#prompt alt 2

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— flufftober (day 13) —

Warnings: fluff, pregnancy, talks of pregnancy complications

Prompt: Hot Chocolate (alt2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

@flufftober || flufftober masterlist

Can be read with Day One

Halloween had barely begun and you had already picked out the perfect tree and bought new sets of ornaments to match your new house decoration for the Holidays. Candles burned and flickered on the walls as you went around the tree, humming to yourself.

It was not time to start decorating. It was too early for you to even put up red stockings, but you did anyway. You were way too early, but you needed something to do. The bedrest that had been prescribed to you was annoying and it let Bucky nag you to sit down without having to make up an excuse.

Being fairly enough energetic at seven months pregnant, you were more likely than not to be found roaming the halls of your home and finding everything and anything to keep yourself preoccupied.

Before it was an issue, it had given Bucky time to hole up in his study to finish up his brief meetings with Sam about the Young Avengers Initiative without having to entertain your boredness. He would come out later to the light citrus smell of cleaning spray and the newly released scent of baked goods.

Though, now, he was scared to death about seeing you up on your feet after a long discussion with Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner about your pregnancy. With the super-soldier serum baby growing in your average human body, it was hard for them to dictate the next steps. They had instantly told you to take lots of rest and eating more than usual would be considered normal.

That was all they knew.

It was all Bucky needed to hear to start becoming more and more protective as the bump grew with the baby. You started glowing with your pregnancy and he found another reason to love you everyday.

He could, however, do without you standing on a ladder to try and secure the star on the tip of the tree. Much less when he had gone out for groceries and a quick drink with Sam on the outskirts of the little town you two had picked to settle in. He froze for just a moment when you went on your goddamn tiptoes to reach further and higher. His heart was pounding and he forced his feet to move.

“Sweets, Y/N, sweetheart.” He exhaled deeply when your heels were back on the step. His hands grasped the metal bars of the short ladder and he looked up at you, willing his heart to slow down from its thundering state. “You can’t—sweets, I love you, I really do. But, couldn’t you wait?”

You grinned down at him, sickeningly sweetly which meant he had fucked up somehow.

“I would have waited,” you started, lowering yourself gently to sit on the step with your feet grazing his thigh now. “But you kept saying you were busy.”

He racked his brain and remembered the few times you had asked him to put up the Christmas tree and all the other decoration that you ordered while seated on his lap in his study.

“In a few days, sweets.”

“Soon.”

“Once Halloween is over.”

“I’ll do it soon, sweets.”

He had good reasons, but those promises had led up to you on a ladder while he was gone out. If you had missed a step, if the ladder had slipped, if you had been climbing down and something happened, he wouldn’t have known. He would have found you on the ground and never would he have forgiven himself for any of it.

“Sweets, get down,” Bucky all but ordered. His voice, as harsh as it was, was somehow just as gentle. Soft and low toned. He had never raised his voice at you and never would. He was better than that. But, god, his biggest nightmare could have been reality today.

Your face lost its smile and your hands went to your bump. Something in his face must have told you exactly what he was thinking about because then you were holding his shoulders and squeezing them lightly as you climbed down slowly and carefully. Once your feet were on the ground, solid hardwood ground, you cupped his face.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, scratching his cheekbone lightly. “We’re okay, James.” The use of his first name released a sigh from his lips. It was your way of saying that what you said was true and real. His shoulders sagged and his eyes fluttered close with your warmth. He felt your forehead press onto his and a light kiss was dropped on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your lips.

You smiled.

“Me, too. I should have waited. I know you would have done it. I’m sorry for the scare.”

His eyes opened and watched another grin appear on your face.

“So, want some hot chocolate?”

He laughed and nodded. For now, he would let you get away with it. Later, when you were taking another nap or a long bath, he would finish the tree and put up the rest of the decorations.

[veinsfullofstars]

“Any more stupid questions?”

Bonus live reactions to being saved from a Dark Matter ambush:

Started 07/13/24, finished 07/27/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. | Kintsugi AU Masterpost

[crossnamara]

Alt prompt 1 - Murder

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Comfort Zone

@summer-of-bad-batch week 2 alt prompt 'Comfort Zone'

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Shep Hazard Set after the finale when everyone is living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~1735 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Hunter is restless, and Shep invites him to take a walk.

Even on rest days Shep liked to be up early, circulating among the island community, greeting the early risers. He made it his personal mission to ensure that every member of Pabu’s population was well-cared for, always ready to lend an ear or a hand, whatever the situation called for.

This morning this usually quiet stretch of Lower Pabu echoed with the noise of some singular industry, banging and sawing acting as his beacon as he wound his way around the curving paths until he found the source of the noise.

