hand and grabbing on, Izuku felt herself being pulled weightlessly into a more or less upright position, before suddenly feeling the pull of gravity again as she fell the last couple of inches.

“My quirk is making things weightless,” the girl said, pulling a pink scarf down from her face and tucking it into the collar of her coat. “I know you’re not supposed to use them on people, but I hope you don’t mind too much.”

“O-oh, not at all!” Izuku stuttered in reply, not entirely sure how to react. “Thanks for the help.”

“Of course!” responded the brunette with a smile. “It’s like I said, I’d hate it if someone lost out ‘cause of feeling unlucky. I know it’s a bit silly,” she continued, stretching an arm behind her head, “but it can’t hurt. I’m Ochako, by the way.”

“Izuku.” There was something reassuring about Ochako’s presence, even if she couldn’t figure out what exactly.

“Should we get going? As beautiful as it is outside, it can probably wait until after the exam, don’t you think?” Ochako walked a couple of steps towards the door as she spoke, and then turned back to Izuku, motioning to follow.

She was still unsure of herself, but she didn’t have any doubts about this. Smiling back as best she could, Izuku followed her new friend through the school’s front doors.

“No, it’s actually rarer than you’d think,” Ochako said as the two of them found their way into the auditorium at the end of the hallways and arrow-labeled signs. “I was the only one from my school who applied. It’s like, self-selecting? Most of the people who wouldn’t get in don’t even bother going through the exam. Middle section alright?”

“Sure thing,” responded Izuku, as the two of them moved into the rows and set their sights on a pair of still-empty seats. They weren’t scheduled to start for a few minutes, but the seats were already filling close to the brim. “There seem to be a lot more people here than that, though,” she said gesturing to the room around her.

“Hm? There are a lot of junior high schools in Japan, you know.”

“Oh. Right.” For some reason, the idea that there were kids like her who had traveled across the country to chase the same dream had never occurred to her, but now that it had, her nervousness suddenly escalated far above what it had been all day. She had probably had more training, sure, but she wasn’t even the best in her class, let alone the entire country.

“Are you feeling okay?” Ochako said, and then her voice became static and swirled around her.

There wasn’t a single thing she had done to prepare herself for several hundred students who were all the best in their school, and now she was stuck and there was no way out and the walls and the students pushed closer and closer and a hand gently fell into her lap and she grabbed it as tight as she could and held on until the panic faded and the lights and sounds outside her returned to their sources and she followed the hand she held tight to its origin and looked up at her and smiled and said, simply, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright in the exam?” Gone was her previously cheery demeanor, replaced by an expression of worry.

“Yeah, I-I’m sorry.” Stay calm, don’t fret, just focus on what’s best possible. “I don’t really do well with uncertainty, and I was kind of thrown…”

Ochako nodded, a faint smile returning to her face. “Well, if it helps at all, orientation’s just about to start; should be any minute now.” Sure enough, Izuku looked down at her watch and saw the faint glow of an 8:59 screen, which she stared at expectantly waiting for the next change in time.

Just before it had the chance, though, it was interrupted by a hum of speaker static coming from the front of the auditorium, followed by an almost ear-splitting amplified voice echoing through the room which said only the words “EVERYBODY READY?” And with that, the lights dimmed, a projector shone onto the back wall, and a young man dressed in all black leather sauntered on stage, blond hair gelled back to a point.

Present Mic.

UA graduate of ‘38, top 10 in popularity polls for the first five years of his career, billions of yen earned lifetime, and now, it seemed, high school teacher. Honestly, as far as career paths went, Izuku didn’t think that one was so bad. She wasn’t sure how much he really needed a microphone given his quirk, though.

Still, as much time as she had spent with All Might, there was still something amazing about seeing a professional hero standing right in front of her and talking directly to her, especially one whose radio show she still listened to on a nightly basis.

“Welcome, everyone, to the first day of what will hopefully be a long and happy three years of study at UA High School! That is, of course, if you can pass the entrance exam! LET’S GET THINGS STARTED!” The projector, which previously displayed a blank white screen, now had additional lettering: plain black type which read ‘Entrance Exam Details’, and below that, in a smaller font, the words ‘By Hizashi Yamada’.

