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onyxiana-is-obsessed · 4 years ago

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To Fall for the King | Izuku Midoriya x Reader

AN: Hello! This is another discord prompt! This month was a Royal AU and I had so much fun writing this! This is MY LONGEST FIC! I’m proud! Also, I got inspiration from the otome game Midnight Cinderella from Louis’ after story route and Byron’s main story. There are no spoilers through!

Length: 10.2k

Summary: You are first born royal of (k/n) and king Izuku from Toral has proposed to you. The marriage is simply to unite your two kingdoms but not long after, you find yourself falling for the stoic king.

Warning??? Izuku is OOC BUT based on the story it would be normal! Enjoy!!

“With this marriage, we have united both (k/n) and Toral!” At the words of your father, the crowd burst into a loud cheer, which was almost deafening. It was enough to bury your sorrow deep down as you looked upon the loyal citizens of your kingdoms. Your eyes glanced at the man next to you- your husband- but he was looking straight ahead with a fake smile, waving at everyone.

Izuku Midoriya was the current king of Toral and had been since his father passed away and his mother stepped down. Before the passing of the late king, they had approached (k/n) with a proposal, one you didn’t like from the beginning. They wanted a marriage to create an alliance between your kingdoms. Your parents were on board but hadn’t confirmed anything without asking you.

You didn’t want to marry Izuku, you’d barely known him and your parents were all for it… except you had no one else. Being a (princess/prince) who would succeed the throne kept you busy, you were learning the ins and outs of becoming (queen/king). Busy enough that you never had a chance to fall in love on your own.

Toral was a very powerful kingdom, with a strong army and an amazing, thriving economy. You hated the idea of marrying Izuku for the sole purposes of uniting kingdoms… but it’s not like you had anyone else waiting for you. In fact, you were getting older and hadn’t had the opportunity to fall in love. Toral would’ve made a great ally and that was your reasoning for what you did. You accepted the proposal, ready to marry Izuku for your kingdom. For your people.

The thing was, he was just as busy as you. Your families had set up a date for you… but sadly king Hisashi passed away before you could. Toral had to grieve and move on extremely quickly, meaning Izuku had to take the throne. Queen Inko kept her throne up until the marriage. One day prior to it, Izuku was crowned king of Toral and queen Inko stepped down, making room for you.

Here you stood, minutes after your wedding, looking down at all people from both kingdoms. They looked so happy and you wished you could feel even an ounce of that happiness. Tears threatened to fall from your beautiful (e/c) eyes, tears that could easily be mistaken for tears of joy. Like Izuku, you forced a smile on your face and waved to the adorning crowd. One stray tear slid down, however, no matter how hard you wished to keep it in.

***

You sat on the bed, looking down at your hands in your lap as the tears dripped down your cheeks. You were currently in your new bedroom in your temporary home. Your parents still reigned over your country, which made you move away with Izuku to his, since he was king there. In a few weeks, you’d be crowned (king/queen) and your kingdoms would unite with a new castle being created in the middle of both territories. That would be your permanent home.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. You were supposed to be jumping for joy… yet here you sat in your wedding (dress/suit) crying your eyes out as the sorrowful atmosphere got thicker. From the day you were born, you were taught this was normal. This WAS the norm for royalty, often to unite kingdoms. But that didn’t mean you were happy about it. After all that happened today, you could no longer keep up the facade.

Right now was your honeymoon night and thankfully, Izuku was called away for business. Which both of you were happy for. Izuku was… hard to read. He was quiet, he didn’t look at you often, and he didn’t really express many emotions either. This was the curse of royalty, something your parents steered you away from. Becoming a stone statue, giving up your wants for the needs of your people.

You’d heard rumors that Izuku had fallen in love with a beautiful princess- some say she was a commoner- however, because of (k/n), he was forced to abandon her. The thought made your heart ache. You couldn’t imagine the pain he must’ve gone through, assuming the rumors were true. Of course, the only way to confirm the rumors was to ask him, but you just… couldn’t. You barely talked, even in a professional setting. How could you ask such a sensitive question?

You stood from your spot on the bed and walked towards the balcony. You opened the doors and stepped out, the cool breeze helped your hot face. Your eyes looked up at the sea of stars before looking down at the kingdom. You could see the beautiful lights and if you paid attention, you could hear the celebration of the united kingdoms.

You had 3 days to get acquainted with the castle before you were going to start on your duties to become (king/queen). Currently, your title was still (princess/prince) but once you’d learned the adequate knowledge about Toral, as Izuku would about (k/n), you would be able to become (king/queen). A proud ruler next to Izuku.

Who was Izuku? You… didn’t know. Toral wasn’t a kingdom that was shrouded in mystery like some others were, but it’s royal family was. Not much was known about the Midoriya’s, however, there weren’t many negative rumors, which was a good sign. Your predicament remained, you were now married to a man you knew nothing about. Even though he wasn’t a tyrant, you didn’t feel safe.

How were you supposed to rule a kingdom with someone you don’t know? How were you supposed to wake up next to someone you don’t know? How were… how was this marriage supposed to work?

You didn’t even have your parents to rely on and it hurt. You were completely alone in this new kingdom and you only had three days to adjust to all of this. Three short days.

You could see your own kingdom in the distance. Well… you could see the lights, but that was it. You missed it and wished you could just… run away. Jump down from the balcony and run home, just like in the story books. This was reality, though, and something like that would never happen.

You jumped, almost letting out a scream when you felt something fall onto your shoulders. You quickly grabbed it and sighed in relief when you saw it was just a blanket. You looked to the side to see Izuku leaning against the balcony, looking ahead at his kingdom.

“Wh-what-“

“You’ll catch a cold if you stand out here without one.” He answered curtly, without even looking at you.

“Oh, thank you.” You said, pulling the blanket around your shoulders some more. You hadn't even noticed you were cold. A silence fell between you two, and it was one you didn’t like. He didn’t really bother to make much conversation and he wasn’t even looking at you.

You snuck a glance at him, taking in his features. He had a boyish face, with dark green hair that almost looked blue under the moonlight. His green eyes seemed to hold something you couldn’t decipher in them, but they were beautiful. He was… handsome, you had to admit. That was one good thing about this, at least your husband was attractive.

“Um…” you started, unsure of what to say. Izuku finally looked over at you, his eyes meeting yours. “What do you think about this? The m-marriage, I mean.”

“It’s an alliance.” He responded, before looking away again. That’s all? That’s all he could give you?

“I mean how do you feel about this?”

“There’s nothing to feel. We’re married so our kingdoms could live in harmony and thrive together. The marriage is nothing else.” Ok, that hurt. You could feel the dread building up in your chest as you swallowed the lump in your throat. His cold response only made you want to cry even more. You held strong and nodded, unsure if he even saw it or not. You didn’t want him to see your tears, you didn’t want him to see you as someone weak.

As much as it hurt, he was right. Your marriage was nothing but a treaty, and there were no emotions attached to it. It was an ugly truth you had to come to terms with if you wanted to be able to move forward. You so desperately wanted to ask about that rumor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Before you knew it, Izuku was retreating back into your bedroom.

“It’s late and I’m tired. I’ll head to bed first.” Without waiting for your answer, he was gone. You only sighed as you looked up at the sky, the glittering stars that seemed so far away.

“Take me away from here…” you whispered, silently begging for a happier end.

***

When you woke up in the morning, Izuku wasn’t there. You’d heard from your personal butler that he was busy and had been woken up earlier than usual. You didn’t have any complaints, sleeping next to him was already hard enough.

The maid, Yana, offered to show you around the castle, which you graciously accepted. She showed you all the important rooms and locations. You’d even walked past Izuku’s study where you saw him busy with some documents and chose not to bother him.

“If I may,” Yana started, looking at you, “You don’t seem very happy for a person who just got married yesterday.” Unsure if you could trust her, you chose to lie this time, forcing a smile onto your face.

“Oh I am! I’m just still getting used to everything! It’s a really big change.” It was clear Yana didn’t buy it, but she didn’t press further on the subject. The last thing she wanted to do was offend the future ruler.

After showing you around, she led you back to your bedroom and went to go prepare some tea. You sat down on the couch in your room and sighed, looking around.

You only saw Izuku once all morning and you weren’t even able to talk to him. Was this going to be your marriage? Were you just going to talk to your husband in professional settings? Would you ever even be friends with him? That thought hurt, you weren’t even on friendly terms with the man you were sharing a bed with. You shook your head and tried to think about something else, your new position for example.

After these three days, you’d have classes for two weeks in which you’d learn everything you could about Toral. Their economy, their farmlands, their trades, and about other kingdoms they were allied with. Similarly, Izuku would learn everything he could about (k/n). Because of this, you would barely see Izuku for two weeks.

You frowned at your own thoughts. You seemed so obsessed with the king, it made you wonder if he thought about you. Did he often wonder what you were thinking? Did he often think about you? Last night, when he brought out the blanket for you, was he worried? Was there a chance for anything to form between you two? Or would this loveless marriage last for the rest of your life?

***

You were alone all day, except for the company of your attendant. You neither saw Izuku nor heard from him. You spent a couple hours on the balcony once again at night hoping for a change in your life before ultimately giving up and heading to bed.

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you’d caught a glimpse of Izuku laying down next to you before you’d gone back to sleep. Of course, when you woke up the next day, he was gone. Again. This continued on til the third and final day.

While you were getting ready for the day, you wondered if there was anything you could do to break the wall that stood between you and your husband.

“Hey Yana?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Are you bringing that tea to King Izuku?”

“I am, why?”

“Can I take it to him instead?” She immediately shook her head, her eyes widening.

“Oh no! I couldn’t trouble you! I’ll take it to h-“

“Please. I insist. I… don’t know any other way to interact with him…” you frowned, falling silent. What were you doing? You looked up at her, before speaking again. “Wh-what’s he like?” Yana smiled a little and sat next to you.

“King Izuku’s not all that bad, you know. He’s very kind and gentle. Unfortunately, because of his life as a prince, he’s been… forced to push personal matters down to focus on what’s best for his kingdom. He is very… quiet. He doesn’t talk much and he doesn’t seem very nice either, but I promise you. It’s only a matter of time before you see it. It’ll be hard not to fall in love.” You almost laughed at her words, looking away.

“Fall in love, huh? Seems… impossible.”

“You’re not wrong to think so. When the idea of marriage was brought up, I was there. His highness didn’t seem to even blink at the fact that he would be in a loveless marriage. But I know, deep down, he must’ve felt something. He just couldn’t say it.” You knew that feeling. You had the freedom to reject Toral, but chose to accept them instead. Izuku had done the same. You were more alike than you thought.

“He seems pretty cold-hearted.” Though you were afraid to offend Yana, you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking. Thankfully, Yana didn’t take it personally.

“He’s just shy. His shyness plus him pushing down his emotions makes him seem like that, but he’s not. He’s always believed in justice. He’s always wanted to be the reason people smiled. He’s definitely ready to be king, I’m sure overtime, he’ll be able to open up again. At least, I hope he does.”

Is that so? Izuku… wanted people to keep smiling? Seemed a little bit… odd given your interaction with him a couple of nights ago. Maybe there was more to him you had yet to see. As much as you disliked being in this marriage, you wanted it to work. You wanted to fall in love with him and you wanted to rule beside a man that you at least LIKED.

Taking a deep breath, you made an oath to yourself. You would do everything in your power to meet Izuku halfway.

***

“Come in.” A deep voice said, making you push the door open and walk in. Izuku was staring at some papers on his desk, looking back and forth between the ones in his hands as well. “Yana can you- oh.” He paused when he saw you, his emerald eyes widening a little.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to bring you your tea, myself.” You said, placing the tray on the desk, away from the documents.

“That’s alright, but why wouldn’t you want the maid to do it?” He inquired, placing the documents aside. You blinked at his question, expecting it but not having a definitive answer for it.

“I uh… um…” you sat down on the chair in front of the desk and tried to come up with a proper response. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“What?” Yeah… your mind said the same thing. What the hell were you talking about? Taking a deep breath, you tried to put your thoughts into discernible sentences.

“We… haven’t really talked, in general. Every time we’re together, it feels like an awkward silence. The only time we’ve had a lengthy conversation was when we were exchanging our vows.” You could see a frown forming on the king’s face as he looked down for a moment. However, he quickly reverted to his emotionless state.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I just assumed you wouldn’t want to talk to me.” That was news to you, but you didn’t even have to ask why he said that. It was his family that brought up the arranged marriage. He could always see that you didn’t like it, whether it was him or the situation, but your reluctance was as clear as day. You, yourself, didn’t bother to hide it.

Now it was your turn to frown, not realizing that Izuku was just trying to comfort you in anyway he could. To him, he’d practically held a sword to your throat and demanded a wedding, but that wasn’t true.

“That’s not it,” you clarified, meeting his bright green eyes. “I had the ability to reject the proposal but I chose to accept instead. All of my own accord.” Izuku really didn’t have an answer, but you saw something cross his eyes. Was that… sadness? Why would he be sad? You tried to tell him his assumptions weren’t true.

“I see…” was all he could say. You tried to keep your disappointment down as you poured him, and yourself, a cup of tea. After a moment of silence, you spoke up.

“What are you working on?”

“I wanted to build a bride over the Toral river. The river makes it harder for merchants to cross it. I thought it would make life easier for everyone who lives on the other side.” Well that was a rather noble cause. However, he looked overly stressed about this, even though it seemed like it was something simple. He’s the king, all he needs to do is demand the bridge be built, right?

“Why do you look so stressed though?” He looked up at you again, before writing something down on the document in hand

“That part of the land is owned by another noble. Unfortunately, he’s neither using it nor permitting us to build the bridge. I know for a fact life’s easier for him without the bridge, that’s why he keeps saying no.”

“What would he get out of not having the bridge?”

“He’s really just a greedy and selfish noble. Besides, the location where we want to build the bridge is pretty far off from his estate, so he doesn’t have that excuse.” However, after saying those words, Izuku froze. He fell deep into thought, his brows furrowing.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, slowly, not wanting to break his train of thought. He was silent for another moment, before he looked up at you.

“(Princess/Prince), if you had a land where your leading monarch wanted to build a bridge… Why would you say no? Even if you weren’t using the land.”

“Hmm… well I would only say no if I was using it. Maybe if I was doing something I didn’t want you to know about.” You nonchalantly responded, before your own eyes widened. “Do you think he’s doing something illegal on those lands?”

“He would. Why else would he be so adamant on keeping lands he doesn’t use. According to him, it’s land passed down for generations. If he truly isn’t doing anything on it, then wouldn’t his lack of activity be an insult?”

“I would think so. If he cares so much, he’d always do something on it. At least, take care of it.” For the first time, Izuku smiled at you. A real, genuine smile. He promptly stood up and grabbed some documents.

“I’m sorry for cutting this short, but I have an idea of what to do. However, to thank you for helping me through this, would you go on a date with me, later this evening? I believe it’s your last day to rest before you start work? And you have yet to see our city.” Your heart leapt in your chest as a smile came over your lips.

“I would love to, King Izuku.” The monarch smiled once again before leaving the room. You looked down at the cup of tea in front of you as you felt your cheeks warm up. A date, later today, with your husband. You didn’t hate the idea, you didn’t dread waiting, and in fact, you didn’t want to wait.

The entire day was spent hoping the time would come for when Izuku took you out on your little date.

***

“You look wonderful, (Princess/Prince).” Yana commented, her eyes looking over your form. You were wearing (a simple dress/jeans with a silk shirt). You’d changed out of the formal wear you had to wear around the castle into something more comfortable, while still showing off your noble status.

“Thank you,” you smiled, looking at yourself in the mirror. You could see the giddiness in your eyes, and you didn’t want to hide it. For the first time in years, especially since you got married, you were extremely happy. It felt so odd, but so good.

There was a knock at your door, pulling you from your thoughts. Yana quickly walked over and opened the door. You saw a smiling Hiro on the other side. He was an apprentice butler at the castle and he was doing a great job. He and Yana were good friends of yours, already.

“Ready, your highness?” You nodded as Yana waved to you before you followed Hiro downstairs to the foyer, where you saw Izuku waiting. He was talking to Noel, the Royal Guard Captain about something, before they both looked over and saw you. Both of them gave you a smile, which you returned.

“Are you ready?” Izuku asked, making you nod as you took his hand. He led you out to the carriage that awaited you two, helping you climb in first before getting inside, himself. You saw Noel get on his horse next to your carriage and all the way to the city, he followed beside you two.

“You look happy,” Izuku commented, looking at you. Your cheeks flushed red and you heard him chuckle as he looked out the window beside him. “Cute…” he muttered.

“Thank you so much for doing this, I hope it’s not too much.” You said, making him look back at you. You noted his gaze was much more gentle than before, which added to the hope building up in your chest.

“You’re my spouse, I was more than happy to do this. Besides, I needed a break from all that paperwork.” His words prompted a question you’d had for a while and this seemed like the perfect time to ask.

“You’ve been king since 18, correct?” Izuku nodded at your words before slightly leaning back to be a bit comfortable.

“Officially, yes. However, I have been helping my mother since I was 15. When my father fell ill, I often helped my mother with his portion of work. Of course, I myself, couldn’t sign off of anything since I was still a young child, but I helped her with all the documents. I would read them for her and give her a summary for it all, along with what I thought would be the proper decision. Sometimes, she took my views under consideration and sometimes she would trust my judgement.” Wow, he’s been working since he was a kid. He really was ready to be a king. He… never really had a childhood, but then again, you didn’t either.

You weren’t making decisions, but ever since you were young, you’d been training to take over the throne. After the age of ten, you were an extremely busy child and hopefully all that work would pay off. Tomorrow, you’d be learning everything you could about Toral so you could be (queen/king).

“That… must’ve been hard.” You said, barely above a whisper. His emerald eyes found yours and you saw something that broke your heart. You could see the loneliness.