His melodious voice floated to the man on the roof, lilting in query.

“Hunter? What are you doing up there?”

There was no pause to the sounds of Hunter’s work, and he replied without venturing to where he could see the other man. “Fixing the roof.”

“Yes, but… it’s a day of rest, Hunter.”

“Roof’s not going to fix itself.”

“It will be there tomorrow.”

“What if it rains tonight?”

Shep paused and glanced out at the endless sky that stretched from the isle, cloudless blue in all directions reaching down to meet the sea in a horizon which blurred to infinity.

“Rain,” he repeated, his voice faint with humour.

The sounds of work continued from above.

Shep glanced about for a ladder, thinking to climb and try to make Hunter speak with him face to face. He didn’t see one. Unsurprising that the clone commando would forgo such things – Shep had seem him swarm up cliff-faces in pursuit of flowers which caught Omega’s eye, and he doubted their low buildings posed as much of a challenge as that.

He settled for repeating the clone’s name again. “Hunter.”

The hammering ceased. Hunter’s face appeared at the edge of the roof, guilty apology writ large across his features.

“Sorry. Am I disturbing people? I can come back to this later. I’ll find something else to do in the meantime…”

Shep couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up at Hunter’s stumbling explanation, words tripping over themselves as he looked anywhere except at Shep.

“Come walk with me, Hunter,” he said, his smile infusing the invitation with warmth.

“Maybe later, Shep,” said Hunter, swinging down from the roof and immediately stalking past him, still avoiding his gaze. “I noticed one of the cliff fences was down too, could be a danger if the kids roam near it. I’ll go fix that, it’s out of the way-”

“Hunter.”

The gentle force to his name stopped Hunter and he wheeled round slowly, head down but eyes glancing up from beneath the shadow of his bandana.

“This… isn’t something I have a choice about, is it.”

Shep smiled and shook his head. “Glad you caught on.”

Hunter groaned, but a faint grin lit his tired face. “I’m used to using that voice on the others.” He shook his head ruefully. “Never thought I’d have someone use it on me.”

Gesturing with his head, Shep turned and started walking and let Hunter fall into step beside him. He picked a path which wound away from the inhabited areas of the island, one he knew would eventually turn from paving to dirt as they reached the wilder spaces beyond the sprawl of Lower Pabu’s housing.

The silence between them was companionable, although it was easy to sense Hunter’s reticence in his stooped shoulders and the hands dug into his pockets. His eyes shifted restlessly over everything before them, mouth part-open to sample the scent of the air, and Shep could almost feel the busy thoughts whirring away behind his tattooed visage.

Eventually he opened with a question which was really a soft command.

“Tell me what’s bothering you, Hunter.”

The clone almost startled, jerking in surprise at his voice after the quiet of their walk. Hunter glanced up at him quickly, then let his gaze go long over the horizon, slowing to a halt as he dug his boots into the ground, nudging a rock with his toe.

“Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.”

“You’re not happy,” pressed Shep gently.

Hunter’s defensive snort was almost too quick. “Of course I am. What’s not to be happy about? We’re finally free of the Empire. Omega is doing great. We… we have the lives I always wanted for us.” His words slowed and trailed off, before his gaze dropped from the seascape to the ground. “What’s there to be unhappy about?”

“You’re restless, then.”

At that, Hunter gave a small nod. His voice was gravel, the words reluctantly dragged from him as he agreed, “I guess you could say that.”

Shep looked about and found a broad boulder to settle his weight against, leaning comfortably back against the rock. There was plenty of space for Hunter to join him if he wished, but he didn’t press the invitation onto the man.

For a moment he sat, surveying the tense line of Hunter’s shoulders, before he spoke his next words carefully.

“It can be hard to make the adjustment. Hard to step out of your comfort zone, even if… especially if your comfort zone was hardship.” He watched carefully for Hunter’s reaction, but the clone kept his back to him. “When it’s all you’ve known for so long, the familiarity of danger can sometimes seem like a friend. It’s hard to know what to do with yourself when you don’t need to be alert all the time.” He paused, left time for the thought to sink in before adding, “Hard to know what to do with yourself when others don’t need you all the time.”

Hunter’s shoulders shifted with a soft snort. “You could be talking about yourself there, Shep.”

“I could be,” he acknowledged. “Perhaps that’s why I recognise it in you too.”

Now Hunter turned to him, and there was gentle devastation written across his features. His stern façade had fractured, and beneath it there was uncertainty, and loss.

“Who am I if I’m not their leader?” he asked, his gruff voice little more than a whisper. Now his storm-grey eyes met Shep’s at last, piercing, searching.