“So!” Present Mic continued, still excitedly shouting every word. “There is a written exam too, and that’ll be in a few days or so, but there’s nothing EXCITING about that! You kids signed up here ‘cause you wanted to be heroes! So let’s see if you can!”

He threw his arms out and yelled, “CURTAINS PLEASE!” At that, the title card behind him faded, replacing itself with what looked like a… video game screen? Complete with tinny music playing through the speakers.

Well, he seemed excited, even if the rest of the room was silent.

“Your test is gonna be fighting villains! Robot villains! Lots of them!” Pixelated figures materialized on the board, and were those Mario enemies? On second thought, this was clearly going to be weird; Izuku figured it would be better to just accept it. Each of the figures was labeled with a different number, and a similarly-styled Present Mic appeared and started wandering around the virtual city.

“Three types of robots! Each one’s worth a different number of points - try to get as many as you can in ten minutes! Don’t get killed!” Wait, how dangerous was this going to be? No, that was probably just a joke. Maybe. His shouting every word didn’t exactly make the tone of his words clear, as much as it was still a delight to listen to.

“Excuse me, sir!” Another voice rang out from the audience; Izuku was amazed that anyone managed to find room to get a word in edgewise. She looked to find the source of the interruption, and traced it to a boy sitting near the front, standing perfectly straight in his school uniform and raising his hand high in the air. Astonishingly, Present Mic noticed him too, and stopped his speech to respond, “Yes? What’s the matter?”

“You mentioned there being only three types of opponent,” the boy said bluntly, pushing his glasses to his face, “and yet the diagram you provided shows four plus yourself. Is this a problem with your speech, or with the presentation?”

“Worry not!” Present Mic responded before spinning back behind the podium and dramatically stretching out his arms again. “That’s just what I was about to mention! The mid-round game changer! Zero point robot! Just don’t get in its way!”

All in all, this ‘test’ seemed bizarre at best. They were just going to be set loose on a bunch of fake villains? But presumably still dangerous villains, otherwise the test wouldn’t be very useful, but also not too dangerous villains, since she hadn’t heard about any previous children killed by an entrance exam. She turned to Ochako making a confused face, and received only a shrug in response.

“Check your forms for your exam center! Buses leave outside in 20 minutes, so get ready! Break a leg! PLUS ULTRA!” Shouting his final words loud enough to put Izuku’s hair on end, he stood back and bowed as the screen faded to black. Izuku, for her own part, managed a couple enthusiastic claps before realizing that the rest of the room failed to share her sentiment.

The two of them both perused their sheets before finding a small, capital letter ‘B’ in the bottom right corner.

“Well… good luck, I guess,” Izuku said hesitantly. She wasn’t sure how she felt about having people she knew watching her during the exam, even if only indirectly, but she gave a thumbs up regardless.

“Thanks! You too.” Ochako blinked a couple of times before nodding and offering a faint smile alongside her words.

As the two of them filed out of the auditorium along with the rest of the students, neither said another word.

The bus ride was surprisingly short, and Katsuki was nowhere to be seen. Cherish blessings as they come.

This current situation, though, was nothing short of confounding. Izuku really wasn’t expecting to be blown away by architecture twice in one day, but it seemed like the school really had built enclosed cityscapes out in the middle of the countryside, and she could see the peak of a skyscraper rising out above the sheer metal wall in front of her. Seven buses outside before she left probably meant that there were seven of these, and if there was any damage to the interiors, they would have to be rebuilt every single year. Everything she had learned that day shocked her.

Looking around, she saw Ochako again - no longer dressed in winter gear, but instead sporting a light blue jacket and tracksuit. She must have gotten changed before getting on the buses, then - that would explain why she had left and Izuku hadn’t spotted her again until now. It felt wrong to leave the situation between the two of them unresolved, though, and she wanted to make sure her words had been taken sincerely. She only managed a single step in her direction, though, before her path was blocked by the straightened arm of another student.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” the boy stopping her said sternly. Izuku was surprised to see the same boy who had interrupted Present Mic’s speech standing in front of her. At this rate, it was more surprising that Katsuki wasn’t there with her.

“That girl over there is clearly trying to concentrate. It would be extremely inappropriate for you to interfere with your competitors in such a manner, and I ask that you please refrain.”