“It’s… our job.” He responded, looking away from you and back out into the window. You’d seen Izuku before becoming a little acquainted with him and he never showed off his emotions. So, he must’ve willingly let you see what he felt and it made your heart sink.

***

“Wow, it’s beautiful out here.” You said as Izuku led you through the city. Toral’s cities were known for their vibrancy and beauty, and the stories were no lies.

“Thank you. As you know, we pride ourselves on our country’s natural beauty.” Izuku commented as he continued forward. You were currently holding onto his arm as the two of you walked, making you feel warm inside. You actually felt like you were a couple on a date. Your eyes traveled to the sky which was a mix of red, orange, and yellow. It was getting late, which meant you’d have to head back soon and that thought made you a little sad. You were having so much fun.

“Oh, King Izuku, what’s that?” You asked, gesturing to a dessert stand in the distance. He looked over, seeing the item you were talking about and smiled a little.

“Those are dragon cakes.” He said, making you look at him with wide eyes. He almost chuckled in amusement when he saw the excited expression you sent him.

“Dragon cakes? I’ve never heard of them!”

“They’re a Toral specialty. Don’t worry, no dragons were harmed in the creation of said dessert.” He said matter-of-factly, making you giggle as the two of you walked closer to the stand. The owner looked towards you and smiled brightly.

“King Izuku! (Prince/Princess) (f/n)! Welcome!”

“We’d like the dragon cakes please.” The man nodded, happily packing two boxes of the cakes as Izuku dropped a few silver coins onto the table as the man placed two spoons onto the top of your boxes.

“Thank you! Please come again!” As you two walked ahead, you looked back and smiled when you saw Noel and his men buying a couple of cakes too. How cute.

The two of you found a nice seat in front of a beautiful garden as you ate your cake. You eagerly opened the box and smiled at the beautiful mix of colors on the dessert. Quickly picking up a small piece, you placed it into your mouth and smiled at the taste. It was extremely sweet, the flavor bursting in your mouth.

“Like it?” Izuku asked with a smile, making you turn and quickly nod.

“I love it! It’s delicious!” He chuckled and turned to you as you took another bite. The wind ruffled his hair a little and the golden glow from the sun made him look like an angel.

“Does (k/n) have a special dessert?” He inquired, making you fall into thought for a moment. You hadn’t really left your country, so you weren’t too sure about what everyone else had, but you did have a very famous dessert.

“We have (dessert)! I’m not sure if other countries have it, but it’s very popular! Almost like a celebratory dessert, people often buy it on special occasions.”

“I’ve never had it before, so I’ll definitely have to try it.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice a little. “Do not tell Noel or Matsuo, they limit the amount of sweets I can have.” His childish tone made you burst out laughing and he feigned offense. “I’m being serious! Stop laughing!”

“I c-can’t help it! That’s so cute!” You said, leaning closer to him. The back of your hand, which held your spoon, pressed against your lips as you tried to stop laughing to no avail. Matsuo was his advisor and had been the previous king’s advisor. He was a rather strict man, but he was also kind and understanding.

“Keep that up and I’ll be using you as a means of distraction in my nightly escapades to the kitchen.” No way… you looked at Izuku with wide eyes and a big smile. He didn’t even bother to deny it!

“You steal candy from your own house?!” Your laughter increased and soon Izuku joined in. He couldn’t help it, your laugh was lovely and contagious. Just thinking about a cute little Izuku sneaking down to the kitchen to steal candy from his own house was just hilarious and so adorable. Especially as an adult, a king no less.

You looked over at the king, who’d almost seemed heartless the first night you spent together. He was… beautiful. His face and personality. Yana was right, he really wasn’t as cold as he acted. In fact, it didn’t seem like it was hard for Izuku to show his emotions. Life of nobility often brought situations where it wasn’t appropriate to show emotions, he probably just didn’t realize it was ok to turn that off when he was with you. As you watched his cheeks turn red from the laughter and the golden glow around him increase, you wished this moment would last an eternity.

How could you hide such a beautiful sight from the world? You thought as his musical laughter echoed around you.

***

Alas, your date had come to an end. The two of you returned home together, however, you went to your bedroom alone. Izuku had some work to do, but he promised to join you in an hour or so.

You had changed into your nightwear and sat down on the bed, when your eyes glanced outside of the window. Tonight was a full moon, yes?

You stood and walked to the balcony doors and opened them, stepping out into the cold night. You walked forward and stared out towards the city. Once again, the lights were shining bright and even now, the city looked so alive.

Your eyes moved up to see the gleaming stars winking at you and the bright moon smiling down. Tonight was different, though.

The first night you were here, all you could think about was someone stealing you away from this fate you’d chosen and regretted. Now… all you wished was to be with Izuku. Today was the first time you two had experienced each other in a natural setting. Izuku opened up about himself and you finally saw past the King. You finally saw the man named Izuku.

You wanted more of these nights. You wanted more dates where you could spend time getting to know Izuku or nights where you could just talk to him.

You smiled at the moon, the stars, and the city in the distance. You opened your mouth, speaking to no one in particular.

“I think… I’d like to stay here.” Your cheeks turned red when you thought about your husband and happiness flooded your chest when you thought back to his angelic laughter.

You liked Izuku, didn’t you? That was great news, you’d hoped he felt the same. If this kept up with you two, then you’d surely fall in love soon enough.

As your mind went on thinking about other date scenarios, you failed to notice a figure behind you. Just as before, something fell around your shoulders and you jumped, only to realize it was a blanket. You held the blanket closer and smiled to yourself.

“Don’t wanna catch a cold now, your majesty.” Your blood ran cold and you froze, the smile disappearing in an instant.

That wasn’t Izuku.

You turned frantically and saw a man with black hair and bright blue eyes, smiling at you.

“Wh-who are you?” Your voice was shaky and any attempt to make yourself sound confident failed miserably.

“Oh? I am no one you should worry your pretty little head over, my dear. How… is your relationship going with the king?” The bright moonlight reflected on something that sat on his waist… a sword? No… a gun.

“I-it’s great…” you answered as the man approached you, making you back up until you hit the rail behind you. He smelled… nice, actually. His scent was a mixture of a cologne with something floral, almost like roses but not quite.

“Has he brought up his old love, yet?” Oh… no, you hadn’t been able to bring up such a sensitive question up to him. Not yet.

“N-no…”

“Worry not, your majesty, I will inform you on the subject.” He said with a smile, which sent shivers down your spine. “King Izuku had met a lovely dame in the city once. It was a day off, something that’s rare for him, when he decided to visit the lovely town. He had managed to escape from Noel and the other guards when he ran into a woman. She was carrying flowers in a basket. The collision caused the two to fall to the ground, her over him. It was a rather romantic scene where the woman quickly apologized but the king only laughed. Love at first sight, would you believe it?

Eventually, the two couldn’t stay apart. Izuku visited her as much as he could, even going so far as to sneak out of the castle. The two would meet for over two years like this before they finally confessed. That’s when the king bedded the innocent maiden, both of them promising each other their hearts and bodies. They would belong to each other no matter the outcome of their lives.” His blue eyes met yours again, and he smiled brightly at the anguish he saw on your face.

“I-it's all j-just a rumor…” you whispered, as the tears started to well up in your eyes. The man leaned down and whispered into your ear.

“Is it, your highness?” Your gaze fell to the floor as the tears slowly rolled down your cheeks.

“... No…” He laughed a little, pulling away and taking your face in his hands. You wanted to slap his hands away. You wanted to shove him off of you. You wanted to get away. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to even think properly, your legs were frozen, your hands were shaking, so you just let him do as he pleased.

His warm fingers wiped away your oncoming tears and he put on a frown, but you could see the amusement in his eyes.

“Your majesty, I can take you away from all of this. You need only ask.” Before you could say anything, your bedroom door burst open and you saw an extremely furious Izuku.

“(F/N)! YOU GET AWAY FROM HER!” The man made a displeased face and shoved you forward as a distraction before jumping off the balcony. Izuku caught you before you hit the ground, holding you close to him protectively as he glared in the direction the man had gone.

“King Izuku?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, as you looked up at him.

“Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?” You shook your head, making his glare soften. He sighed as he wiped away the tears that were still sliding down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I was late.” You buried your face in his chest and clung to his shirt as he gently ran his hands through your hair to calm you down.

***

Noel and the other guards searched the castle grounds numerous times but weren’t able to find anything. One good piece of news was that they knew of the man, everyone did, especially Izuku. His name was Dabi and he was a well-known thief and bounty hunter. It was odd that Dabi would come to you, you neither had a bounty on your head nor were you really of value, yet. Dabi refused to steal anything that wasn’t worth any value.

Izuku stayed with you all night, trying to help you sleep but failed. You were too scared and your tears wouldn’t stop. Of course, Izuku thought it was because you were scared, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Yes, you were terrified, but you were hurt. This woman… and Izuku promised their hearts and bodies to each other, no matter the outcome? Meaning… Even now when Izuku was technically married to you, he wasn’t yours nor did it seem like he planned on becoming yours.

Why did that hurt so much? You barely knew each other and just earlier today you were saying it was impossible to fall in love with him. Yet here you were, heartbroken? Were you starting to fall for him? Even so, with such little time, why were you so hurt? Sure, even if you had a crush… it shouldn’t feel like this.

Izuku laid next to you, running his hand through your hair, trying his best to soothe you. He even had some tissues nearby to wipe your tears. Hiro had brought you both some tea earlier, to help you calm down and sleep. However, it didn’t help. You weren’t able to drink much and all you could think about was the words Dabi had said to you.

“Will you let me hold you, (princess/prince)?” Izuku inquired softly. You both had kept a good distance from each other in bed and even now, he’d reached across to your side to pat your head. Your eyes met and all you could see was what Dabi told you, yet your body moved all on its own. You nodded and scooted closer, to which he opened his arms and pulled you into him.

He was so warm and just the sensation of his arms around you was enough to drive your tears away. Dabi’s words returned to your mind for the umpteenth time, but… you didn’t care. Not this time. You closed your eyes as you leaned into him, letting him take away all your worries. So what if Izuku promised his heart and body to someone else? Yours belonged to him, regardless.

***

The next morning Matsuo suggested you take another day off to recover from the fright the previous night, but you refused, saying you preferred to start your lessons instead. Yana, Hiro, and even Izuku opposed your idea, but you’d made up your mind.

Your lessons weren’t very hard, it was just a matter of memorization. Toral had a rather rich history and for the most part, you loved to hear all about it. Your teacher was a bureaucrat named Mirio Togata that worked closely with King Izuku at times. With the insight your instructor provided, you were able to understand how Toral came to be such a powerful kingdom with it’s flourishing economy and numerous allied countries.

It was nothing less than impressive. Thanks to Mirio, you were also able to learn more about Izuku and the Midoriya family, including where your place would be. One of the things you learned, which couldn’t have made you happier, was that you weren’t expected to provide an heir. Toral’s nobility had a history of adopting and you were no exception. However, you would need someone to succeed the throne at some point, which you were ok with.

The entire day was exhausting and all you did was spend it with Mirio as he taught you everything you needed to know. Around 8 pm, your lessons came to an end for the day. You were in your room with Hiro, who, of course, made you some tea and even had snacks ready for you. Ever since the incident, you weren’t allowed to be alone. For the most part, Hiro accompanied you everywhere, but Noel also carried that duty. Whenever you left the castle, even if you were just walking around the gardens, Noel followed you. Every time you moved about the castle, there was a knight or two nearby.

Everyone, especially Izuku, was on high alert. You weren’t allowed to be alone, not even for a second. Unfortunately, since Dabi was able to sneak into the castle, the castle wasn’t the safest place. Both Hiro and Yana had plenty of combat experience to guard you, and since you were friends, that made the bothersome experience tolerable.

“Are you ok, your highness?” You blinked and looked over at a worried Hiro, quickly giving him a smile.

“Yes, I’m ok. Just thinking.” You answered as you picked up your cup and sipped the tea. Hiro nodded, not wanting to press further.

“King Izuku should be here in about an hour. He prefers to be around you when it’s late. I hope you don’t mind.” You shook your head and smiled.

“Not at all, I appreciate it.” Of course, the entire day all you could think about was this “innocent maiden” that the king had fallen in love with. Who was she? What was she like? Was she pretty? Strong? Talented? Was she better than you?

Thoughts of her made focusing on what Mirio said extremely difficult. You did your best to push down any insecurities but how could you? Why couldn’t you? You barely knew Izuku but here you were, ridiculously messed up.

From the story, it was clear that King Izuku couldn’t be with her, so were you just a replacement? Maybe that’s why he accepted the proposal, he didn’t want anyone but her but he couldn’t have her. The thought brought an intense ache in your heart. Were you… just a replacement? Why? Sure, he may have loved that woman but… he could love you too, right?

You could feel the pain spread to your chest and you looked down as the tears returned. God, you were so weak. You really couldn’t get a hold of yourself, could you?

“Y-Your highness!” Hiro exclaimed, rushing to you when he saw your tears. He knelt in front of you and frowned. “Why are you crying?” Your eyes met his bright blue ones and you mulled over your thoughts. Could you tell him? Could Hiro be trusted with this information?

“Hiro. Tell me about the rumors about the king falling in love with another woman.” He looked taken aback, but nodded, regardless. It wasn’t like he could refuse someone crying the way you were.

“Even we haven’t been able to confirm whether the rumors are true,” Hiro said, swallowing hard, “the rumor is that King Izuku met the woman in town on his day off. They collided into one another and fell in love at first sight. King Izuku would sneak out to meet her and when he wanted to marry her, he was rejected. Both Queen Inko and King Hisashi we’re against it, so they weren’t able to get married.

Other rumors say she was a criminal. The woman, that’s why they couldn’t be together. I’ve known King Hisashi and Queen Inko since I was a child and I know they wouldn’t reject someone King Izuku loved, no matter her status. Which is why the first story is also not very plausible.

The third rumor is that she was a princess and she was already meant to marry someone else. In the two years they spent together, they fell deeply in love but in the end, they had to part. She wouldn’t let go, saying she couldn’t live with her heart and body belonging to a man she didn’t love. So, to do the only thing he could, king Izuku claimed her body and heart, saying that now they were with someone she did love.” Hiro fell silent after the story, indicating he was done talking. You were silent as well, thinking about what he said. Ok… so that was romantic, even though you hated it

The last rumor matched what Dabi has said with one difference. The commoner was a princess already engaged to someone else. Your (e/c) eyes met Hiro’s and you opened your mouth to speak.

“Do you think there’s any truth to the rumors?” He looked down with a clouded expression, clearly not wanting to upset you. However, at the same time, he also didn’t want to lie to you.

“I… I’m not sure. But I do know there was a period of two years where King Izuku would regularly sneak out of the castle. He always returned home with a single flower. Usually a rose.”

“How do you know?”

“I would help him. I would make excuses for him so he wouldn’t get caught. Thankfully, neither did I.” So, it was true. As you fell deeper in thought, Hiro’s voice pulled you out again. “You know, (prince/princess), it’s best if you ask him, yourself. All of these stories are rumors, they could have no truth to them whatsoever.”

He had a point. Dabi could’ve been lying, telling you one of the more popular rumors. The rumors were so widespread, even you’d heard of them in your country. But Hiro was right, they could’ve been false, yet you were here getting so worked up over them.

You sighed and placed your cup of tea down as you munched on one of the snacks Hiro had brought. Was it ok to ask king Izuku such a sensitive question? I mean, even if it was such a personal question, he wouldn’t mind answering knowing how much it bothered you, right?

But at the same thing, asking him felt so… embarrassing and scary. What if he got angry or what if he confirmed the rumors true? What then? At least right now, it was all speculation. You could pretend they were all just fake stories, but once he’d confirm the truth, what would be left to deny? Was it better to stay in the dark?

You were pulled from your thoughts and your head snapped to the door when it opened. You saw King Izuku enter and look at you with a tired smile. Immediately, your heart began to race and you became restless.

“Hello.” He greeted you two as Hiro bowed, before silently leaving. “How are you?” Izuku joined you on the couch, sitting right next to you. He reached out and took a small cookie from the plate in front of you.

“I’m fine.” Although you didn’t stutter, your voice was strained and you were sure he heard it too.

“Please don’t push yourself.” He said and took your hand. “I don’t want you to overdo it.” You nodded, letting him hold your hand. Even if he was already someone else’s, the warmth you felt from his hand eased your burdens.

“I won’t.”

***

It had been about a week since the Dabi incident and he was nowhere to be found. Of course, naturally, the security wasn’t as strict and you were finally able to breathe and have some time alone. Constantly being followed was more exhausting than you thought it would be. However, now you were able to rest easy.

It didn’t last long, however. As you sat in your bedroom eating the snacks Hiro had brought, you saw a figure on the balcony. No way…

Dabi looked back at you and smiled, making you gulp nervously as you slowly approached the doors. He knew about this other girl. Maybe he could tell you more. Hopefully curiosity wasn’t about to kill this cat.

“It’s you,” you said, making his smile widen, “you’re Dabi.”

“So you remember me, doll. It’s an honor.” You were hesitant, but you pushed the words out anyway.

“Tell me more about the woman King Izuku fell in love with.”

“Of course, your majesty. Anything for our future ruler.” You invited Dabi inside, not wanting him to get caught before he finished the story. Even though he’d attacked you last time, your curiosity was too strong to call for help. You wanted to know more about this woman and you couldn’t bring it up to Izuku, no matter how much you tried. So, he was your best option.

“She’s said to hail from your kingdom,” Dabi started, making your eyes widen a little. “The commoner. The current rumor is that King Izuku married you in hopes to search your kingdom for her.” Ouch.

“What does he hope to do when he finds her?” You asked, your voice cracking with anxiety.