“I-- uh… okay.” No point in arguing; even in what was presumably a school P.E. uniform, he was still somewhat of a presence. Izuku gently backed up and walked off in a different direction as quickly as she could.

Wanting to avoid thinking about that awkwardness, Izuku decided to take a moment to strategize. While she hadn’t technically done it before, there was nothing about fighting robotic opponents that seemed noticeably different from human opponents with quirks, and she had been taught by the best how to do that. It was just a matter of being resourceful and thinking quickly, and with only three types of robots to contend with, it shouldn’t be tricky to get a feeling of how to defeat them all.

How would points be assigned for collaborative efforts, though? She didn’t really want to take any risks, so she should probably head out on her own and hope not to run into anyone. That being said, she wasn’t on the best of terms with the two students she had actually spoken to already, and not really being sure how much time there was before the exam actually started, trying to collaborate at this point seemed like a fool’s errand. Seeing the other students all standing apart silently in front of the open gate, she doubted anyone would even wait the gate was open.

Did that mean the test had started? No one else seemed to have noticed, and the worst that could happen is that she would be pulled out and have to start with everyone else. Besides, a head start was a tempting offer.

Just as she was about to cross the threshold into the artificial city, she heard the crackle of a loudspeaker, and nearly panicked before she heard its message: the voice of Present Mic angrily shouting, “Well, what are you waiting for? No countdowns in battle!” At that, the people behind her perked up and started running, so Izuku took that as a sign to do the same. Pulling off at the first corner and making sure no one had followed her, she wandered into the city looking for enemies, and it wasn’t long until she found one.

Never had Izuku been more glad to have accidentally left a screwdriver in her pocket. With as many electrical appliances as she had dismantled over the course of her beach training, there was often a temptation to hate its presence, but right now she couldn’t be more grateful.

The android standing in front of her had large shields over its arms, each emblazoned with the numeral “1”. Mutator-type quirk, she thought. Tackle the weak points, manipulate the mutation. Seeing the arms about to come down at her, she dodged out of the way, and then ran behind her opponent and held on tight to its back. A loose plate became looser, and a couple of wires were knocked from their slots, and the robot she was grabbing lost power and fell to the floor.

Izuku sat down for a moment to catch her breath. The moment she had stepped through the gate to the city, she had felt slightly uneasy, and that encounter had amplified that feeling to distress. Not panic, fortunately, but enough to start making her feel sick.

As soon as she could, though, she picked herself back up and kept moving. She wasn’t sure what a winning score was, but something told her that a single point would not suffice.

Walking through the cityscape was an oddly surreal experience. So many of the side alleys and narrow roads reminded her of her own home city - was that deliberate? - but for every familiar doorstep and street corner, there was a pristine concrete wall or row of darkened windows that reminded her that her surroundings were artificial. Given more time to ponder, Izuku would have wandered for days; as it was, though, her observations were minor distractions as she ran by on a quest to defeat more enemies.

When the loudspeaker rang out with a five-minute warning before she had increased her score any further, though, she realized that she was going to have to adopt a different strategy.

Concentrate. The simulation is likely to be accurate. Real villains don’t attack randomly, they attack population centers. Going right to the most open areas would probably mean competition from other students, but the access routes would probably be effective targets, as well as blocking off the other students. Plus, this was just a simulation, but there was something that seemed wrong about attacking villains in places where others could be endangered.

She listened out for the sound of commotion and followed it as best she could, but when another one-point robot crossed her path, panic suffused through her body and overrode her previous ability to fight back. When the metallic arm swung down towards her, she tried desperately to run away, but her legs were frozen in place, and she could only squeeze her eyelids shut and fret.

She wasn ’t entirely happy with how this whole situation played out, but at the halfway things seemed to be looking up. Her quirk was starting to wear her out, though; thankfully, this wasn’t an extended fight, so she could go home and rest afterward. For now, though? All out; there was something so oddly satisfying about the process of tagging the robots, pushing them into the air, and letting them fall to the ground, and she couldn’t help but smile every time she heard a crash behind her. The latest set had brought her up to a clean thirty.

While she had seen other students around, none of them ever tried to mess with her, though she couldn ’t count on that staying true as the number of robots dwindled. She was going to have to act.

A loud whirring noise sounded a couple of streets down; with any luck, she ’d be the first one to it.

Izuku opened her eyes to see the robot still in front of her, swinging wild strokes with its shield arms, not a single one in danger of hitting her. Curious, she stepped forward into their path, and the robot in its turn rolled back so that its attacks were still out of range.

The robots were never going to hurt them. This test was completely safe.

That realization now under her belt, she took to disabling the second robot in the same manner as the first, and it quickly fell down to the ground with a clatter. Not having to worry about staying safe, this test would become a cinch. Izuku rushed off towards the city center, the few remaining enemies in her path tumbling harmlessly as she passed them and deactivated them.

People talk all the time about missing the forest for the trees, but no one ever mentions missing the collapsing building for the giant robot knocking it down. Funny, that.

While she had managed to avoid most of the debris, the impact from what remained was enough to knock the wind out of her, and she doubted she ’d be able to clear all of it with her quirk right away. Still, she felt like she had a decent lead, and once the exam was over they’d come and rescue her.

As much as she wanted to focus on silver linings, she was still drowning in steel.

Izuku’s forward progress was halted by a sudden, loud whirring off in the distance. She hadn’t actually seen any three-point robots still intact, and the idea of a burst of extra points was too appealing to pass up on, even if it was some distance away. She made a dash for the sound’s origin, then stopped cold when a couple of blocks later, she found it.

Stay calm. Focus. Don’t worry. This was probably the zero point robot. If it was anything like the other robots, it wasn’t allowed to actually hurt any of the students.

Mixed in with the sea of debris in front of her was a familiar light blue.

It wouldn’t hurt them unless it didn’t know that they were there.

Her view to the outside was limited, but there was nothing comforting about seeing a sea of people running from the place where she was fixed. Baffling, though, was seeing this and noticing a single person heading towards her.

Only one thing to do. Dig as fast as you can. Her life depends on it.

The roaring motors grew louder by the second, but it felt as though the weight on her shoulders was lifting.

Reaching out a hand to Ochako’s now excavated body, she saw the hand in front of her and grabbed on, but no matter how hard she pulled, the rest of the debris still weighed down on her body, and she felt her body lighten as her control over her power began to waver and Izuku was floating.

“I’ll save you,” she whispered, and then pressed off the ground and flew into the air.

A rising, followed by a crashing.

The joint at the robot’s neck was crucially weak. A single, impulsive punch sent it flying backwards, as she did the same from the now lifeless robot.

She smiled, and then closed her eyes.

In the rush of the moment, she failed to notice that the pull of gravity had returned to her body.

A falling, followed by a landing.

Izuku and Ochako were both barely, luckily, alive.

#talking always yes lots of reading #ok to rebagel #bnha #tv: my hero academia #adherence to typical form? never heard of her #ahbos

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mrshopkirk · 7 years

Text

“Reach out for me” (part 1)

Characters: Steve x Bucky, mention of Sam

Summary: After Steve finds Bucky, he takes him to the tower to work on his recovery. Although Steve yearns for some kind of contact, he doesn’t show it and Bucky is still incapable of giving him what he needs but he’s trying. A stupid incident happens that Bucky takes very personal and he makes a terrible decision.

Warnings: angst (what a surprise), mention of blood, recovering from PTSD, tons of miscommunication or a lack thereof, swearing

Word count: 3848 (it got out of hand, sorry)

A/N: This fic is written mostly from Bucky’s POV. It’s based on the prompt “exactly what you’d expect” for the Cards Against Humanity writing challenge for @emilyevanston. I truly hope you like it. I used the prompt twice, once for the fic and once now to tell you that is probably exactly what you’d expect from me.

Thank you @abovethesmokestacks for proofreading. I love you, sweetheart. Feedback is appreciated.

*MASTERLIST*

Reach out for me and touch my skin. I long for your touch. Why can’t you see? Have I lost the look on my face? You used to be able to read me like an open book. I’m still here. You just have to turn the page and start a new chapter. I’ll even start a new book for you if you want to. I’ll do anything for you, just like I used to.