“What else? A king can have his harem or even a concubine. If anything, he could declare her his mistress and you’d be powerless to do anything.” Ok, sure king Izuku COULD do that, be he wouldn’t. He… he wasn’t like that. You hadn’t known king Izuku that long, but this just seemed so uncharacteristic. However, what would king Izuku do once he found her? This innocent maiden he fell for.

“I…” you had tried to say something, but were unable to. What could you say? This rumor was worse than the others. Was your husband truly using you to find a woman he was so madly in love with? What would he do once he found her? Tears welled up in your eyes again. You didn’t even bother holding them back as they slid down your cheeks. Dabi smiled as he leaned closer.

“Give it time, your highness. When he breaks your heart, I’ll come and steal you away.” You looked up, meeting his sapphire eyes. The pain in your heart just increased at his words and you found yourself speaking before you could stop to think.

“Promise?” You choked, making him reach out and wipe a stray tear. More followed in its wake, however.

“Of course. You’ll be of value then.” Right, he only stole things of value, and by then you’d no doubt be (king/queen). You only nodded as Dabi stole a biscuit and walked towards the balcony. “See you later, doll.” With that, he disappeared into the night, leaving you alone to wallow in your thoughts.

***

It had been a little over a week since your talk with Dabi. You hadn’t seen or heard from him again and from the way everyone was acting, it was obvious they hadn’t seen him.

The time was getting closer for you to be crowned (king/queen) next to king Izuku and you hated it. You hated it more than you did the first day you found out about this wedding. Recently, your husband had been extra busy in (k/n). You weren’t sure and he didn’t tell you much, but you could assume why. It must’ve been her.

You were back to sleeping on your own and you felt that wall between yourself and Izuku standing tall. You were too busy with your lessons to properly sit your husband down to ask about why he was going to your country so much.

“Are you alright, your highness?” You blinked and saw Mirio’s face peering down at you with concern.

“Oh, yes. I’m sorry.” He smiled, sympathetically.

“How about a break then? I think you’ve been working extremely hard, recently and you need to take it easy.” He smiled, as he poured some tea for you. You graciously took it and sipped at it.

“Mirio, do you know what king Izuku’s doing in (k/n)?”

“Word is he’s searching for something.” You had to keep yourself from sighing. So it was true after all. He really is looking for his innocent maiden. You couldn’t compete, there was just no way. “Why do you look so sad, your highness?” You looked up at Mirio, trying to think of the words. It took a moment but you found them.

“I want something and I can’t have it. So I’m sad.” He frowned at your words and looked down at his cup of tea. A (king/queen)-to-be wanted something they couldn’t have? Seemed impossible.

***

You sighed as you fell back on your bed, your eyes glued onto the beautiful ceiling. The days were so beautiful but you weren’t able to enjoy them. You missed the one date you had with king Izuku. You missed the happiness you felt because recently, all you felt was loneliness and dread.

Just when you thought you were getting closer to the man you married, it turns out you were wrong. You thought that wall had fallen, but it never did. You were merely too far away to even see it. Izuku could never love you the way you’d come to love him. That was the harsh reality you needed to accept.

The door opened, making you jump a little and you saw your husband. He was finally back? From the looks of it, he didn’t find her.

If you were going to be married to him for the rest of your life, assuming Dabi stealing you away would fail, you at least wanted to know the truth. You’d finally felt you had enough courage to ask and you no longer cared if the time was right or not.

While you sat there thinking, Izuku quickly changed out of his suit and returned to you.

“You’re still up? It’s late, you should rest. I’ve heard from everyone you’ve been so busy I don’t want you-“

“Why have you been going into (k/n)?” You asked, interrupting him. He was clearly taken aback but shrugged it off. You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh and uncaring, but you couldn’t change it now.

“I’ve been looking for something, why?” Alright, so he WAS looking for something.

“King Izuku… I want you to tell me about those rumors. About you falling in love with someone.” He nodded without hesitation.

“Of course. Tell me all you’ve heard.” You inhaled before explaining everything you’d been told, making sure to leave out the names of your sources. Izuku quietly listened to every last word and could see your frustration building up. He found it almost too adorable. However, that feeling went away when he saw the tears.

“If… you’re looking for her, I’d like to know.” You felt as if you’d been rather harsh, but who could blame you?

“Well, (prince/princess), there is no truth to any of those rumors.” You froze, staring at him. Was he lying?

“Well what about sneaking out regularly for 2 years? Coming back with flowers?” He smiled a little and shook his head.

“I did sneak out often but that was because I loved going to the city. I was always busy so whenever I could, I would sneak out of the house. The flowers were from a nice old lady who figured out I was the prince. She was such a sweetheart and always gave me candy with a rose.” Oh. “If anything, your highness, the “maiden” in the story is you.”

“What?” He chuckled at your obvious confusion. Ok now you looked even more adorable than before.

“It was nothing as serious as the rumors claim. I was visiting your country and it happened to be your 18th birthday. I saw you on the balcony with your parents. The entire kingdom was celebrating. I didn’t fall in love at first sight, but I thought you were absolutely beautiful and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you for a second. After that day, I couldn’t get your face out of my head. I was actually pretty desperate to meet you,” he admitted with a chuckle as your face turned shades off red. “That’s why when I was told I could marry you, I wanted to.

I didn’t expect it to work, actually. We barely knew each other. I just thought I’d at least be able to meet you and talk to you. Maybe it would put my heart to ease, a little. And to answer your previous question, I’ve been looking for a well known jeweler. There is a ring I wanted her to make, and I wanted to give you that ring instead.”

“A-another ring?” He nodded with a bright smile and took your left hand, his finger brushing against the ring.

“When I gave this to you, it symbolized unity between our countries. That’s all… but the one I was planning on having made will be a symbol of my love for you.”

“L-love!?” Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed red at his words. He only nodded, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing them.

“Yes. I love you. It didn’t take very long… but I’m in love with you, (prince/princess) (f/n).”

To say you felt like an idiot would be an understatement. You’d been stressing over a story that wasn’t even real! If anything, it was about you! Your cheeks burned red at the thought of Izuku loving you and only you.

“Oh? Are you blushing?” He asked, leaning in close. Your cheeks only got redder as your embarrassment surfaced.

“St-stop teasing, king Izuku.”

“I should’ve mentioned this before but we’re married now, you don’t have to use formalities.” He smiled, as his hand found its way to your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into the warmth before you felt something soft on your lips.

This was your second kiss with him and it was definitely better than the first. You could feel the passion he poured into the kiss and it made your heart race.

You immediately melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled you onto his lap, deepening the kiss. A small sigh left your lips, making his arms tighten around your waist. He pulled away and looked up at you a little.

“Oh, if you keep that up, your highness, I won’t be able to hold back.” He whispered, his lips meeting yours again. The kiss was much more heated, but you responded with just as much fervor. Slowly, his soft lips trailed down your neck. You closed your eyes and let the warmth spread through your body, as the excitement caused tingles.

Your hands raked through his fluffy green tuft and as his lips kissed your neck. You felt a pinch for a second before he moved his way down to your chest. He dropped you down onto the bed, crawling over you and staring down at your flustered form.

The look in his eyes drove you up a wall. So far you’d only seen Izuku as emotionless and adorable… but you’d never seen THAT look in his eyes.

“(F/n). Will you give me your heart and body?” You nodded without hesitation, as he leaned down and claimed your lips before he’d claim all of you.

***

“I present to you… (KING/QUEEN) (F/N)!” The kingdom roared with applause, causing you to smile brightly. Ever since Izuku cleared up the rumors, you’d never felt happier. In a sense, the rumors were true. You had been the innocent “maiden” he’d fallen in love with and had claimed your body and heart, while giving you his own.

You smiled as you stood next to your husband, waving to everyone. You saw your parents and Inko standing to the side, waving back. Your parents would step down as rulers of (k/n) so you and Izuku could take their place and they couldn’t have been happier. The ring on your finger was a reminder of the love you both shared. Something you wouldn’t give up for the world.

***

“Still need to be stolen, (king/queen) (f/n)?” You smiled as you turned around and saw Dabi standing behind you with a smirk. The celebration had ended and you were by yourself, once again, at your balcony.

“I’ll be disappointing you tonight, Dabi.” He only smiled as he stood next to you and leaned against the railing.

“I think I’m ok with that, this time.” He mumbled, looking ahead at the large city. You were smiling before your brows furrowed and you turned to him.

“You lied to me about the rumors.” He chuckled and looked at you, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Hey, I never said they were true.” You scoffed and shook your head, glaring at him a little.

“I was so upset, Dabi!” He smirked and little and leaned in close to you, his fingers pushing a lock of your hair away from your face. You froze a little, not expecting something like this to happen. His cold, slender fingers slid down to your neck, brushing up against it. You shivered at the sensation, looking away a little.

“Oh? Keep that up, your majesty and I might just steal you for myself.”

“Dabi…” you mumbled, looking back at him.

“Oh right, you’re already taken. This mark proves it.” Your eyes widened and your face flushed a deep red, making Dabi throw his head back and laugh. You had a hickey this whole time?!! Who all saw it?!

“D-Dabi!” You exclaimed, smacking his arm. But you couldn’t deny the smile that made its way to your face. Yeah, you belonged to Izuku and that mark proved it.

“You know what, (king/queen) (f/n), call me whenever you need me. I’ll work for you and ONLY you.” You tilted your head, a curious expression on your face. Dabi was a thief… why would he say that?

“Why? I haven’t done anything.” He shook his head at your words.

“You make me laugh. You’re amusing and I like being around you. Call me whenever you need me. Whether it be stealing a relic or stealing you away from this kingdom.” He gave you a wink before hopping off the balcony and disappearing into the night. What an oddball.

With a smile, you looked up at the sea of stars. Deja vu. You giggled and closed your eyes, whispering to yourself.

“Please let me stay here… please let me be with him.” You felt something fall around your shoulders, and your eyes shot open.

“You’ll catch a cold if you stand out here without one.” Izuku said, with a smile. You giggled and leaned into his arms as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I love you, Izuku.” You said, leaning your head on his chest as you stared out at the city in the distance.

“I love you too, (f/n).”

#mha #mha imagines #mha deku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #bnha izuku #izuku x reader #midoirya izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha midoriya #bnha #bnha deku #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fantasy au

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ft-dads-au · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Gonna Stand By You

I Take Pride In What I Am 2020 Prompt: Brave Pairing(s): Silver & Gray, Rogue & Gray, Silver x Mika

A Collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404 AO3 | FF.Net

Summary: Gray didn't plan on coming out at his grandfather's 59th birthday dinner, but he couldn't take even one more of his grandfather's hateful opinions. Worried at how his family will react he hides away only to learn that he is not alone.

Gray age 15, Rogue age 12

June 1, 2006

The atmosphere had always been different whenever Gray’s grandparents were around. Tense and uncomfortable, and Gray knew that it had everything to do with his grandfather. It was a shame, really. His grandmother was actually quite nice, but he hadn’t looked forward to seeing her in a long time, and it was safe to say that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Argent Fullbuster was an intimidating man. He was strict and harsh in his opinions, which he never kept to himself. On the contrary, he’d belt them out to anyone who would and wouldn’t listen, never being subtle when he voiced his criticism.

And he criticized a lot.

Few things seemed to be up to his standards. Even when he’d give his praise, he’d always find a flaw, and he never hesitated to point it out.

He’d commented on one of Gray’s passes when he’d come to watch one of his hockey games, even though they’d played an amazing game and won. He’d told Rogue he could’ve gotten a higher grade for his essay if he’d tried harder, even though he’d scored the highest grade in his class. Their parents were never spared either.

No one ever spoke too much about it, but now that Gray was a little older, he was more aware of how his parents’ behavior would change, starting well before a visit.

His mother would fret about cleaning the house, what to prepare for dinner, or making sure Gray and Rogue looked presentable. His father would become distant or get moody, burning through his cigarettes in no time.

Gildarts made sure not to be around, and Gray guessed that was a good thing. He couldn’t imagine the man keeping his mouth shut the way his parents did when Argent would go off about whatever displeased him. Cana had downright said she didn’t like him and would stay with her own grandparents whenever she got the chance.

Gray could see the extra effort his mother would always put in to please Argent, but it never seemed to make any difference. He and Rogue would too, they’d speak more politely and mind their manners. But Gray was getting sick of conforming to his grandfather’s impossible standards.

He was 15 years old. He didn’t want to be told what to do, what to say, or how to act anymore. And he certainly didn’t want to waste his energy on someone who would never accept him as he was anyway.

Gray had suspected that he wasn’t straight for a while now. He received plenty of attention from girls, something he didn’t always enjoy but certainly wouldn’t complain about either. Still, he couldn’t deny he was attracted to guys too. It took him some time to figure it out. At first, he’d mistaken it for admiration or maybe even jealousy, until he realized that he didn’t want to be that guy.

He wanted to be with that guy.

Grandpa Fullbuster, of course, had a very outspoken opinion about faggots, as he called them.

He’d use the slur whenever he saw fit. Watching a sports game and the ref made a call he didn’t agree with? Faggot. Someone cut him off on the road? Faggot. A man acting or presenting in any way that didn’t match his definition of manly? Definitely a Faggot.

Gray had so hoped that the subject wouldn’t come up today when his parents had invited his grandparents for dinner to celebrate Argent’s 59th birthday. He was already having trouble dealing with the usual scrutiny his grandfather was delivering, struggling to keep his expression neutral and his mouth shut. But then, right after dinner, when they were sitting in front of the tv, there was an item about the annual pride event on the news.

“Pah! What’s there to celebrate? All these faggots do is make themselves look like fools!” Argent boomed. He took a sip of his scotch, then raised his glass at the tv as if he was addressing the people on the screen directly, “You’re all going to hell, you can be proud of that!”

The awkwardness that followed was smothering, and Gray looked at his family members curiously to see their responses. His grandmother fiddled with the purse on her lap. His mom was putting the dishes in the dishwasher, not giving the matter any attention whatsoever. Rogue was reading a book, only glancing away from the pages for a second before ignoring the situation again. His dad was just staring at the tv with a blank expression like he’d do so many times when Argent went off about something.

No one said or did anything. And although it was nothing new, today it was the last straw for Gray. He got off the couch abruptly and stormed out of the room before he could say something stupid.

“Where are you going?” Rogue asked, following his movements.

“To hell, I guess.”

Like that.

Gray could hear a plate shattering on the floor and a commotion rising, but he didn’t stop to listen. He slammed the door of his bedroom shut and flopped down on his bed, putting in a pair of earphones and raising the volume of his mp3 player as high as it could go in a bid to drown out the sound of his grandfather’s yelling.

Whatever he had to say, Gray didn’t want to hear it anymore.

When his dad came into the room a few songs later, he was still laying in pretty much the same position, music blasting into his ear as he tried to calm his angry thoughts. Gray paused the song, ready to face a scolding for disrupting the peace, or a demand for an apology which he was unwilling to give.

Gray certainly didn’t expect his dad to sit down next to him on the bed and burst out laughing. That’s it, he thought, all the research he was continually doing for his work must have gone to his old man’s head. Either that, or he was going senile at a very young age.

“What’s so funny?” Gray huffed.

“I just can’t believe that out of the very few people I have ever seen brave enough to defy my father like that, one of them is my teenage son!” his dad chuckled, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Man, I haven’t seen him that pissed since the time I told him I was dating a guy…”

“What?” Gray’s eyes widened in surprise, and he sat up, “What do you mean?”

His dad regained his composure and turned more serious, but the smile never faltered. “I’m sorry, kid. If I’d realized, I would have told you this sooner,” he apologized, “Maybe then you would’ve had someone to talk to and known you’re not alone.”

“I’m bisexual,” Silver admitted, and suddenly his behavior around Argent made even more sense to Gray than it already had.

“Wow, that sucks,” Gray blurted out, still stunned by his father’s revelation. “Not the bisexual part, I’m pretty sure I am too, but…you’ve had to deal with that asshole’s bullshit for all those years?”

“Yep,” Silver laughed, but Gray wasn’t fooled. He could sense something painful his dad was trying hard not to let show, and Gray hated to think about what it would’ve been like for him, growing up with a father like Argent.

“It does suck, but I’m used to it. At this point, I just try to ignore it. You know how he is, he won’t change his mind, and nothing we do is ever good enough for him anyway.”

“Right,” Gray rolled his eyes,” Is he gone already?”

“Yeah, he tried to yell at me for my less than adequate parenting skills, but I told him I had something more important to do.”

“But wouldn’t that mean that his parenting skills were also inadequate?” Gray pointed out.

”Good luck getting him to admit to anything like that,” Silver shrugged in resignation, “Anyway, your grandmother was able to convince him to take her home before he lost it.”

Gray had to admit he was surprised to hear his father had stood up for him against his grandfather, he’d never expected it given how his father seemed to be off in his own world whenever Argent was around.

“He was furious, though, won’t that make trouble for you guys?”

“Let me and your mother worry about that,” Silver said reassuringly as he pulled Gray into a tight hug. “Honestly, at this point in my life, I could care less about his opinion.”

“You’re my son, and I’m proud of you for being brave enough to stand up for what you believe in.” He kissed the top of Gray’s head, patting his shoulder before letting go.” I know it’s not easy to do.”

Gray still couldn’t get over how everything had gone down. Just a few weeks ago, he’d been trying to figure out whether to tell his parents at all, not sure how they would react to his news. He’d never expected it to go this smoothly, and he certainly never expected to learn his father was the same.

“When did you know you were, you know?” Gray wasn’t sure if he was overstepping boundaries, but he’d never met anyone else who felt the same way he did, and he had so many questions.

“Bisexual,” Silver enunciated as Gray gawked at him with wide eyes, “It’s okay to say it, it’s not a dirty word, and it’s not something I ever want you to feel bad about, okay? I was never able to be proud of who I was when I was growing up, I always felt like I had to hide it. The last thing I want is for you to experience that.”