Worry fills your eyes when you see the dark circles under my eyes in the morning. Another sleepless night lies behind me but I can’t tell you why. I let you think it’s because of the nightmares although you must know by now that they’re mostly gone. Gone are the cries. Gone are the screams. Gone is death playing on loop in my mind. Yet sleep doesn’t find me. Or it does but I decline it every night. When nighttime comes I indulge myself in a guilty pleasure. You’re my guilty pleasure. I’d rather not sleep than miss watching you sleep. The way your eyelashes flutter close and cover those blue eyes of yours. The peaceful expression on your face. The rise and fall of your chest and I remember when I fell asleep on it, the rhythmic movement lulling me to sleep. The way your lips are slightly parted and short breaths escape. I wonder if you smell just as sweet as you used to. At night, in the darkness of your room, while I cowardly hide in the shadow in the corner, the memories come to me. Memories of you. Memories of me. Memories of us. They’re all the memories I need. I’ll gladly take this piece of my life and grow old holding it close to me. I don’t need to know where I have been or where I will go. I was with you and you’re with me now. I don’t need to know what life was like before the war. I was with you. I don’t need to know the pain that was done to me. You are here with me now. There is simply no stopping me when it comes to loving you.

Another morning is on its way. I’ll go now, my love. I’ll see you in a while.

I watch you eat your breakfast cereal and drink the last milk from your bowl. I think I always loved to watch your Adam’s apple bob up and down. You lick your lips and instinctively I lick mine as well. If I concentrate hard enough I can taste you. Everything there is to taste though it’s been forever. I long to rediscover you, every ridge and bump, the way you smell. I wonder if you still make the same little sounds and I shake the thought that maybe someone else has drawn them from you in the time we’ve been apart. The look of concern and frowns on your face are not the ones I want to see but scraping my nails against the cold hard surface of the table and the whirring of that damn arm gave away the sinful attention my mind was lavishing you with. Even when you give me that pitiful look I hate, I love you.

The drawings you make are still beautiful but then again I never doubted that. I am convinced that you are and always will be the best this world has to offer. When someone said ‘you make the world a better place’ for the first time, I’m sure they were talking about you. You can add ‘you make me want to be a better man’ to that list. God, you make my heart soar even by just sitting there. How do you do that? I wish I could just walk up to you, plop down on the coach next to you and watch you. Just like old times. You used to draw me. Would you do that now too, even looking like this? I wonder but I’m afraid to ask and more so afraid of the answer. I would pose though. Just so I could watch you stick out your tongue, the serious look on your face, the way your eyes would roam my body, the way your hand grips your pencil, the way you try to do me justice as you always said. You really did mean that in more ways than one, didn’t you? Is there anyone in this world that loves someone more than I love you? Because, sweetheart, oh do I love you. I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.

Maybe I should be training but I can’t bring myself to it, getting punched or punching somebody. I’ve had enough. But I just saw you exit the gym. Jesus fucking Christ, Stevie. I’m sorry I ran the moment I saw you. You’re even more beautiful than I remember and all I remember is perfection already. How can someone look like that? But I wouldn’t do you justice if I didn’t go back further back in time. Tiny feisty thing, disheveled hair that never does what you want, frail hands, short breaths, short so I could kiss the top of your head, thin so I could wrap my arms around you and protect you. I miss that so much, being able to protect you. I would do anything to keep you safe. Anything. You have me. Don’t you know that in that big heart of yours? Please reach out for me. Your touch will melt me. I’ll comply to each and every one of your demands. I guess it’s Hydra’s loss. All they needed was you as my handler and I would have destroyed the world for you. Because there is nothing that can make me stop loving you. I followed you in the jaws of death once. I’d do it again in a heartbeat because my heart beats for you. I was born just for you. There is no greater purpose to my life. You’re the picture in the bigger picture of things.

Food doesn’t interest me. The fact that you’re at the dinner table does. It takes all I have in me to face the rest of them and sit down. It shows, I know. It’s a shame that you always see me like this, awkward, uneasy, tense. I’m not like this, sweetheart. I want to boil tasteless food with you. I want to laugh at the awfulness of it and then tell you all I need is you. You’re my fuel in life. You’re it. You’re everything. Please, reach out for me. I beg you. Can’t you tell? But I guess I’m not exactly what you’d expect of a boyfriend. Trust me, I believe you when you say I’m worth it to you. I just think you deserve better. I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to tell you. Maybe later. I’ll try. I promise. I can’t deny you my love. I never will. You’re stronger than anything I have to offer. I just need to get better, to be better. For me. For you. For us. But mostly for you.

The evening is coming and I can’t help but smile. From dusk till dawn I have you to myself. All to my selfish self, my greedy self, my wanting self. You’re mine. And I can tell you don’t give others a second glance. It gives me life. It lets me breathe. It’s a silent victory. I’m yours. You chose me. You want me. You still want me. You save yourself for me. Please save yourself. I’ll make it worth your while soon. I try and remember how to do it when I’m alone in my room. I’ll remember soon. Trust me. I won’t be able to stop loving you. You light the dark path I was on and guide me home. You warm the parts of me that are cold to the touch. You awake everything in me that was laid to rest. When you close the door to your bedroom for the night I see your pleading eyes. I know what they say, what they ask. I know they invite me in. I see the want in them. I relish it. I always make sure I’m the last person you see at night. Is that torturing you? I don’t know. You probably think so when you see the slight smile on my face that you never return but it’s because I look forward to the night. You’re mine. Only mine. Soon, my love. Soon my darkness will corrupt your sweet soul because that’s how we are, even before. You were always purer than me. I’m sorry but I can’t stop loving you. It will happen. I’ll make sure of it. I promise. When I deserve you again. But please try and read my face. Love is written all over it. Can you see it? Have faith because I will never be able to stop loving you. I simply can’t. I wouldn’t know how to.

I open the door to your room like a thief in the night but there is nothing to steal. I know deep down that everything you own is already mine. Do you know everything I am is yours too? I watch you twist and turn, pain etched on your face, your fists clenching your pillow. “Bucky…” I hear you whisper my name and it’s sweeter than honey. My eyes roll back in my head and then it hits me like lightening. Dear God, I promise. I promise you now, I promise with all I have, with all I am, that tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow I will tell you. Tomorrow I will take a deep breath and show you the pieces of myself that I stitched back together like some ugly quilt that is yours to keep. People will look at it and wonder why you want something that old and ragged and ask why you don’t throw it out and get something new, something pretty. I understand them, oh I do, but I hope you will keep me anyway. I feel naked. I feel giddy. I feel free. Tomorrow will be the day.

It was supposed to be a prank. How could I know? He caught me by surprise. I had let my guard down promising myself to you.

It dawns on me now. I thought I was getting better. I let myself believe it. I truly believed I could do it on my own but I fooled myself. Look where it got me. The light you turned on shows what a failure I truly am, a creep hiding in your room at night. Even I am unwilling to believe that I could stoop so low as to watch you sleep like my life depends on it. I have longed for so much, a touch of any kind but the look in your eyes now is like a slap in the face. And I deserve it. There’s blood on my fist. There’s blood on the floor. There are spatters on the wall. There is blood trickling down Sam’s face. The stupid bucket of water meant for Steve lying by his side. I stand here watching the scene unravel in front of my eyes. This time I’m my own man but I still can’t move. I tell myself to move but nothing happens. Maybe I’m just waiting for someone to beat me to a pulp, to receive what I deserve. Bruises and broken bones and blood seeping from wounds, it’s all I’ll ever deserve.

72…73…74…75…76…77…78… I allow myself to breath again as soon as I know he’s still breathing. I close my eyes for a brief second to let relief wash over me that I didn’t take this brave and gentle man’s soul.

“Bucky?”

His voice is soft and gentle and I want to bask in it. When I look at him, his eyes are pure. They shouldn’t be looking at something like me though I want them to every minute of the day. I want them to see me and only me. I’m selfish I know but I still feel entitled to his undivided attention. I have missed him so long already.

I see his hand slowly reaching out for me. Finally. I will finally feel his skin again. Will he still feel as warm? Will his fingertips still brush my hand as softly as they used to? Will his touch still be gentle? It all comes back at once. All of it. It washes over me like a tsunami and it takes all of me to keep my footing. I embrace the force of it, the good and the bad. The more pain, the more love, the more strings that are pulled the better. I will never get enough of you. I close my eyes and feel the corners of my mouth curl upwards ever so slightly. I can feel. I feel. I finally feel. I will finally feel him again.