He scratched his head, “As for your question, I think I always knew, I just wasn’t really at liberty to say or do much about it. Things are a little better now,” he smiled in encouragement.

“What about you?”

Gray gave a half shrug, suddenly feeling shy after all his earlier bravado.

“It’s okay,” Silver ruffled his hair, “I know you’re not much of a talker, you don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to. There are some things I won’t be able to share with you either.”

“What’s it like to date a guy?” Gray asked eagerly.

His father peered at him, the corner of his eyes crinkling, before giving him his answer, “Well, the first time can be kind of nerve-wracking, like most firsts usually are, but ultimately it all depends on how you feel about each other. If you find someone you really love, the rest just becomes less relevant. It’s the same for dating women.”

For a moment it seemed like his father had once gone again off to whatever world he escaped to whenever his grandfather was around, but just when Gray was about to say something, his father turned to him with a teasing grin.

“So what about you? Have you dated anyone? I remember what it was like to be on a sports team, I doubt things have changed that much.”

“Not exactly,” Gray muttered, not really wanting to get into the few hookups he’d had when he was trying to figure stuff out.

“Is Mom not coming in?” he looked to the door, wanting to change the subject but also finding her absence decidedly strange.

When Gray glanced back at his father he thought he caught the barest traces of sadness on his face, but it was quickly replaced by a blank expression, making him wonder if he’d just been imagining it.

“I wouldn’t read too much into it. Your brother got a little spooked with the yelling,” Silver explained, “She’s making sure he’s okay.”

Gray nodded his understanding, but remembering the clatter of the plate breaking as he stormed out of the room, he couldn’t help but worry that maybe there might be more to it than that.

“Hey,” Silver was quick to reassure him, “unlike my father, your mother will always love you no matter what. Remember that.”

“Okay.”

“I know you probably have a lot more questions, but there are some things I want to talk about first.”

Gray slipped him a curious glance, unsure of what his father wanted to talk about, but he settled down to listen.

“I want you to be careful. Things have gotten better over time, people are more accepting, but unfortunately, there are still plenty of them who aren’t. Don’t engage them, you never know what they’re capable of.”

“And speaking of being careful, that applies to sex as well. Always use protection, whether you’re with a man or a woman, because-”

“Yes, dad, I get it!” Gray interrupted. He’d had the talk with his dad already and had no intention of repeating the experience.

“Alright, alright,” he glanced at Gray with a mischievous grin, “Wanna really piss off your grandfather?”

“What did you have in mind?” Gray couldn’t help but smile at seeing the excitement on his father’s face.

“Well, the Pride parade in Crocus is on Saturday, wanna go?” Silver twisted his wedding ring as he waited for an answer. “I always wanted to go to one.”

“Sure,” Gray replied, feeling closer to his dad than he had in a long time and wanting to experience his first parade with him, “I’d love to go.”

“Maybe we can all go!” Silver exclaimed eagerly, “Come on, let’s go find your mom.” He hurried out of the room, and Gray chased after him, caught up in his excitement.

When they reached the living room, they were greeted by the sight of Mika talking to Rogue quietly. There was something about it that made Gray feel uneasy, but his dad didn’t seem to notice.

“We’re all going to attend the pride parade in Crocus this Saturday,” Silver announced with a smile.

“Crocus? That’s quite a ways away,” Mika reasoned, “Don’t you think we should discuss it first?”

“What’s there to discuss?” Silver asked, stiffening at the apparent lack of enthusiasm coming from his wife.

“Silver, I get that this is exciting for you, but this is about Gray, not you.”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not having this discussion here,” Mika countered, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Fine!”

Silver yanked the sliding door that led out to their deck open, storming outside. Mika turned to look at Gray and Rogue, flashing them a half-smile, “Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

She followed her husband outside, gently closing the door behind her.

Gray’s eyes were fixed on his parents, and although he couldn’t hear their words, his father was obviously upset. He watched as his mother tried to put a hand on his father’s shoulder only to have him shrug it away and step back. He didn’t really understand what the fight was about, but it seemed much too hostile to just be about whether they were going to attend an event or not. And he couldn’t help but feel that it was his fault that they were fighting.

“Do you want to play a video game?” Rogue asked, getting up and turning away from the sliding door, drawing him away from the guilt that was gnawing away at him.

“Yeah, sure, it’s not like we’re doing much good up here,” Gray agreed, giving one last look at the arguing couple before following his brother downstairs to the entertainment room that their dad and Gildarts had set up in the basement.

“Which one do you want to play?” he asked as he turned on the tv and the game console, searching through the games they owned.

“Co-op fighter?” Rogue suggested with a small smile, “We can pretend to kick grandpa’s ass.”

“If only,” Gray snorted and inserted the game, grabbing a controller for each of them. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from his brother but was glad to find that he didn’t seem to be making a big deal out of the situation.

“I’m sorry for causing a scene, heard the old bastard freaked you out a little,” he apologized as he picked his fighter, waiting for Rogue to choose his.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Rogue shrugged, “He was the one who made the scene. It’s so stupid, we always have to behave around him, but he’s the one who can’t act like a decent human being. You should’ve seen him, he went rabid.”

“I seriously don’t understand how Dad came from that man,” Gray grumbled, “they are so different.”

“Yeah, I feel bad for him sometimes, I guess that’s why he always acts like he’s off somewhere else while they’re here,” Rogue noted, “And poor mom is stuck serving Grandpa while he sits there saying shit about dad.”

Hearing his brother mention their mom reminded Gray that he still had no idea how she had reacted to his announcement.

“Hey uh, what did mom say after I left?” he asked hesitantly. His worries regarding her opinion still bugged him. The response she’d given when his dad mentioned the plan for Saturday, and the fact that his parents were having a fight over it had only worsened them.

“Not much, just that it was going to be okay and that I should come to you and dad with my questions.”

“Oh,” Gray looked down at his controller, trying not to feel disheartened by that. He guessed it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t what he was hoping to hear either.

“She isn’t disappointed in you or anything,” Rogue added quickly, “I think she was just overwhelmed. There was a lot of yelling.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Gray forced himself to smile at his little brother, not wanting to stress him out any further. He gestured toward the screen, “You ready to go?”

“So are you gay?” Rogue asked, still scrolling through the different character options to pick his fighter.

“Ish? I like both, so that makes me bisexual,” Gray spoke the word confidently like his dad had told him to, remembering their conversation.

It was the first time he’d used it to refer to himself, and though he’d thought it would make him nervous - like there was no turning back from it anymore- he just felt right. It wasn’t any different than saying he played hockey. It was only another part of who he was, and his dad was right, he should be proud of it. No matter what others might have to say.

“That’s cool,” Rogue replied much in the same way he said anything, finally settling on a character. “All set.”

Gray snorted at his response, wondering what else he could have possibly expected from his brother. “Let’s do this.”

They played for a while, waiting for their parents to call them back upstairs, but when it didn’t happen, Gray forced himself to focus on the game. Trying to beat the waves of enemies helped him distance himself from what was going on.

“Hey, Gray?” Rogue spoke up in the middle of a boss fight, “Do you think they have video games in hell?”

Gray peered at him curiously, wondering where that had come from. “No idea, why?”

“Just wanna know because you suck so much I’m afraid we might not finish this game before we get there.”

Gray gawked at him for a moment before collapsing into a fit of giggles, “Man, I sure hope mom and dad weren’t counting on too many grandchildren.”

“What are you doing?! You got us both killed!” Rogue protested with such outrage that it only made Gray laugh even harder.

Gray’s expression softened as he studied his brother. “Guess we’ll just have to finish it in hell then.”

“I’d rather finish it now, just in case the rumors of blazing infernos are true, thank you,” Rogue rolled his eyes, setting up the game for another try. “And just so you know, you’re on grandkid duty. You like both, so you still have a chance of making it happen.”

“No promises,” Gray smirked, he did like girls, but he seemed to be more interested in boys at the moment.

“True,” Rogue said matter-of-factly, “Who’d want to date you?”

“You’re alright, kid,” Gray declared with a lingering chuckle, ruffling Rogue’s hair in the way his brother absolutely hated.

“And you’re annoying,” Rogue pouted, “but you’re also pretty badass for giving gramps the big fuck you.”

“That did feel good,” Gray confessed, getting up to grab a soda from the mini-fridge and tossing one to his brother.

Gray felt relief knowing that his father and brother both supported him. As for his mother, he decided to trust that she would love him no matter what, just as his father had said. There wasn’t much else he could do until he had a chance to talk to her.

He wondered what the outcome of their parents’ fight would be, hoping that they would still be allowed to go to the parade. It seemed important to his dad, even if he had framed it as a way to piss off Argent, and Gray wanted to offer him the same support he’d been given. It was easy to see there was a story there, and he hoped that someday his father would trust him with it.

As for the game, they never did end up finishing it, too wound up by everything that had happened to stay focused, but Gray felt closer to Rogue than ever. He made himself a promise that he would always have his back, and if anyone ever had the balls to give his little brother a hard time for who he was, Gray would give them hell.

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #ftlgbtpride2020 #ftlgbtales #silver & gray #gray & rogue #silver x mika #fics #dads pride 2020 #I Take Pride In What I Am 2020 #prompt: brave #fullbuster family

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elliemarchetti · 5 years ago

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Red Queen Soulmate AU (Diana and Shade)

Although @elane-in-the-shadows is the queen of the Fade fandom I also wanted to contribute by writing something about one of my favorite couples in the series and what could be better than putting them in a soulmate AU?

(Mare’s POV)

Other Red Queen fics:

A Rebel’s Song (part 2)

A Wonderful Mistake (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Words: 1955

"There’s a storm coming," said the Colonel to fill the silence. He had the good eye pressed on a crack in the compartment wall, fixed on the horizon. The other eye stares, though it can hardly see through a film of scarlet blood, but it was nothing new: his left eye has been like that for years. Diana followed his gaze, peering through slats in the rattling wood. Black clouds approached rapidly, barely hidden by the thickly covered hills and the lush vegetation. In the distance, thunder rolled, but it didn't bother her, as long as the storm didn’t slowed the train down, forcing her to spend more time hidden here, beneath the cargo car’s false floor. She couldn't really complain about the means of transport: on the trip to leave Solmary they had spent half the time on a barge shipping fruit with most of the cargo rotten that had forced her to spent the entire first week of operations trying to wash the stink away from her clothes, and she would never forget the disaster at Detraon; three days in a cattle car only to find the Lakelander capital utterly beyond reach, too close to the Choke and the warfront to have shoddy defenses. But she wasn’t officer back then, and it wasn’t her decision to try to infiltrate a Silver capital without adequate intelligence and support, but her father’s, who was only a captain with too much to prove and too much to fight for, and she little more than an oathed soldier with things to prove too. Bad blood or not, they had always been a good team and that’s why they kept getting sent out together. Detraon was their only misstep in an endless march for the cause, for which they put aside their differences each and every time.

“Any idea where we go next?” she asked, like the Colonel, unable to bear the heavy silence. After all, he was her father and they had once been very close. But he turned away from the wall, frowning, reminding her again that nothing was left of her parent and that only her superior was in front of her.

“You know that’s not how it works.”

She obviously knew, she had been an officer for two years and passed two others as an oathed soldier, not to mention that she had spent a lifetime in the shadow of the Guard: no one knows more than they must, no one is told anything beyond their operation, their squadron and their immediate superiors because information was the most dangerous of their weapons. They learned that after decades of failed uprising, all laid low by one captured Red in the hands of a Silver whisperer. Even the best trained soldier cannot resist an assault of the mind. Every once in a while she wondered what they would find in hers, though she really didn't want to know. Surely her family, as it was before the flood, and then dates, names and operations, enough to cripple the last two years of work in the Lakelands but not enough to destroy it. They would also find King Orrec’s name, if only she hadn't had it tattooed on her left wrist. The names of those who you will hate and love the most, another divine condemnation, although many within the Scarlet Guard suspect it was just another way to control the masses. Diana also thought so, but wasn’t convinced that it was completely Silvers’ work but more than they had benefited from something they couldn’t control, just as they did with their powers.

“Captain Farley.”

Diana turned. It had been years since he last called her with her real name but it was fine, for various reasons.

“Colonel” she replied, and he finally looked at her, his good eye still a familiar shade of blue, filled for a brief moment with regret. She wasn't ready for another discussion, she didn't have the strength to deal with it, therefore she kept still under his quiet, quick observation. Everything was a test with him, it had always been, although to a lesser extent. At first, when she was just a little girl, she liked the feeling and did everything to make him proud and happy, but now he was getting old and his demands were increasingly difficult to achieve.

“What do you know about Norta?”

She grinned harshly. So they’ve finally decided to expand out. It was now clear for some time that the Lakelands were not fertile ground for the kind of rebellion they wanted to lead: too many cultivated areas, too many uninhabited spaces, too many memories for many of them. Norta was a breath of fresh air, with its coasts and immense capital. Moreover, the alliance with Piedmont must have intrigued the Command: once they conquered two kingdoms like these, breaking down the Cygnet monarchy would have been much easier.

"Another monarchy where the Reds must work or conscript to perpetrate the war that has been going on with the Lakelands for almost a century. Their king is Tiberias Calore the Sixth, a burner, fitting opposite to the nymph kings of the Lakelands. They should be easier to infiltrate since it’s half the size of the Lakelands with comparable population but we will have to be careful: a more advanced basis of infrastructures also involves many more controls.”

Outside, the thunder rumbled again, closer than before. So they would go to Norta to do exactly what someone long before them had started in the Lakelands. Her body already buzzed with anticipation: she had been waiting for that occasion for a long time and she wouldn’t let it escape.

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

The Chokes had a smell, a set of ash, smoke and corpses that remained on the soldiers like a sticky lover, sometimes even when they came back home. The veterans used to say that it enters your nose, but Shade was more convinced that it penetrated your skin and went down to your bones, becoming an integral part of you: you could be convinced that you got rid of it, but that smell of burnt carrion always came back when you least expected it, it didn’t matter how often you washed yourself or how hard you rubbed, because it was something intangible, more a memory than something physical. Some went crazy because of this feeling, he had seen them. In the beginning they behave as if they were well, maybe a little down, but when you are at war you are never too happy and usually no one notices it until the irritability and the unprovoked anger came, which usually resulted in severe paranoia and hallucinations, and this was what happened to those who were lucky. Even Shade’s skin began to be sticky, but that could be sweat, soil or blood: sometimes at the front it was difficult to distinguish them, either on someone’s clothes or on the ground, or at least this was what he repeated himself until exhaustion. That's why he had missed the monthly reading of the names, although he still hoped to meet his Diana, to live a normal and never completely satisfying, life, and why he was walking in the middle of the woods, risking death penalty, careful to put his feet right where three people before him put theirs, wearing his uniform turned upside down: to not go crazy, to have a chance to live a life worthy of being called such and above all to allow his family and all those who came after to do so. Wasn't that a worthy reason to fight, compared to earning a few miles of land on which even the grass would never grow again, by how much it was soaked in blood and dust? He hoped so, or he would have ended up just like all those poor souls who had lost their reason in the trenches.

"Here they are," Corporal Eastree hissed, snatching him from his dark thoughts. Shade leaned forward to study the three Lakelanders. The first to attract his attention was a girl nearly his age, tall and so pale she could be mistaken for a Silver, with thin straight blond hair and eyes colder than ice. She seemed annoyed, although Shade couldn't understand from what, but he also saw that this was all a facade: certainly she was a tough woman, but she had to maintain that forced detachment and that tough expression to enforce her rank. Thus in the Scarlet Guard there was no place for humanity and the feelings it entailed. Next to her was a boy nearly the same age, tall and thin as well, partly hidden behind the large rifle he was aiming at them. He seemed tense, as if he were about to shoot, be he remained incredibly still, as if he were used to being ready to kill someone for hours. He had to be a sniper, just as Corporal Eastree had been before the Lakelanders captured her and cut off both her trigger finger. The other woman was older and it was evident that, unlike the two younger elements that formed the small group, she had served in the trenches. She had lost an ear to a frostbite but she doesn’t hid the deformity, her blond hair pulled back tightly. Corporal Eastree must have made her own assessments too, as she came out of the bush with her hands up, to show that they had no intention of harming them, imitated by her subordinates.

“We’re the ones.” she said, but the younger girl didn’t seem convinced and asked for further confirmation, with which she didn’t appear particularly satisfied, perhaps because of the blatant anger in Corporal Eastree speech, although the woman had every right to be angry, considering that the war had taken everything away from her. Moreover, everyone would have had the nerves on edge to have a sniper, used to shoot from far greater distances, with a precision weapon pointed at their head. As if she had read his mind, the girl nodded to her companion, who relaxed his finger on the trigger just a little, but not enough to prevent Shade from throwing himself into the conversation and answering the next question instead of his superior, earning a grin from the girl.

“We best make this quick,” Eastree interrupted them, aware that no one would have won an argument against him armed with sarcasm and a title borrowed by the military. “Your lot might protect your names, but we have no use for such things since they have our blood and our faces. This is private Florins.” she started, pointing to the girl behind her. For anyone who didn't know, the two could have been mistaken for relatives, but Florins still had a family at home while Eastree had nothing but her subordinates, for whom she would have sacrificed anything.

“Private Reese” she continued, pointing to the next boy. They had been recruited together, he and Shade, but Reese had managed to convince the sorting officers that he would be more useful as supply soldier, so he was carried cases of ammunition and food all day instead of being in the open field.

“And…” she tried to end, but Shade interrupted her and closed the distance that separated him from those who would be his new allies and if all went the right way, maybe even a good escape from that hell.

“Barrow, Shade Barrow.”

Without seeming particularly impressed, their leader settled her right sleeve better and then went on to talk about what their tasks would be but their eyes no longer met, and Shade promised himself to find out what dark secrets that girl tried so hard to hide.

#soulmate au #red queen #diana farley #willis farley #shade barrow #tristan boreeve #orrec cygnet #fade

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antihero-writings · 6 years ago

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His Butler, Cemetery (Chapter 1: The Problem of the Flowers)—Black Butler Fic for Kuroinktober Prompt 17: Cemetery (Full Chapter)

Fic Title: His Butler, Cemetery

Fic Synopsis: Four visits to the cemetery, each growing in emotional intensity, and spanning backwards in time.

Spoilers for the current arc!!

Chapter Title: The Problem of the Flowers

Character Focus: Sebastian

Notes: This is a repost of an old fic!

Chapter 1:

He never asked to go to the cemetery. Not once. Of course, Sebastian knew, it wasn’t really the kind of place one asks to go to in the first place.

The Young Master made a point to move forward, to leave the past behind, to be the best fakes they could be. Yet, in the weeks succeeding their return to the mansion, that same Young Master often...found himself there. Like it was never a place to which intended to go, but he somehow, by no fault of his own, ended up there anyway. Like it was some hellish Rome that all roads led to.

As they made simple trips into town, sometimes on their way, or on their way back, they would arrive at the cemetery, as if it had appeared through a fog—(of course the idea was absurd). Or the Young Master would ask to go somewhere alone, and the cemetery (or perhaps the ghosts within) would call him back. He must have thought it was a secret, but there was nothing in their contract about surveillance, and ensuring his Master’s safety was top priority. So Sebastian would watch him, and wait. And neither would say a word about it later.

His Young Master would never cry while he was there. Never break down. Never fall to his knees, overcome by emotion (like most humans do). Never whine that they were gone, or plead that they would come back. Never pray. He would just stand there, his cane in one hand, fingering his ring with the other, looking solemnly down at the graves, like he was an old man, who had watched his friends all die one by one, and he was the only one left—and while it was all very sad, he had no right to cry, because it made sense after all; death comes for us all in the end. Or maybe he was looking down at the porcelain headstone like it was something beneath him, (beneath the call of a king, the pawns that fell lifeless at his feet, but he was not shaken), beneath him, yet something that was judging him all the same. A curious notion; that one can be judged by things beneath the ground.

Perhaps most often than anything, he would bring flowers.

White lilies, and pink carnations, lavender, and geraniums, roses, lilac, and peonies.

He wondered if his Young Master knew what they all meant.

Purity and love for his mother. Devotion, determination, gentility for his father. Innocence and bravery for his brother.

Pretty little words that meant nothing to the boy who had lost them all.

Were they his reason for coming so often; to lay a pile of lifeless words at their feet?

Or were they merely an excuse for something greater? But an excuse for what greater thing? To stand there looking forlorn?

The Young Master was never one for sentiment. So why this? Why not leave them behind, burning in the past where they belonged? Or was there more sentiment in him than Sebastian initially thought, and the boy advertised?

Nevertheless, it was there his Master went, and it was Sebastian’s job to know why.

If he couldn’t, what kind of a butler would he be?

He cycled through the human emotions—(he kept them on a list).

Was it the obvious emotion: sorrow? Mourning? They were his family after all. Sebastian knew, (not personally, but on principle), that it was hard for one to lose their parents. He had certainly broken down, called their names, once before. But never again.

No, he was too stubborn, too detached for that. The Young Master didn’t like the muddiness of sorrow. It was too much effort. And wearing black wasn’t a clue; he wore black no matter the occasion.

Or perhaps he was always in mourning.

How about pity? Did he feel sorry for those in the ground?

No, there was nothing to make him feel sorry for them, and surely he thought they had it better.

Maybe envy, then. That was the most interesting explanation. But why come here every day to see them just to turn slowly green with envy? No. As much that would have made things more interesting, that couldn’t be it.

Was it anger? Some show of pride, injustice, distain? Was he angry at them for dying? For leaving him here alone?

He’d bookmark it. But it didn’t seem enough to drag him back here.

After much hard thought and observation, he guessed guilt was the most likely reason. It made more sense than the others at the very least. It was the only one that provided an adequate reason for him to continue to come back.

Not a very creative reason, but an adequate one.

He had survived. He, the weak one. The frail. His father who was strong, his mother who was kind, his brother who was…everything he was not. They were the ones to die. And he felt guilty for being the one to live—and maybe a smidge angry too.

So the flowers must be some convoluted way to overpower the stench of his own guilt.

The demon licked his lips. He couldn’t help it, things like guilt only made the soul more delicious.

Still, he had to curb his desires, and while guilt could be a fine delicacy, these visits were growing tiresome.

Now that he had enough information, he decided to come before the boy himself.

“Young Master?”

The boy didn’t look up from his paperwork.

“If I might, there is a personal question I would like to ask you.”

“You and your bloody personal questions,” he muttered, taking the papers off the desk, leaning back and putting his feet on the table, “Well, there’s no use dragging it on; out with it.”

“I have often noticed you visiting the cemetery.”

The boy froze.

“Why just this week—”

“You…You were spying on me?!” he spun around and stood up, slamming the paperwork on the desk.

Ah. If he wasn’t mistaken, this was the emotion called anger.

“Only in a manor of speaking. It is my job to see to your personal well-being is it not?”

“That doesn’t excuse you—you—”

“My apologies. Would you like me to amend our contract to include—?”

“No, no,” he groaned, slumping back into his chair, rubbing his temple.

“It appears I’ve crossed some line.”

“Like you can see the lines,” he scoffed under his breath.

The air was stirring with the boy’s half-baked emotions.

“Are you finished here?” the Young Master asked.

Sebastian mulled over how to phrase it. “I hate to drag this on, but I never did receive the opportunity to ask my question.”

“Your question wasn’t...? Ugh. Fine, what is it?”

“Would you like me to bring flowers to their graves?”

The boy blinked. “Huh?”

“I merely thought that would be much easier, seeing as you were never one for things like sentiment.”

The Young Master bit his lip, glaring at the nothing in particular in the corner of the room, “No, I would not. Now please leave me to do my work in peace.”

Sebastian bowed. “Yes my Lord. My apologies for even bringing it up.”

But a few days later, when he was having tea with Lizzie, The Young Master motioned for him to come close.

“Yes, Young Master?”

“That thing you mentioned the other day, about the flowers?”

“What of it?”

“Please do it.”

“Of course, my Lord.” He stood, “Happy to be of assistance.”

*****

Sebastian knelt down before the headstones, setting the flowers in neat little piles by each.

The demon never understood why humans visited graves, much less why they left flowers for them. What are the dead to do with flowers? Are the flowers to die with them? Or, what comfort do flowers provide the living? Were they trying to make the stench of death more palpable… or less intoxicating?

Intoxicating, yes. The day when the house burned, and the two boys were stolen away from the bloodied corpses that were once loving parents…that day, death must have been intoxicating for him. He must have wished to die with them. But the boy didn’t get to die. In the days, weeks, following, as he was tortured and branded and scarred and starved, Death’s perfume placed beneath his nose, he didn’t get to taste it.

And now death would become something far worse for him than it ever could have been before.

The days went by, then weeks, dragging into months, he continued to bring flowers. Sun, rain, snow, it didn’t matter. Of course, it never mattered anyway, but this chore was one of the few that carried on, that he was never told to relinquish, no matter how much time had gone by.

Sometimes he would see others there, people mourning, a well-lit funeral, sometimes Abberline knelt down and prayed for the victims of their cases, or Lizzie came by to pay he respects to her aunt and uncle. But the person he would see most often, (understandably), was the Undertaker. The first time he had seen him, Undertaker had been more than a little curious:

“Now what would a creature like you be doing leaving flowers before gravestones?”

Sebastian turned to see him leaning against a nearby headstone.

“The Young Master has asked me to.” The demon smiled pleasantly.

“Ah, should have known. Always ‘Young Master’ this, ‘Young Master’ that. Must get tiring after a while.” He tapped a long nail on the stone.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he muttered.

Undertaker laughed.

“Still,” he turned the sky, “I didn’t think the Earl was so sensitive.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Oh nothing, just wondering.” Undertaker chuckled. “Just thinking that maybe there’s hope for him after all.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

But when he returned the next week, Sebastian noticed a blue rose in the midst of the flowers he left on the brother's grave. Sometimes others would add to his display, but adding one, to a single grave, was particularly strange. He lifted it, twisting the stem in his fingers, trying to decipher who left it.

Red roses were for romance. White for innocence. Pink for grace. Yellow for friendship. And black for death.

And blue; for attaining the impossible.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #undertaker #kuroinktober #kuroinktober 2018 #cemetery #writing #fic #fanfic #antihero writings

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i-prefer-the-term-antihero · 6 years ago

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His Butler, Cemetery: Chapter 1

Fic Summary: Four visits to the cemetery, each growing in emotional intensity, and spanning backwards in time.

Spoilers for the current arc!!

Chapter Title: The Problem of the Flowers

Character Focus: Sebastian

Notes: I have just learned that posts with links will no longer show up in searches 😠😔 So I’m going back and reposting all my fanfic posts without links, just to make sure people can see them.

I started writing this fic a while back for Kuroinktober 2018 Prompt 17: Cemetery. I thought these chapters were short enough to just post on here, but if you enjoy this I would really appreciate it if you also left me a comment on Ao3!! The fic is under the same name, and my username there is I_prefer_the_term_antihero

Chapter 1:

He never asked to go to the cemetery. Not once. Of course, Sebastian knew, it wasn’t really the kind of place one asks to go to in the first place.

Perhaps most often than anything, he would bring flowers.

White lilies, and pink carnations, lavender, and geraniums, roses, lilac, and peonies.

He wondered if his Young Master knew what they all meant.

Purity and love for his mother. Devotion, determination, gentility for his father. Innocence and bravery for his brother.

Pretty little words that meant nothing to the boy who had lost them all.

Were they his reason for coming so often; to lay a pile of lifeless words at their feet?

Or were they merely an excuse for something greater? But an excuse for what greater thing? To stand there looking forlorn?

Nevertheless, it was there his Master went, and it was Sebastian’s job to know why.

If he couldn’t, what kind of a butler would he be?

He cycled through the human emotions—(he kept them on a list).

Or perhaps he was always in mourning.

How about pity? Did he feel sorry for those in the ground?

No, there was nothing to make him feel sorry for them, and surely he thought they had it better.

Was it anger? Some show of pride, injustice, distain? Was he angry at them for dying? For leaving him here alone?

He’d bookmark it. But it didn’t seem enough to drag him back here.

Not a very creative reason, but an adequate one.

So the flowers must be some convoluted way to overpower the stench of his own guilt.

The demon licked his lips. He couldn’t help it, things like guilt only made the soul more delicious.

Still, he had to curb his desires, and while guilt could be a fine delicacy, these visits were growing tiresome.

Now that he had enough information, he decided to come before the boy himself.

“Young Master?”

The boy didn’t look up from his paperwork.

“If I might, there is a personal question I would like to ask you.”

“You and your bloody personal questions,” he muttered, taking the papers off the desk, leaning back and putting his feet on the table, “Well, there’s no use dragging it on; out with it.”

“I have often noticed you visiting the cemetery.”

The boy froze.

“Why just this week—”

“You…You were spying on me?!” he spun around and stood up, slamming the paperwork on the desk.

Ah. If he wasn’t mistaken, this was the emotion called anger.

“Only in a manor of speaking. It is my job to see to your personal well-being is it not?”

“That doesn’t excuse you—you—”

“My apologies. Would you like me to amend our contract to include—?”

“No, no,” he groaned, slumping back into his chair, rubbing his temple.

“It appears I’ve crossed some line.”

“Like you can see the lines,” he scoffed under his breath.

The air was stirring with the boy’s half-baked emotions.

“Are you finished here?” the Young Master asked.

Sebastian mulled over how to phrase it. “I hate to drag this on, but I never did receive the opportunity to ask my question.”

“Your question wasn’t...? Ugh. Fine, what is it?”

“Would you like me to bring flowers to their graves?”

The boy blinked. “Huh?”

“I merely thought that would be much easier, seeing as you were never one for things like sentiment.”

The Young Master bit his lip, glaring at the nothing in particular in the corner of the room, “No, I would not. Now please leave me to do my work in peace.”

Sebastian bowed. “Yes my Lord. My apologies for even bringing it up.”

But a few days later, when he was having tea with Lizzie, The Young Master motioned for him to come close.

“Yes, Young Master?”

“That thing you mentioned the other day, about the flowers?”

“What of it?”

“Please do it.”

“Of course, my Lord.” He stood, “Happy to be of assistance.”

******

Sebastian knelt down before the headstones, setting the flowers in neat little piles by each.

And now death would become something far worse for him than it ever could have been before.

“Now what would a creature like you be doing leaving flowers before gravestones?”

Sebastian turned to see him leaning against a nearby headstone.

“The Young Master has asked me to.” The demon smiled pleasantly.

“Ah, should have known. Always ‘Young Master’ this, ‘Young Master’ that. Must get tiring after a while.” He tapped a long nail on the stone.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he muttered.

Undertaker laughed.

“Still,” he turned the sky, “I didn’t think the Earl was so sensitive.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Oh nothing, just wondering.” Undertaker chuckled. “Just thinking that maybe there’s hope for him after all.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

Red roses were for romance. White for innocence. Pink for grace. Yellow for friendship. And black for death.

And blue; for attaining the impossible.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #kuroinktober #kuroinktober 2018 #kuroinktober day 17 #kuro spoilers #prompt fill #prompt #cemetery #inktober #inktober 2018

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kadtherine · 8 years ago

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Rip stiffened an umpteenth yawn, his eyes closing as he slouched further into his chair. Clearing his throat, he cracked his neck and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes wide-opened as he tried to focus on Golding’s Lord of the Flies, his grip tightening on the book as it wouldn’t fall off his hands. He should probably go to sleep instead of reading about lost boys stranded on an island, he thought to himself as he re-read the last couple of sentences, frowning in concentration. On one hand, sleeping meant rest and a good hygiene of life and not going insane. On the other, sleeping meant nightmarish dreams and being locked in a prison he had helped design. Sleeping meant the possibility of not waking up in control. Sleeping would have to wait for him to have a firm grasp on reality. Until then, coffee and black tea – anxiety and insomnia - would suffice to keep him awake.

A soft snore startled him out of his thoughts, his head snapping to the side of his study. He relaxed, letting out a breath at the sight of Sara frowning in her sleep, the covers pulled to her chin and a leg hanging out of the couch. While it hadn’t been that late when everyone decided to retreat to their quarters, the last few days had been overwhelming and rest was well earned. Both Rip and Sara had moved to his study, the latter adding live comments while he caught on previous missions through, surprisingly, well redacted and accurate reports. Rip hadn’t had the heart – the courage – to wake her up when he had noticed that she had fallen asleep. Running his fingers through his hair, Rip closed the book and threw it onto his desk, scratching his trimmed beard.

“Alright, I fixed the jumpship and there’s no more gaping hole on the left side of the ship. We’re good and ready to go, sir.”

Rip jumped at Jax’s entrance in his study, earning a small snort from the latter. He actually had to do a double take, assuring himself that the younger man’s presence wasn’t a hallucination born of his boredom and sleep-deprivation. Seeing as he didn’t disappear no matter how much he blinked, Rip gathered that he was real. It did nothing to ease his confusion and explain as to why Jax was standing in front him, his arms crossed and the ghost of a smile on his face.

“You’re talking me,” Rip muttered, more to convince himself that to start a conversation.

“Well, yeah,” Jax retorted, wearing a frown of his own, “I don’t think Sara would be okay with me calling her sir.”

Rip didn’t dare blink as he stared at the engineer with intent, his brow furrowed. Jax stared back, his eyes narrowed as if trying to pry into his mind to see his thoughts, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Clearing his throat, he plastered a small smile on his face and clapped his hands, as if the gesture and noise would put to the tension surrounding them.

“I just wanted to come in and inform about the repairs being done,” he explained, nervously twisting his hands, “and that I was going to crash.”

Rip was able to nod in response, showing that he had processed what had been said to him, and watched as Jax gave him a small salute before retreating out of his study backward. The second he stepped over the threshold, Rip jumped out of his chair, his name on the tip of his tongue and a million questions burning in the back of his throat.

“Jax, wait,” Rip croaked, crossing the space in a matter of seconds and meeting a perplexed Jax on the other side. Rubbing his dry lips with the back of his hand, he sighed, “Why are you talking to me?”

“Because I thought you would like to know about your ship’s status,” he replied, his frown deepening.

“No, no, I meant-“ Rip closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, grimacing at his wording, “We haven’t had the occasion to really talk and,” he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes now staring at a point behind Jax’s head, “I would’ve thought that you wouldn’t want talk to me.”

Rip didn’t need to look at him to know his expression, confusion-letting place to understanding as the air around them thickened. His jaw clenched, he reminded himself to breath while Jax pondered over his words, looking for an adequate answer. There weren’t much to think about, to Rip’s opinion: there were only two choices of response possibly and he was pretty sure what it would be. His eyes snapped to Jax when the latter let out a sigh.

“Things have been kinda crazy lately, man,” Jax agreed with a nonchalant shrug, “And you just came back, so we’re all trying to give you some air and time for you to get better. Still, it doesn’t me that I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rip was sure that there were only two choices of response and, yet, the one Jax gave him didn’t correspond to any of them. Gaping at the younger man for a minute, he, then, closed his mouth and tilted his head to the side, inwardly replaying the words as if looking for a secret code within them. He turned back to Jax, his eyebrows frowned and his eyes almost pleading for an explanation.

“Look, I’m not stupid nor naïve,” Jax started again, his arms crossed against his chest and his posture defiant as if daring him to argue with him – which he would obviously not do, “And while I can’t possible begin to understand what you’ve been through those last months, I know you. Most importantly, I know how to make the difference between regular Rip Hunter and a mindless puppet.”