“Are you kidding me?” The harshness of his voice startles me. My eyes snap open and everything I saw a moment before in the face I know by heart is gone. “You’re smiling?! SMILING?” He’s seething. The blue has turned red. The pale has turned red. The smile now snarls with teeth bared. “You could have killed him, Buck, and you’re smiling?!”

“No,” I whisper, “no.” I take a step forward. “You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand, Buck? Why don’t you tell me?” He looks so mad and I feel like crying for the first time in… I don’t know how long actually. “Tell me why the hell you were in my room! In the middle of the night! Hiding in a fucking corner!”

His voice makes me cringe like when our teacher scratched the black board with her nails. A shiver runs down my spine. He’s asking me a question to which I have no good answer, not one he will understand anyway.

“Where is he now, Steve?” Sam asks, lying in the bed in med bay.

Steve rubs his face and sighs. “He’s been hiding in his room ever since it happened.”

Sam cocks an eyebrow. “And where exactly have you been, Steve?” He looks Steve in the eye. “You know what I mean. You know your place was with him and not here with me.

“You needed me.”

“All I have is a broken nose and a mild concussion. If he really wanted to hurt me he would have killed me with that punch. It’s a bullshit excuse, Steve. You knew something like this could happen. I know Barnes’ recovery isn’t exactly what you’d expect but it is how it is. Now get out.”

He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing in front of Bucky’s door. Too long probably but what can he say? He yelled at him. He walked away from him. He didn’t check up on him. He didn’t listen to his explanation. He left him in the cold. He left him in the dark. He did exactly what he promised he would never do.

It calms him somewhat to hear Bucky’s movements on the other side. His chair creaks. He hears him huff out a breath. A pen scratches on paper and is dropped on a surface. His clothes rustle. A zipper closes. Straps are being pulled. Steve leans his head against the door and listens to his breathing. God knows how much that used to calm him down. God knows how he longs for those breaths to fan across his neck, over his lips. Only God knows.

There are lots of things only God and Steve know. The way his fingers itch and his bones hurt from longing to touch Bucky. The way his lips tingle when he thinks about Bucky’s lips on his again. The way a fire spreads across his skin and spreads fiercely from head to toe when he sees him walking around barefoot, hair lose, lost in peaceful thoughts. The way his heart almost leaps out of his chest when he catches him looking at him, hoping against hope that he will reach out and touch him.

Steve will never forgive himself for getting lost in thoughts for so long. He will never forgive himself for waiting so long to reach out for him.

“Longing”

“Rusted”

“Bucky?” Steve’s eyes widen in shock and he finds the door locked.

“Seventeen”

“Daybreak”

His heart is hammering in his chest. This cannot be happening. What exactly is happening? Who is in there?

“Furnace”

“Nine”

“BUCKY!” He pounds on the door, screaming his name. “BUCK! BUCKY!”

“Benign”

Steve breaks down the door and lands on the floor. He gazes up at Bucky, his Bucky with a lost look on his face, tears in his eyes. He’s holding a recording device in his hands, an unknown voice saying the feared words. When Bucky’s notices Steve eyes fall upon it, he cries.

“Homecoming”

“No no no no…” Steve scrambles to his knees and rushes over to Bucky. He knows he’s out of time. Only two more to go. Two lousy words. He’s standing right in front of Bucky now and instinctively reaches out his hand.

Bucky’s eyes snap towards the hand that stops mere inches from his face. He wants to lean into the touch. It’s all he ever wanted. It’s all he craved and yearned and longed for, for months now. But he can’t move. You’re a fool, Buck, he thinks to himself, the last bit of himself he still has. So he tries to fight it. His eyes blinking rapidly and desperation rages through his body. His body is convulsing. His lips forms Steve’s name but nothing comes out.

“One”

“Sweetheart, no,” Steve chokes out. Tears are streaming down his face and he closes the final inch and his fingers brush Bucky’s cheek.

“Freight car”

It’s over. It’s over again before it started. He takes a step forward and without fear he holds Bucky’s face in his hands. He doesn’t know the mission of the winter soldier and he doesn’t care either. Without Bucky there is no Steve. Till the end of the line, right?

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

“Goodmorning Soldat.”

The voice comes from the little recording device in Bucky’s hand and it’s Bucky’s voice this time. What is going on? Steve’s grip on Bucky’s face tightens when Bucky’s eyes snap open and stare right into his eyes but see nothing and no-one. Bucky answers.