At that, Rip let out a self-deprecating snort, much to Jax’s confusion. Ignoring him, he walked back toward his desk, eyeing the uncorked bottle of whisky placed to a couple of glass. With a sigh, he poured himself half a drink, vaguely aware of the sound of Jax’s steps as he re-entered the office. With a sigh, Rip turned back around, leaning against his desk.

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” he muttered, swirling his drink in his tumbler and barely noticing Jax mimic his posture, “I wasn’t a complete mindless puppet, that’s what makes it worse. I still, somewhat, had control over my thoughts and actions. Didn’t need Darkh or Thawne whispering in my ear to crash the Waverider in the Jurassic.”

Oblivious to the younger man’s aggravated groan and eye roll, Rip downed the drink in one-go, wincing at the taste and the churning of his stomach. Maybe he should actually eat something before drinking himself into oblivion. Clearing his throat, he rolled the glass between his hands, his jaw clenched.

“Look, correct me if I’m wrong but you were locked and held prisoner in your mind,” Jax said, his tone light and slightly teasing. Rip’s flinch at the reminder went unnoticed, “It didn’t scream control to me.”

Closing his eyes, he let a breath through his nose and clenched his hand around his glass, the slight ache reminding him that it was real and not just a figment of his imagination. His eyes snapped back, immediately falling on the whiskey bottle and he briefly considered about switching it with his glass before thinking better of it and covering it with the tumbler. Rubbing a hand over his face, he slowly turned to face Jax, swallowing a sigh of relief when he’s met with his usual warm and brown gaze instead of burning red eyes.

“I tried to kill you,” he breathed out, wincing at the words echoed against the walls. His gaze fell on Sara’ motionless form for a second and he was to remind himself that she was simply sleeping, “I killed her.”

Jax ‘s gaze didn’t waver – nor did his eyes changed colour – as he glanced at Sara before he looked back at her, giving a small shrug.

“Looks like you failed to me,” he retorted, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Which did nothing but infuriate him further. With a groan, Rip pushed himself away from his desk and put some distance between Jax and himself, his hands buried in his hair as he began to pace around the office, trying to reign in his hysteria. He didn’t understand how could they laugh or make light of the situation; there had been nothing laughable about it. Clenching his fists to his side, he stopped in his pacing and turned back to Jax, the latter looking at him with curiosity and a bit of wariness. Good, Rip thought, they should all be wary.

“You should hate me,” he declared, to which Jax responded with a cocked eyebrow, as if saying ‘Should I?’ and Rip was torn between rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and shouting at him for his obliviousness, “All of you should hate me.”

“I don’t know, man. I think you’re hating yourself enough for all of us,” Jax retorted. He raised a hand, stopping him before Rip could even think about to protest, “I’m going to stop you right there. What were you expecting? For us to kick you and beat up? Lock you up in the brig without any food for God knows how long? I’m sorry but I think you’ve got us mistaken with Savage.”

Rip glowered at the mention and swallowed his retort about how he had gotten used to being held prisoner by his own crew, on his own ship.

“I was pretty mad, not going to lie,” Jax continued and Rip snapped out of his dark thoughts because finally, someone was talking sense, “At you for scattering us throughout time – which I know you did to protect us, but next time you plan on sending us to play jesters for his Majesty King Joffrey, I’d appreciated a warning. At the Legion, for reducing you to a shell of yourself. At us, for not doing anything to prevent it, for not looking harder for you,”

Jax stayed silent for a moment, his jaw clenched as he stared down at his worn out sneakers, as if they held all the replies to his doubts. Rip didn’t speak; he didn’t dare blink nor move. Instead, he stared at the young man in front of him in bewilderment and awe, wondering when the insecure, youngest and less exuberant member of his crew had grown into such a fine man. He couldn’t help the small, prideful smile that pulled at his lips, Jax oblivious as he pulled himself together.

“And then, you were back,” Jax sighed, his arms hitting his thighs ad they fell to his side, “And there wasn’t any reasons for me to hold a grudge or stay mad, I guess. You were back and that was all that mattered,” he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck, “Beside, I tried to kill you too, so we’re even,” he added with a smirk.

Rip barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes at the widening of Jax’s smirk.

“Must’ve been a Wednesday,” he shot back, his tone joking and his mind surprisingly quiet. Sobering at the sound of Jax’s chuckle, he cleared his throat and slowly walked back toward the younger man, “Mr Jackson, I am truly sorry for what I’ve put you through and-“

“I know,” Jax interrupted, his smile genuine as he pushed himself off the desk, “And I told you, it’s cool. All I care about is you being back and alright.”

Rip was far from being alright and, meeting the younger man’s intent stare, he knew that Jax was aware of it and wasn’t fooling himself into thinking that everything was fine and dandy. But they would be, eventually, and he would get better. He would have to, for his and their sake. Putting a hesitant, yet none trembling hand on Jax’s shoulder, Rip let out a breath and gave him a determined nod.

“I’m getting there, Mr Jackson. I’m getting there.”

His smile widening, Jax took him by surprise by wrapping his arms around his shoulders and bringing him into a hug. Blinking, it took him a minute to register what had happened before his own arms went around Jax, his chin going to rest on his shoulder as he returned the embrace, patting his back. Eventually, Jax pulled back, a sigh escaping his mouth and his hands squeezing his shoulders.

“It’s good to have you back, Rip.”

“It’s great to be back, Jax,” Rip nodded, returning his smile. It widened into an amused grin at the younger man’s jaw dislocating yawn, “Go on, and get some sleep. We’ll be fine for now,” he said, gently pushing him out of the office.

“You too,” he shot back, stiffening another yawn, “Well, at least try,” Jax added after the grimace that had appeared on his face.

Not feeling like making a promise he wasn’t sure he would keep, Rip settled for nodding again and, thankfully, the small gesture seemed to satisfy Jax. His hands buried in his pockets, he watched with a lighter heart and slight amusement, as the younger man made his way off of the bridge, a hand held out in front of him as if he was readying to steady himself if he were to fall.

“Gideon, lights at 20% if you would,” he asked, running his fingers through his hair.

He smiled tiredly at the silent compliance as he made his way to the couch where Sara had taken residence and fallen asleep. After a moment of hesitance, he carefully lifted her legs, stopping in motion when she began stirring, nearly kicking him in the face. He let out a sigh of relief when she finally settled, a hand on her stomach and the other under her head. Sitting down with a groan, Rip rested her legs back onto his lap, pulling the blankets to cover his and Sara’s lower halves. His arms crossed against his chest, he leaned his head back, sunk into the couch and focused on the slow rise and fall of Sara’s stomach as she breathed, finding it strangely soothing.

Rip didn’t know how he, somehow, had found himself laying down and bundled in blankets. Judging by the fact that he actually felt rested and that Sara was nowhere to be find, he gathered that he had fallen asleep. Frowning, he pushed back his covers and sat up, stretching his arms over his head.

“Gideon, what time is it?” Rip croaked, rubbing his eyes.

“It is 12:34 in the afternoon, Captain. You’ve been asleep for thirteen hours: it’s a new personal record,” Gideon responded, sounding slightly smug.

He groaned in response, slipping on a discarded sweater he had grabbed from his desk chair before he made his way to the kitchen in search of food and tea. The sight that greeted as he arrived made him stop in the threshold. Sara was sitting on the counter, dangerously close to the stove, a plate on her lap as she alternated between talking with Amaya and stuffing her mouth with food. Nate and Ray sat around the table while arguing about Ford’s best role in the Lucas-verse, to which Martin participated with the occasional eye rolls before turning back to Wells’ The Time Machine. Mick was sitting in the corner, balancing his beer on his knee while keenly observing Jax as the latter tinkered with his gun, a concentrated frown on his face.

Rip swallowed the lump in his throat as he bounced nervously from foot to foot, eyeing the scene in front of him as if he were afraid to intrude. At the same time, there was some kind of familiarity that pulled him in. He felt his heartbeat quicken when his gaze met Sara’s expectant stare, a fork dangling from her mouth.

“Would you look at that, Sleeping Beauty is up,” Sara announced, smirking at his scoff as she slid down the counter.

“More like Queen Elizabeth,” Mick muttered to himself, whom Rip didn’t chose to acknowledge, his arms crossed against his chest.

“Can I interest you in a cup of tea, Rip?” Martin proposed, getting up from his chair and moving to the teakettle before he could protest.

“Thank you, Martin,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he entered the room, “You needn’t bother yourself, though.”

“It’s not bother at all,�� the older man assured, shoving a warm mug into his hands and patting his shoulder.

Rip responded with a small smile and grateful nod and sat down next to Ray, the latter barely blinking at the sudden appearance. Somehow, he managed to be dragged into his and Nate’s argument, receiving a sympathetic look from Martin as the latter turned back to his reading, ear buds shoved in. As she passed him by, Sara dropped a grilled cheese in front of him, giving his shoulder a small squeeze as she returned to her conversation with Amaya, ignoring the confused look he shot her. Sighing, he leaned back into his chair and brought the warm cup to his chest, the argument fading into the background as he took another look around the room. Meeting Jax’s smug, seemingly all-knowing stare, Rip tilted his head to the side and lifted an eyebrow in question. Jax responded with a smirk and waggled his eyebrows, his gaze moving to each member of the crew before it fell back on him, as if saying ‘what did I tell you’.

Rolling his eyes, Rip lifted his mug in acknowledgement before putting it back onto the table and leaning onto it, smiling to himself. Maybe finding his place back into the team wouldn’t be as difficult as he had thought.

It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

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tali-zora · 8 years ago

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Cadet Holmes: A Detective Undercover

Oh. My. God. What have I done? This was meant to be a quick little ficlet about Sherlock swooning over Captain Watson. It’s turned into a monster, over 6,000 words long. I blame @inevitably-johnlocked and the watchalong crew. An innocent screening of Mulan has turned into this smut fest.

I hope you all enjoy it, I tried to make it funny as well as sexy.

Warnings: military kink, public sex, swearing, a tiny bit of homophobia, Sherlock has a dirty mind, there is a scene that doesn’t have explicitly obvious consent but they both want it, there is a crime scene in this but I tried not to describe the body much, explicit sex happens and as it’s a smut fic they don’t use protection.

“You’re looking for a Military man, with a history of domestic violence, who is employed by the London University and who lied on his army admittance forms as he is colorblind.”

“How did you know he was colour blind?” Lestrade asked looking puzzled by Sherlock’s last deduction.

“Obvious. Open your eyes Lestrade. Look. Really Look.” Sherlock sighed impatiently. “I don’t have time to explain everything to you like a child. We need to catch the murderer before he kills again.”

Lestrade’s shoulders dropped in defeat, “Right, I’ll just take your word for it then… Again.”

“As you should, Lestrade. I don’t understand why we go through this every time-” Sherlock broke off his usual rant as his phone started to ring in his pocket. Sherlock pulled out the smartphone and glanced at the screen before swiping to accept.

“What do you want Mycroft?”

“You’ll be pleased to know, little brother that you have been accepted into Her Royal Majesty's Army Reserve. You are to report to the University of London to begin your training tomorrow at 0500 hours.”

“You’re sending me back to school?”

“How interesting that you deem it appropriate knowledge to keep in your ‘harddrive’ that to be a member of the ULOTC you must first be enrolled as a student at London University.”

“How many cakes have you had today Mycroft? One? Three? Hmm, perhaps four? Oh and a cupcake. My my, you’ll never lose those 5 pounds at this rate, failing your new year's resolution already. How telling.”

“Your uniform will be delivered tonight. Don’t be late brother.”

Sherlock ended the call and looked back at Lestrade. “Mycroft has arranged for me to go undercover to find our murderer with the ULOTC. I will, of course alert you immediately once I have found him.”

Lestrade frowned and opened his mouth to say something but Sherlock cut him off. “Yes, yes… I will not go after the murderer on my own, really Lestrade.”

“Okay then. Give me a call once you’ve settled in.”

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

The uniform had already been delivered by the time Sherlock made it back to 221B. One of Mycroft's minions had actually laid it out on his bed. Standard army camo fatigues, including belt, boots and hat. Sherlock just stood in his bedroom doorway for several minutes staring at the uniform before he felt ready to approach it.

The closer he got the hotter his cheeks felt. It was crazy, since Sherlock had hit puberty he had experienced a strong reaction to anything army related. It was extremely embarrassing and he had expected to grow out of the obsession but it only seemed to get worse the older he got.

Mycroft had never forgotten Sherlock’s little secret kink when he had searched his little brothers room and found his stash of military magazines stuffed between his mattress and the slats on his bed. It was intolerable.

Sherlock took a deep breath and reached out to lightly brush his fingers across the heavy fabric of the uniform. The shudder that rocked through his whole body was entirely involuntary and hateful. He needed to get over this reaction fast because if he was this affected by an empty uniform on a bed how would he deal with being surrounded by fit men wearing the uniforms while they got hot and sweaty.

Sherlock groaned and let himself fall face first onto his bed. “I am in hell.”

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

Wearing the uniform wasn’t that bad. It appeared that Sherlock wasn’t affected by himself being in military dress, only other people. That was a huge relief. The biggest pain had been slathering on a monstrous amount of pomade to get his hair to slick back and lay flat on his head. It felt heavy and hard and was really uncomfortable but Sherlock hated how his hair curled up like wings on either side of his head under the hat more.

Under his new uniform Sherlock had, pre-emptively wore his tightest pair of pants. He knew from previous experience he would be at least half had for most of the day just being near military personnel. Once those personnel turned their attention on him and started barking orders, all bets were off. Sherlock hoped he would be able to keep his composure long enough to find the murderer quickly so he could get out of there as fast as possible.

When the detective arrived at London University he went straight to the officers building to talk to the recruiter. He would know, thanks to Mycroft that he wasn’t actually enrolling officially and was only there temporarily. Thankful for small miracles Sherlock knocked firmly on the door and waited to be invited inside.

“Come in.”

Sherlock opened the door and immediately had to clench his teeth to stop the gasp that wanted to escape. The recruiter was a middle-aged man, clean-shaven and hair cut military short. He wore an officer's uniform, his white hat resting to the left on his desk. As Sherlock entered the man stood and offered his hand.

With a deep breath Sherlock stepped forward and shook it, the hand was calloused, rough and strong. This was torture.

“Mr Holmes I believe?” The man said with a thin smile. “Your brother, told me to expect you this morning. My name is Major Taylor Jones. Welcome to London University.”

--------

Sherlock had been mistaken, hell wasn’t being alone in his bedroom with empty army fatigues. Hell was standing at attention in a line up of fit 20-35 year old men all in uniform waiting for their Captain to inspect their uniforms.

“Cadet Williams!” The Captain snapped as he walked along the line.

“Sir!”

“Retie those laces, now.”

“Yes Sir! Sorry Sir!” Williams immediately dropped to one knee and began re-tying his laces quickly. Sherlock gulped and let his breath out slowly. He could feel sweat on the back of his neck already.

The Captain continued walking down the line, yelling out occasionally to Cadets who had not adequately dressed, shined their shoes or missed a belt loop. He was getting closer and closer to Sherlock’s position in line and every step sent a shiver down his spine. The Captain was beyond perfection.

He was short, but broad. Clearly still very fit, especially for a man approaching 40. His hair was blond but it was lightened further with a hint of silver, that only showed when the early morning light hit it just right. His hands looked strong and capable, his stride confident and his fatigues were pressed and starched beautifully. Sherlock let his eyes take in all the information he could about the Captain. Single, veteran of at least 20, maybe 25 years. Trained as a trauma surgeon. Wounded in action, left shoulder. Most likely a bullet wound.

The Captain glanced at him and their eyes met, and as cliche as the saying was it really felt like the world stopped for a moment, and his heart skipped several beats. Sherlock immediately stiffened his posture and returned his gaze forward. He could actually feel the heat radiating off his face.

“Cadet Holmes, welcome to the ULOTC. My name is Captain John Watson. I hope you are ready to work hard.”

“Yes Sir!” Sherlock gasped. Oh god, oh god, oh god. How was he going to do this? He could barely focus on anything but Captain Watson. He was supposed to be finding the murderer not blushing and swooning like a Jane Austen character because the military man spoke to him. Sherlock gritted his teeth and kept his focus on one of the high windows in the building across the field. After a moment's hesitation Captain Watson continued his inspection down the line.

-----

Running around a field with an erection was new. Captain Watson had decided to start today's training with a warm up, he was leading the group at a fast, but steady pace. The cadets were to run in formation behind for four laps before they would run movement drills with weighted equipment.

The Captain had Sherlock placed at the front of the group right behind him so that he could watch Sherlock closely. This meant that Sherlock had to watch John Watson run, watch his legs stride powerfully. Watch his back move and flex as his arms swung with his movements, and most importantly watch his arse pull the fatigues light across his cheeks as each leg swung forward.

Without warning Captain Watson turned and continued running backwards, he was obviously inspecting the formation. He watched Sherlock run for a moment, Sherlock could feel his cheeks getting hot and turning red again. With a wink, the Captain jogged off to the side and slowed his pace so he could fall back. “Keep it up Cadets! I don’t want to see you break pace!”

“Yes Sir!” The whole group shouted back.

“Cadet Hall! Lift those knees!”

“Yes Sir! Sorry Sir!”

“Cadet Singh you’re falling behind, pick up the pace! Left! Right! Left! Right! Keep it up!”

Sherlock’s steps faltered. This was unbearable, he was starting to chafe from the growing dampness seeping into his pants. Sherlock was struggling to remember ever being this brutally turned on. Oh how he wanted Captain Watson to pull rank on him, to shout at him to drop to his knees and open his trousers with his teeth. How would the Captain taste? What did his cock look like?

“Cadet Holmes!” Captain Watson’s sharp voice cut through his fantasy. “Are we going too fast for you?”