“Ready to comply.”

Steve is shaking Bucky frantically. How fucked up is it Bucky activates the winter soldier himself? How much has he disappointed his lover to make him do that? And Bucky himself explains it through his own words he recorded earlier.

“Your mission is to keep Steven Grant Rogers safe from harm, from yourself. You will not go near him. You will not touch him. You will not speak to him. You will hide yourself from him. You will not hurt him. You will forget him. You will,” Bucky’s voice breaks, “stop loving him.”

The device drops from Bucky’s hands. He comes out of his trance like state. He didn’t turn himself in the old winter soldier but Steve doesn’t know if that’s better because now the love of his life looks him right in the eye, pain and hurt in them, but steps back. Steve follows him, stepping forward only to have Bucky step away from him again. It’s like they dance their own dance of despair, of finding and losing, of coming and leaving, of protecting and hurting. It’s only when Bucky hits the wall that he executes his self-imposed mission. His left hand hits Steve in the chest with an unexpected and determined force pushing him back and he brushes past him.

“Bucky, no. Please no. Don’t do this to me, to us.” He grabs his arm making him stop. “Please, come back to me. Don’t leave. Just don’t.”

He lets out a relieved sigh when Bucky takes his wrist but the grip is too tight. Before he knows it Bucky has turned him around and presses his chest to his back holding him in a headlock. Steve tries to grip Bucky’s arm trying to break free but to no avail. He doesn’t even know if he wants to break free. It’s the first time since he found him that he’s felt his skin on his. His tears fall on the sleeves of Bucky’s shirt and he slips into unconsciousness. While his body slumps against Bucky’s, the latter holds him upright. His own tears draw wet streaks in Steve’s hair and with calculated moves he places Steve on his bed, like a sleeping beauty. He grabs his backpack that he prepared filled with food, clothes, money. He’s leaving as a civilian, the only mission to carry out is leaving Steve, is dying inside. But when he prepared for this, he couldn’t find it in his heart to leave Steve with nothing.

When Steve wakes up, he stays in Bucky’s bed, curled up in a ball in bed sheets that still smell like him. He doesn’t want to look around the room. He doesn’t want to see the device that turned his lover into a stranger. He doesn’t understand where he got the recording of a handler activating the triggers. He doesn’t want to see the notebooks he left on his desk.

When the sun sets and darkness covers the world, Steve sees a little light. It illuminates a picture frame. How he finds the strength to walk over he doesn’t know but his heart constricts in his chest when he notices the picture of Bucky and him in the army, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, cheeks pressed against each other’s, toothy smiles. Next to it there’s a notepad.

My love,

I can’t leave you without telling why I was in your room that night. I wasn’t just there that night. I was there every night. I’m sorry. You asked me why. Here’s why.

To watch you sleep.

To try and work up the courage to touch you.

To chase our memories that come back slowly.

To keep the nightmares at bay.

To make me feel safe like you always made me feel when you were close.

To feel want.

To own my love for you again.

Because being close feels like you chase away my demons.

To be close to you because we’ve been apart for too long.

Because I long to share that bed with you.

Because I want to love you in that bed.

Because you’re the hope to my despair.

Because I love you.

Because I can’t stop loving you.

Because I’m with you till the end of the line.

I ask only one thing of you. Please don’t forget me. If you do it’ll be like I never existed, like we never existed. No matter what happened, I feel like we deserve to be remembered, that we mattered. At least you always mattered to me. Tell Sam I’m sorry.

Forever yours,

Your Bucky

TAGLIST: @callamint @laterthantherabbit @aubzylynn @you-and-bucky @harleyqueen7 @beccaanne814-blog @hardcorehippos @ursulaismymiddlename @buckyywiththegoodhair @hellomissmabel @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @abovethesmokestacks @eve1978 @winterboobaer @howiseethesethings @melconnor2007 @s8sense @50shadesofyes @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @10kindsofderp @thatawkwardtinyperson

BROKEN TAGS: @brokennoone (sorry girl)

#stucky fic #steve x bucky #kate’s cards against humanity challenge #stucky #reach out for me #stucky fanfic #stucky imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #captain america #bucky barnes #stucky fanfiction #Steve Rogers #hopkirk writes #masterlist

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