“No Sir!” Sherlock panted back, his spine was tingling. His feet felt too heavy and too light at the same time.

“Keep up Holmes!”

“Yes Sir!”

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

Sherlock leaned exhausted, against the door and groaned pitifully at the stairs the he would need to climb to make it up to his flat. Captain Watson was the devil. After running four laps of the field he’d allowed the cadets a moment to catch their breath and drink some water before they had to suit up with weighted packs and run through several obstacle courses.

With a defeated sigh Sherlock began dragging himself up the stairs and into the shower. His previous guess about chafing proved to be correct and after a long hot shower Sherlock applied some cream and flopped naked onto his bed. He was asleep before he even had a chance to wriggle under the covers.

“Cadet Holmes, is there something I can do for you?” Captain Watson said as he stood up from his desk. Sherlock was in the officers building again, but this time instead of Major Jones to greeting him it was John Watson.

“I need to interview your recruits. It’s a police matter, I’m looking for a murderer who I believe is a part of your squad.”

The Captain re-took his seat behind his desk and his eyes swept up and down Sherlock’s body. “I see, will you be needing to interview the officers as well?”

Sherlock blushed, “Ahm… Yes.’

“I’m afraid Major Jones has been called away, you can start with me if you like.” The Captain offered. “I’m free now in fact. Please, Holmes have a seat. Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee or a glass of water perhaps?”

“No thank you.” Sherlock pulled out a chair from the desk but the Captain interrupted him.

“Why don’t you have a seat here, Cadet.” Watson pushed his chair back further from his desk and patted his lap invitingly. Sherlock felt heat pool low in his belly, he stepped around the desk and slipped onto the Captain's lap.

As Watson stroked a hand down Sherlock’s back he suddenly realised, as was the way with dreams, that he was naked. “Oh!” Sherlock gasped, the Captain grinned at him and leaned in to lick at his neck.

“You did so well today Cadet. I’m proud of your performance.”

“Ah!”

“So responsive, I adore the sounds you make Sherlock.”

“Guh!”

“Can you feel how hard you make me Cadet?”

“Mmmhff!”

“Good boy.” The Captain lifted him and laid him on his back across the desk, Sherlock’s legs wrapped around his waist. “Now, I want you to scream for me.”

Sherlock landed with a thump on the floor next to his bed. He was rock hard and covered in sweat. “Oh god!” Sherlock groaned and grasped himself firmly, he only had to stroke himself twice before he was cumming all over his hand. “Fuck!” Sherlock shuddered and collapsed back onto the floor.

-------

“You’re late Cadet Holmes.” Captain Watson snapped at him as he jogged onto the field.

“Obviously.” Sherlock rolled his eys, he was in a very bad mood this morning. Waking up on the floor covered in dried semen was not an enjoyable experience. Being greeting by the main attraction of his dreams last night in such an unfriendly manner wasn’t helping.

Captain Watson’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, “Did you just talk back to me Cadet?”

Sherlock groaned, the tingles shooting up and down his spine were just annoying him today. He really wasn’t looking forward to another day running around and trying not to collapse into a puddle of goo at Captain Watson’s feet. He had a criminal to catch.

The Captain clapped his hands loudly right in front of Sherlock face, which caused him to jump. “Now I have you attention Cadet Holmes, I want you to drop and give me twenty pushups. Now.”

Sherlock was on his knees before the Captain so fast he hadn’t even understood what he’d been asked. His heart was thumping so hard and fast in his chest he could hardly breathe. Captain Watson took a step back away from Sherlock. “Whoa, Holmes are you okay? Have you eaten this morning?”

Sherlock panted heavily, “I can’t remember.”

“Right, get up and come with me.”

------

The Captain shoved a brown paper bag, which obviously contained his pre-packed lunch into Sherlock's arms. “I’m leaving you in Major Jones capable hands. I don’t want to see you again until next week when you’re ready to put some real effort into training. And for god's sake, eat!” Watson snapped and closed the Officer’s door behind him.

“Mr Holmes?” Major Jones asked as he looked up from his desk.

“I need to review all the recruits personnel files.” Sherlock said as he gulped air and readjusted his fatigues.

------

“Sherlock Holmes!” Mrs Hudson gasped as she walked into 221B. “What on earth have you done to my bloody wall?”

Sherlock glanced up from where he was bent uncomfortably over some files on the ULOTC recruits. So far he’d not found any leads on which one was the murderer and he was running out of time. There was a chance that the killer could strike again. The wall in question was covered in photos of all the male recruits in uniform pinned to the wall.

“I’m taking this out of your rent, again!” Mrs Hudson yelled as she stomped into the kitchen and began making him a sandwich.

“It cannot be helped Mrs Hudson, I need to think. I need to find this criminal and I’m running out of time!”

“That may be young man, but you need to learn not to stick pins in my walls!”

“Apologies Mrs Hudson, once the case is complete I will have someone fix the holes.”

“I should hope so!”

------

“Lestrade? Has there been another one?” Sherlock asked when he picked up his phone later that evening.

“Afraid so. Meet me outside London University?”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

------

The body of the secretary was found in the same pose as the previous two had been. She was tied up in a kneeling position in front of the Queen Victoria statue. The words ‘Hail Empress of India’ had again been printed in large block letters and stapled to the victim's chest. Her head fell back at an unnatural angle proving that her neck had been broken, the same cause of death as the previous victims.

“It doesn’t get any easier.” Lestrade sighed as he watched the forensic team take photos and samples all around the woman.

“She worked at the University, same as the other two. She was knocked unconscious brought here and tied up, looks like this one woke up before he broke her neck. There are signs of struggle around the ropes.” Anderson explained.

“Obviously Anderson, I have eyes.” Sherlock huffed. “Just because you need the most obvious of facts pointed out to you doesn’t mean we all do.”

“I still don’t understand why we’re wasting our time looking into the army reserves on campus, what about this scene could possibly point to the killer being in the military?” Anderson snarked.

“Shut up Anderson, you’re too stupid to have an opinion.” Sherlock crouched down beside the body and began his inspection. “The killer is a colonialist, he obviously believes quite strongly in the British Empire and wants to bring back military invasion and takeovers of smaller countries to bring Britain back to it’s former glory.”

“The note for example, ‘Hail Empress of India’ clearly the man idolises Queen Victoria for conquering India and bringing it under British rule. He wants to take an active role in this as he has proven by killing people who support the disbanding on the commonwealth and the release of all foreign countries under British ownership. Therefore the killer would be enlisted in the military.”

“We just need him to make a mistake, leave some evidence behind.” Sherlock frowned and pulled the paper off the body and flipped it over. “Ah ha! Bingo. We have a mistake.” On the back of the paper, still printed in large block letters were the words:

YOU’LL NEVER BE A REAL SOLDIER MR HOLMES

------

“Cadet Holmes, on time today I see.” Captain Watson greeted him with a small smile. “I hope you’ve eaten something this morning?”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry for my lateness last week I wasn’t having a very good day.” Sherlock flushed, he shouldn’t have said anything.

The Captain glanced over him with a considering look on his face. “I see, but that’s no excuse Cadet. Your punishment still stands. Drop and give me twenty push-ups, now.”

“Yes Sir!” Sherlock fell to his knees again then got into position and began the exercise.

“I want to hear you count Cadet! One!” The Captain bent down so he could yell into Sherlock’s ear. His breath was hot and excruciatingly distracting.

“One!” Sherlock gasped at the top of his push up before lowering himself down again.

“Keep those hips down Cadet, I don’t want to see you lifting your arse above your shoulders!” The Captain turned to look down over Sherlock’s posture.

“Sorry Sir!” Sherlock panted, this was harder than it looked. Especially with an erection. Sherlock couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this many erections in one week. Possibly not since he was fourteen years old.

“I don’t hear any counting Cadet, start again! One!”

“Fuck!” Sherlock groaned, his arms were starting to shake. “One!”

The sound of many boot falls drew Sherlock’s attention away from what he was doing and he glanced over towards the group of recruits who had lined up near the Captain.

“Good morning everyone, we’re going to skip inspections today lucky you. I want you all to do four laps of the field while Holmes completes his punishment. I’ll be watching so keep up the pace! Go! Left! Right! Keep those knees high Cadet Hall!”

“Yes Sir!” The group answered as one and then took off at a brisk run.

“Holmes! I still don’t hear any counting! Do I need to count for you? Have you forgotten?” The Captain returned to leaning over him and breathing on Sherlock’s neck.

“Ah! One!” Sherlock groaned.

“Again!” The Captain shouted. “T-Two!” Sherlock shuddered. His muscles clenched, his arms were shuddering and heat was pooling at the base of his spine. Oh god, he needed to stop.

“Keep your hips low!” Watson called out again and placed his hands on either side of Sherlock’s arse and readjusted their position. “If you don’t keep your posture straight you’ll pull a muscle. Now, down then push back up.”

Sherlock followed the Captain's directions, he lowered himself down then pushed with all his might. It was easier with him holding his hips. He didn’t have to think so much, but the heat and pressure of the Captains strong hands was distracting and making lightning bolts shoot along his spine.

“Ah-ah-ah three!” Sherlock panted and dropped down and pushed back up again. “F-Fuck-Four!”

The Captains hands moved away and he walked back up so he was bending down to look at Sherlock’s face. Sherlock was so involved in pushing himself up and down that he didn’t see the smirk on the Captain's face. Watson leaned down and blew hot breath over the back of Sherlock’s neck.

“Gah!” Sherlock gasped and his arms finally gave out and he collapsed in a heap on the grass. He was shaking, his muscles felt like jelly. His erection was wedged uncomfortably against the zipper of his fatigues, but he didn’t want to move.

The Captain crouched down beside Sherlock’s head, “That wasn’t twenty, Cadet. I didn’t tell you to stop.” his voice wasn’t loud and shouting anymore. It was deep and rough.

“I’m s-sorry sir, do you want me to start again?” Sherlock puffed and glanced up at the Captain. If his face could get any redder it certainly gave it a try. John Watson’s deep blue eyes were blown wide, his pupils were heavily dilated and Sherlock could tell his breathing and heart rate were elevated. He was aroused.

“You can continue where you left off. Clearly you’re not fit enough for twenty, so let’s drop it to ten. Can you manage that Holmes?”

“Yes Sir!” Sherlock lifted himself again and started counting. “Five!”

Watson’s hands reached out again and grasped his hips, tilting them down. This time though they didn’t stay on his hips, they moved to pat his bottom and then up to stroke over his shoulders.

“Ah! S-s-ssssix!” Sherlock hissed.

“Down lower Cadet. I want to see your hips brush the ground.” The Captain commanded.

“Oh!” Sherlock gasped and lowered himself down until he could just feel the pressure of the grass on his erection before pushing back up again. “S-seven!”

“Well done Cadet, keep going you’re almost there.” Watson praised.

“Gu-ah!” Sherlock cried out, he was so close. He was going to cum from doing pushups in the middle of a field. “Fuck!”

“Down again Holmes,” The Captain encouraged and grasped his hips one last time. He glanced up to see where his troop were. There were on the far side of the field, perfect.

“P-please!” It was too much, Sherlock needed something, anything. His arms hurt, his legs hurt his back hurt but his brain had short-circuited with the endorphins and adrenaline and was interpreting the signals as pleasure instead of pain. His whole body was tight and ready to snap.

“Eight.” The Captain was panting too as he pushed Sherlock’s hips down into a dip again. His cock pressing lightly against the ground. His hands slipped down and around to the front of Sherlock’s trousers and squeezed his cock.

“Nnnnnn-Nine!” Sherlock whined, he could feel it coming, his orgasm was coiled so tight in his belly he just needed something. “T-t-tennnn”

“Good boy.” The Captain groaned as he squeezed Sherlock’s cock one more time at the top of his push and it was over. Sherlock collapsed onto his face on the grass panting and twitching as his body pulsed with pleasure.

----------

Sherlock woke up laying on the couch in Major Jones’ office. His pants felt disgusting and all his muscles felt loose and uncoordinated. Sherlock pulled himself to his feet and looked around the empty room. There was something important that he’d thought of and wanted to check but he couldn’t think straight after the push-up session with the Captain.

Sherlock reached for a glass of water from the fountain beside the couch and took a few deep gulps of water. The cold helped him clear his mind. Sherlock strode over the the Major’s desk and began sifting through everything. It was a few moments later when Sherlock found what he’d been looking for. It was a list of all the Universities employee’s and their political views. The names of the victims he’d murdered had been crossed out. Bingo.

Sherlock froze at the sound of the office door opening, like a deer caught in headlights. Thankfully it wasn’t Major Jones who came into the room.

“Captain Watson” Sherlock greeting, trying not to collapse right there and then and plead with the man to finish what he’d started on the field and fuck him into next sunday.

“Sherlock Holmes.” He greeted back, “You know I knew you weren’t a real cadet the moment you walked onto the field. No one in their right mind with a military kink as strong as yours would be stupid enough to try to enlist. You could barely function.”

Sherlock’s mouth dropped open in shock, “I’m sorry?”

The Captain chuckled. “Oh don’t worry I know who you are, I looked you up. Googled you after the first day of training. Consulting Detective aye? Interesting. Not sure I believe all that stuff about deductions on your website though.”

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed, “Oh really?”

John grinned, “Really.”

“Can I borrow your phone?” Sherlock asked holding out his hand.

The Captain frowned at the sudden change of topic, but reached into his pocket and handed over his phone anyway. “What are you doing here then? Pretending to enlist?”

“I was undercover.” Sherlock said as he quickly texted Lestrade to come to the University as fast as possible, they needed to catch Major Jones before he claimed another victim.

“Undercover?” John asked.

“Yes, Major Jones is a budding serial killer and I’ve just found the evidence to put him away for a very long time. Thanks for putting me in his office, by the way.” Finished with the text Sherlock held out John’s phone.

The Captain took the phone back with a frown, “A serial killer, really?”

“Yes, he’s responsible for the deaths on campus.”

“Shit… Oh! Shit! We need to run.” John gasped and turned to the door.

“What? Why?”

“Jones just spoke to me in the hallway he’s leaving for the airport, said his Mum who lives abroad just got diagnosed with cancer.”

“Quickly! We need to catch him!” Sherlock shouted and ran after him.

------

Sherlock struggled to keep up with the Captain, after his earthshattering orgasm and push ups his limbs still didn’t want to listen to his brain properly. So he was very thankful to watch John vault over a fence and charge into the staff parking lot and crash tackle Major Jones to the ground. Sherlock pulled a pair of zip ties out of his trouser pocket and quickly tied up their killer.

“Let me go you nutters!” Major Jones yelled. “Fucking lunatics! What the hell Watson?”

“Did you really kill Amanda, Jess and Simone?” John growled and pulled Jones to his feet.

“Wh-What? No! No! Not me! I never saw them! Don’t know who they are!” Jones quickly rambled.

Sherlock scoffed, “With that kind of defence I don’t think we even need a confession. You’ve worked with these women for years Major, you can’t possibly say you don’t know who they are.”

“Fuck you! You Freak! I know who you are! Queer!” The Major sneered at Sherlock.

There was a crack and then Jones was on the ground again moaning pitifully and bleeding from a nasty split lip. Sherlock glanced up at the Captain, he’d just punched Major Jones in the face.

“Fuck you Taylor! You don’t get to use that word, it doesn’t belong to you.” Watson growled.

“Enough! Stop!” Sherlock grabbed The Captain's arm and pulled as he reached down for Jones again. He was going to hit him again. “Captain! Leave it!”

“It’s people like you…” Watson kicked out at Jones and rolled him over onto his back.

“John! Stop!” Sherlock yelled again and jabbed him in the side with the heel of his hand.

“Ow! Sherlock!” John winced, “Fucking-that hurt like a bitch. Do you go for all the guys kidneys first?”

“Just yours.” Sherlock smirked.

---------

“Would you like a demonstration?” Sherlock asked as they stood side by side leaning up against a flashing police car and watching the offices take Jones away.

“Of what?” John asked.

“My deductions?”

John shrugged, “Sure.”

“Obviously, you’re a military man, when I first saw you I knew you’d been on active duty for at least 19 years. Deployed multiple times. Trained as a trauma surgeon, but also a good enough soldier to be on the front lines as a medic. That’s where you got shot. At first I thought it might have been a sniper shot, but there aren’t many snipers who would take a body shot instead of waiting for a head shot. So a ricochet bullet then, from an AK47. In your left shoulder.”

“You have an intermittent tremor in your right hand, which is odd given the placement of your wound, I suspect shrapnel damage or perhaps nerve damage. Which leaves you without a steady hand to perform surgery and I would assume an honorable discharge from the army. Except they offered you a desk job and you took it. You couldn’t face the idea of being without some part of your identity.”

“You brother, Harry is an alcoholic who recently walked out on his wife. You met up with your brother upon your return to London, but once you found out about the breakup you stopped talking to him. Judging by your anger over the queer comment you’re gay and have obviously received some unfair treatment because of that fact in your past.”

Sherlock took a breath and turned to look at John. “How am I doing so far?”

“Brilliant.” John breathed. “You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen.”

Sherlock blushed and coughed, “That’s not what people usually say.”

“What do people usually say?”

“Piss off”

----------

The moment they walked into 221B Sherlock was, for the second time in as many weeks pressing his back against the door. This time however it wasn’t due to exhaustion, it was because Captain John Watson had shoved him against it and proceeded to devour his mouth.

It was glorious. John kissed like a starving man tasting fresh, cool water for the first time in years. Sherlock’s brain was playing an endless loop of ‘johnjohnjohncaptainjohnwatsoncaptainjohnjohnjohn’. Sherlock’s hands grasped onto John's arms and squeezed, they were firm and tense with muscle as John pressed him even harder against the door.

“Ah!” Sherlock gasped as John nipped at his bottom lip and slid his mouth down to suck on his collar bone.

“Your neck, so distracting. Fucking, teasing me this whole time. God. I wanted you so bad.” John growled between sucks, each time his mouth left off with a sharp wet popping noise.

“Captain!” Sherlock shouted. “Please, upstairs. My-my landlady… She lives on the-the… fuck, the ground floor.”

“Hmm…” John breathed over the saliva on Sherlock’s neck which caused them both to shudder. “Okay then.” With one quick movement John bent slightly, caught Sherlock around the hips and lifted him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

“John!” Sherlock grunted, “Put me down!”

“Nope, I don’t want you out of my arms for the next twelve hours at least, so this is the best solution. Up we go!” John chuckled and began to climb the stairs, his hands slid down from Sherlock’s hips to pat, group and squeeze Sherlock arse.

“Ah! John! Please!”

“Right which way to a bed, genius?” John asked as he shoved open the door to Sherlock’s living room with his other shoulder.

“Through the kitchen, door at the end of the hallway.”

John made his way quickly to Sherlock bedroom and tossed him down onto the bed. He didn’t waste any time covering Sherlock with his body and capturing his mouth again. They kissed and kissed and licked and sucked on each others tongues.

“Harry is my sister, not my brother.” John gasped between kisses, “It was shrapnel damaged that caused the tremor, our airlift took a direct hit and the side paneling on the chopper exploded.”

“Oh, there’s always something.” Sherlock panted into John’s mouth, “Wh-why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t want this to be a casual fuck, you are the most brilliant, sexy, frustrating man I have ever met and I don’t want to let you go. I want you to be mine. I want to be yours.”

“Oh!” Sherlock arched up into John, their chests and hips pressing against one another through their clothes.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” John asked pulling back and looking deep into Sherlock's eyes.

“No, not… Not until I met you.” Sherlock admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Wanting you. Fuck, John you made me cum in my pants by doing push ups. You’re perfect.”

John grinned. “That was so hot, I wanted to fuck you so bad and you kept sticking out your arse like an offering. Jesus Christ. Please let me, Sherlock please. I want to.”

“Oh god, yes! John please!”

It was a struggle for the two to separate long enough to completely undress, but they managed it. Once they were both naked coming back together again was glorious. Sherlock ran his hands up and down John’s back as he licked and sucked on the exit wound the bullet had created on his left pectoral muscle. John groaned and gasped as Sherlock continued to lavish attention on the scar. It was apparently hypersensitive.

John shifted down, his hand not holding him up sliding down Sherlock’s chest, he pinched and pulled at a hard nipple on his way and groaned as he watched Sherlock squirm and moan in response. John sat back on his heels and lifted Sherlock’s legs up, catching on Sherlock grasped his legs and held them up.

Sliding his hand up and down the back of Sherlock’s legs slowly getting closer and closer to his twitching erection, now turning purple with need John glanced away from the mouth watering sight and looked back up into Sherlock’s eyes. “Do you have any lube, love?”

“Yes! John, right hand side, top draw. Hurry.” Sherlock shuddered and pulled his legs down so they rested against his chest.

“Fucking hell, Sherlock you look amazing.” John quickly scrambled for the draw and the bottle of lube inside. With an impatient squeeze John had a handful of the cool jelly like substance. He reached back again for Sherlock's legs and pressed a few soft kisses to his thighs. “This might be a bit cold, sorry.”

Sherlock gasped as John spread the lube around his arsehole, rubbing and swirling his fingertips around the sensitive ring of muscle. “John! Please!”

With gentle pressure John pressed his index finger against Sherlock and slipped inside. He withdrew and entered again and again, using the lude to help ease his way inside. Sherlock moaned and panted with pleasure at every touch and John had to grasp himself firmly and squeeze to stop himself from ending their night too early.

“Fuck, Sherlock you. God, you’re so hot. You want it so bad, don’t you. You want my cock?” John panted and added another finger to the slow in out, in out movement.

“John! Ah! Yes! F-Fffuck! So good. Love it.” Sherlock babbled. “So good, please more! More!” John scissored his fingers and leaned down to press a kiss to Sherlock perineum. He licked and sucked on the soft flesh and mouthed as Sherlock’s balls which had drawn tight to his body already. “Johnjohnjohnjohn!” Sherlock chanted and rocked back onto John’s fingers.

“Damn, so tight! God you’re so greedy I can feel you pulling my fingers deeper inside you. Fuck, I can’t wait. Sherlock please? I need to be inside you.” John couldn’t watch Sherlock wriggle and pant anymore or he was going to explode.

“Yes! Hurry, hurry hurry! Please, want your cock! So much! John please! Now!” Sherlock pulled his legs back against his chest, he’d let go at some point but he couldn’t remember when.

John grabbed a pillow from beside Sherlock’s head and shoved it under his hips. “I’m here, love. Let’s cum together, if we can manage. Fuck you’re so hot!” John lined himself up with Sherlock’s hole and pushed in softly. As much as he wanted to just pound into Sherlock until they both came he didn’t want to hurt him.

“It’s fine, keep going. You can go faster. I’m good.” Sherlock encouraged and pulled John down so he could kiss his forehead. Their height difference meant that Sherlock couldn’t reach his lips but he could scrape his nails down John’s back and wrap his legs around his waist.

John groaned with pleasure as he bottomed out, he was all the way inside Sherlock. He could feel his heartbeat and the grasping, squeezing of the muscles as Sherlock adjusted to him. “Please, John… Move. Fuck me. God I need it.”

John gave one experimental thrust and then stopped again, “Count them.”

“Wh-what?” Sherlock gasped.

“Cadet Holmes, count how many times I shove my cock into your arse.” John commanded in his best ‘Captain’ voice. It was breathy and rough but it did the trick.

“Guh!” Sherlock squirmed again, “Yes Captain! Please!”

John pulled back and pushed in again, as Sherlock shouted one then two, then three. John started going faster and amazingly Sherlock kept up. John grasped Sherlock’s hips and tilted him. “Keep your hips down Cadet!” John gasped.

Sherlock keened loudly as John’s cock head dragged against his prostate. “Fuck! Ten! Fuck! Eleven! Captain!”

John leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth and that was it, Sherlock’s whole body went ridged and he yelled John’s name. Hot bursts of semen painted Sherlock and John’s chest. The exquisite squeeze from the contractions of Sherlock’s orgasm toppled John over the edge and he collapsed on top of the detective.

“John! Oh god, so good. Johnjohnjohnjohnjohn….” Sherlock mumbled and continued to run his hands soothingly up and down John’s back. “Perfect. You’re perfect.”

John leaned up and pressed a sloppy kiss to Sherlock’s lips. “Hmmm… You’re perfect too, love.”

Tags:

@consultingeastwind @averybritishbumblebee @mrsmetta2 @1895-doyle-and-bronte-obsessed @jawnxsherly @hollyberrypie @morganadelacour @lalnableleesh @noxlucum

#mine #johnlock ficlet #wow that got long fast #i hope you guys like it #i had fun writing it #sherlock your military kink is showing #and john loves it

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airoasis · 5 years ago

Text

Lessons from the Mental Hospital | Glennon Doyle Melton | TEDxTraverseCity

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/lessons-from-the-mental-hospital-glennon-doyle-melton-tedxtraversecity/

Lessons from the Mental Hospital | Glennon Doyle Melton | TEDxTraverseCity

Translator: Tijana Mihajlovi Reviewer: Denise RQ hello. I have been trying to weasel my way out of being on this stage for weeks. (Laughter) i’m terrified. But about a month ago, I was once up early, panicking about this, and i watched an ancient TED talk that Bren Brown did on vulnerability. Dr. Brown is one among my heroes. She is a shame researcher, and i am a recovering bulimic, alcoholic, and drug person. So i’m type of a disgrace researcher, too. (Laughter) it’s simply that almost all of my work is done out within the subject. (Laughter) And Dr. Brown defined courage like this. She mentioned, "braveness is to tell the story of who you are along with your whole heart." That acquired me serious about a different one in every of my heroes, Georgia O’Keeffe, and how she mentioned, "whether or not you prevail or not is beside the point.There’s no such thing. Making the unknown identified is what’s foremost." So, right here i’m to inform you the story of who i am with my entire heart, and to make some unknowns identified. When I was eight years historical, I began to believe uncovered, and that i started to think very, very awkward. Daily, I used to be pushed out of my condominium and into tuition, all oily, and pudgy, and conspicuous, and to me the other ladies appeared so cool, and collectively, and handy, and that i began to suppose like a loser in a world that favored superheroes.So I made my own capes, and that i tied them tight around me. My capes have been pretending and addiction. But all of us have our own superhero capes, don’t we? Perfectionism, and overworking, snarkiness, and apathy; they are all superhero capes. Our capes are what we put over our actual selves, in order that our real smooth selves do not ought to be obvious and are not able to be harm. Our superhero capes are what hold us from having to suppose a lot at all, considering each excellent and bad thing is deflected off of them. So, for 18 years, my capes of addiction and pretending stored me secure and hidden. Persons feel of us, addicts, as insensitive liars, but we don’t out that means. We out as totally touchy fact-tellers. We suppose a lot ache and so much love, and we feel that the sector doesn’t want us to feel that much, and would not need to want as so much relief as we’d like, so we start pretending.We attempt to pretend like we are the humans that we suppose we’re alleged to be. We numb, and we disguise, and we faux, and that pretending does eventually transform a lifetime of lies, but to be reasonable, we idea we have been alleged to be mendacity. They inform us seeing that have been little that after someone asks us how we’re doing, the one suitable answer is, "first-class. And you?" but the factor is that the people are truth-tellers. We are born to make our unknown known. We will be able to in finding someplace to do it. So in exclusive, with the booze, or the overshopping, or the alcohol, or the food, we inform the reality. We say, "absolutely, i am no longer quality." due to the fact we don’t think safe telling that reality in the true world, we make our possess little world, and that’s dependancy.That’s something cape you put on. So what occurs is all of us come to be living in these little, teeny, controllable, predictable, dark worlds as an alternative of all together in the tremendous, bright, messy one. I binged and purged for the primary time when I was once eight, and i continued each day for the following 18 years. Seems typical to me, however you’re amazed. (Laughter) each single time that I bought anxious, or concerned, or irritated, I suggestion some thing used to be mistaken with me. So I took that worried energy to the kitchen and that i stuffed all of it down with food, and then I panicked, and i purged, and in the end of that, I used to be laid out on the bathroom ground, and that i used to be so exhausted and so numb that I under no circumstances had to go back and maintain anything it was once that had made me uncomfortable within the first situation, and that is what I wanted. I didn’t need to take care of the soreness and messiness of being a individual. So, when I used to be a senior in excessive institution, I ultimately made up our minds to tell the reality in the actual world.I walked in my steerage counselor’s place of business and that i stated, "genuinely, i am not nice. Any person aid me." and i was once despatched to a mental clinic. In the mental clinic, for the first time in my life, I observed myself in a world that made experience to me. In excessive college, we had to care about geometry when our hearts had been breaking on the grounds that we have been simply bullied within the hallway, or no person would sit down with us at lunch, and we needed to care about historical Rome when all we quite wanted to do used to be gain knowledge of learn how to make and preserve an actual pal. We had to behave rough after we felt scared, and we had to behave confident when we felt relatively stressed. Appearing, pretending, was a subject of survival. High university is form of like the true world often, but within the intellectual clinic, there was no pretending. The gig was up. (Laughter) We had lessons about the right way to specific how we relatively felt through track, and artwork, and writing. We had lessons about methods to be a just right listener, and be brave sufficient to inform our own story while being variety adequate to not tell any one else’s.We held each other’s arms typically, simply for the reason that we felt like we needed to. No person was ever allowed to be unnoticed. Every body used to be priceless – that was the guideline – simply considering she existed. So in there, we had been brave adequate to take off our capes. All I ever wanted to know, I realized in the intellectual health center. (Laughter) I remember this sandy-haired girl, who was once so gorgeous, and he or she told the reality on her palms. I held her hand in the future whilst she was once crying, and that i saw that her palms were just sliced up like precut hams.In there, folks wore their scars on the outside, so that you knew where they stood, and they told the truth, so you knew why they stood there. So I graduated from excessive college, and that i went on to university, which was means crazier than the intellectual medical institution. (Laughter) In institution, I introduced on the capes of alcoholism and drug use. The sun rose everyday, and i began binging and purging, after which when the solar set, I drank myself stupid.The sunrise is in general persons’s sign to rise up, nevertheless it used to be my sign daily to return down – to come back down from the booze, and the boys, and the medications, and that i could no longer come down. That used to be to be kept away from in any respect fees, so I hated the dawn. I’d shut the blinds, and i might put the pillow over my head, even as my spinning mind would torture me concerning the folks who have been going out into their day, into the light, to make relationships, and pursue their dreams, and have a day. And that i had no day; I only had night time. This present day, I wish to believe of hope as that dawn. It comes out day-after-day to shine on each person equally. It comes out to shine on the sinners, and the saints, and the druggies, and the cheerleaders. It never withholds. It does not choose. When you’ve spent your entire lifestyles in the dark, and then at some point simply decide to come out, it’s going to be there, ready for you, just waiting to heat you.You already know, all these years, I suggestion of that sunrise as looking, and accusatory, and judgmental, nevertheless it wasn’t. It was once simply hope’s everyday invitation to me to return again to existence. I believe for those who nonetheless have a day, if you are nonetheless alive, you are nonetheless invited. I clearly graduated from institution – which makes me both grateful to and extremely suspicious of my Alma Mater – (Laughter) and i located myself type of in the true world, and variety of now not. On mom’s Day 2002, – i am not excellent at years, we’ll just say on mother’s Day – I had spun deeper and deeper. I wasn’t even Glennon anymore. I was simply bulimia. I was once just alcoholism. I was once just a pile of capes. But on mom’s Day, one mom’s Day, I determined myself on the bloodless bathroom floor, hungover, shaking, and conserving a constructive being pregnant experiment.As I sat there with my back actually in opposition to a wall, shaking, an figuring out washed over me. In that moment, on the toilet floor, I understood that even in my state, even lying on the ground, that anybody in the market had deemed me useful of an invitation to an extraordinarily, very essential event. So, that day on the bathroom ground, I determined to show up, just to show up, to climb out of my darkish, character, controllable world, and out into the big, fine, messy one. I did not be aware of learn how to be a sober person, or easy methods to be a mother, or the way to be a friend, so I simply promised myself that i would exhibit up and i would do the next right thing. "simply show up, Glennon, even supposing you are scared, just do the following proper thing, even when you are shaking." So I stood up. What they don’t tell you about getting sober, about peeling off your capes, is that it gets a hell of lots worse earlier than it gets better.Getting sober is like getting better from frostbite. It is all of those feelings that you’ve numbed for see you later, now they’re there, and they’re gift. At first, it simply feels kind of tingly and uncomfortable, however then, these emotions start to feel like daggers. The ache, the loss, the guilt, the shame – it’s all piled on prime of you with nowhere to run. However what I realized throughout that time is that sitting with the suffering and the joy of being a human being even as refusing to run for any exits is the one option to emerge as a real man or women. So, this present day, i’m not a superhero, and i am not a perfect human being, but i’m totally individual, and i’m so proud of that.I am, happily and frustratingly, nonetheless precisely the equal person as I used to be after I was once 20, and 16, and 8 years historic. I nonetheless suppose scared at all times, anxious all the time, oily all the time. I nonetheless get very excessive and very low in existence, daily, however I ultimately authorized the truth that sensitive is simply how I was made, that i do not ought to cover it, and i do not have got to fix it. I’m not damaged. I’ve absolutely began to surprise if maybe you are touchy, too. Probably you think exceptional ache and deep pleasure, but you just don’t consider trustworthy speakme about it in the real world.So now, as an alternative of seeking to make myself tougher, I write and that i serve people to support create an international the place touchy people don’t want superhero capes, the place we can all simply come out into the big, vivid, messy world, and inform the reality, and forgive every other for being human, and admit together that yes, lifestyles is particularly rough, but in addition insist that collectively we can do rough matters. You realize, probably it’s adequate to assert, "surely, today i’m not great." probably it can be ok to recall that we’re human beings, and to stop doing lengthy enough to consider, and to love, and to share, and to listen. This weekend was mom’s Day, which marked the eleven-year anniversary of the day I determined to exhibit up, and that i spent the day on the seaside with my three children, and my two puppies, and my one husband (Laughter) my long-suffering husband. Which you could handiest think. Lifestyles is wonderful and existence is brutal. Life is brutaful always and day-to-day. Just one thing has made the change for me, and that’s this: I used to numb my emotions and conceal, and now I think my emotions and that i share.That’s the only change in my lifestyles this present day. I am not terrified of my feelings anymore. I know they are able to come, and they will not kill me, and they may be able to take over for just a little at the same time, if they have got to, however at the finish of the day, what they are is really just guides. They are just publications to tell me what is the subsequent proper factor for me to do. Loneliness, it leads us to connection with other humans, and jealousy, it guides us to what we’re purported to do subsequent, and suffering publications us to aid other humans, and being overwhelmed, it guides us to ask for aid. So I’ve discovered that if I honor my feelings as my possess private prophets, and alternatively of walking I simply be still, that there are prizes to be gained. Those prizes are peace, and dignity, and friendship.So I got an e-mail last week, and it’s now taped to my computer at house. It just said, "expensive Glennon, it’s braver to be Clark Kent than it’s to be Superman. Raise on, warrior." (Laughter) So today, i would say to you that we are not looking for any further superheroes. We simply need awkward, oily, sincere human beings out in the shiny, large, messy world. And i’ll see you there.(Applause) .

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batterymonster2021 · 5 years ago

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Lessons from the Mental Hospital | Glennon Doyle Melton | TEDxTraverseCity

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Lessons from the Mental Hospital | Glennon Doyle Melton | TEDxTraverseCity

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