Shep pushed to his feet again, stepping towards Hunter and letting a huge, warm hand settle on his shoulder. He squeezed lightly, a reassurance.

“You’re their brother. Their friend. A father-figure to Omega.” A smile tugged at his lips as he added, “Don’t mistake me, she looks to all of you, but her bond with you is different to the rest. She needs you, in a different way now to perhaps how she did before, but no less important.” He let his grip tighten, pressing his words into Hunter. “I’d say more important.”

The line of Hunter’s shoulders was still tense under his hand. “Echo and Crosshair are out there fighting the Empire,” he said reluctantly. “I should be doing more.”

Letting his hand drop, Shep stepped past Hunter to gaze down at the town, the houses stretching down to the docks and the small boats bobbing there, less now than before the Empire attacked, but the small fleet recovering with each new craft they built.

“Do you begrudge Wrecker the life he leads now?”

“What?” He almost felt Hunter’s startled flinch. “Of course not.”

Shep smiled as he thought of the big clone, the first refugee to come to Pabu who rivalled him in stature. Wrecker had thrown himself wholeheartedly into island life, and not a day went by without him turning his hand to some new skill, eager to learn, ever-willing to lend his strength to the community. He could most often be found down at the docks, but a love of Pabu’s food had seen him turn into a surprisingly good chef as well, and he was beginning to return Shep’s gifts of food baskets for the clones with cooked platters of his own.

“Or the clone cadets? The three boys you rescued?”

“That’s different,” said Hunter sullenly. “It’s not the same.”

“Isn’t it?” said Shep mildly. He chuckled at the thought of the mischief the three boys wrought, seven and eight years old in teenagers’ bodies. They had tried fostering them with parents, but the three of them had been fending for themselves so long they were happier on their own. Instead, Shep had settled them in a central location, ensuring that they had islanders around them to help them adjust whilst giving them their own space.

“It’s not,” insisted Hunter stubbornly. “They’re just kids. They shouldn’t have to fight. I want them to have normal lives… just like I want for Omega.”

“Hmm.” Shep let the thoughtful noise hang in the air between them. “They are trained. Capable soldiers. Why do you feel you should compare yourself to your brothers in the Resistance, yet not expect them to join?”

He heard the intake of breath that was Hunter getting ready to argue, then the click of his teeth as he jaw clamped shut. He tried not to smile.

“It sounds like you hold yourself to different standards than you do the rest of them, Hunter,” he offered, and continued with Hunter’s grunt of acknowledgement. “It’s hard not to, when you’ve been their Sergeant so long. You’ve seen them through so much. But…”

Now he turned back to Hunter, expression gentle and unjudgmental as he said, “Couldn’t you extend yourself the same grace? To give yourself the chance to lead the life you want, not the life you feel you ought to?”

Hunter’s face was shadowed with doubt, and he worried at his lower lip as conflict showed in his eyes.

Eventually he looked up at Shep.

“How do you do it?” he asked softly. “How do you be who people expect you to be… and still find the right path for yourself?”

Shep smiled benignly, clapping a hand to Hunter’s upper arm reassuringly.

“With practice, Hunter. You’ll get the hang of it.” His smile broadened. “Perhaps you can start by taking a rest day… on the rest day.”

Hunter grinned sheepishly with a rough chuckle. “Alright, Shep. Consider me lectured.”

Shep turned back to the island vista, draping his arm over Hunter’s shoulders. The clone relaxed into an easier posture, one hand on his hip, some of the tension bleeding from his frame.

“It will take time,” Shep told him softly. “But you’ll learn. I’m sure of it.”

A soft smile tugged at the edge of Hunter’s lips, lifting some of the tiredness from his expression.

“I’m sure I will.”

[psychologeek]

Lab Rat (pt. 3)

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPTS: DAY 5: rope burns DAY 6: "you lied to me" ALT 2: "i love you"

“You lied to me,” Jazz sounds at the edge of tears.��

“What?” He can hear Danny argue. “I did not –”

“You lied to me,” she repeats. “I asked you if you'll be okay. I asked you if you are safe, and you said that you were. You said that I don't need to worry. That it's okay.”

“It was–” the kid sounds confused.

“Being tied to a bed and tortured is not okay!” she nearly screams. 

“That wasn't torture–”

“I saw the ropes, Danny.” Her voice is soft and fragile. “I saw how they tied you up to your bed. Just because you told them you were different.”

“They were scared, that's all. You know how they can be. It didn't hurt me.” He still tries to protect them.

“Danny, sweetheart,” she says quietly. “You still had rope burns when I found you. And even if you didn't – even if it was silk ribbons, and you could open it at any time– even if you never got a single scratch – it's still wrong. They shouldn't do it. They should have never hurt you, kiddo.”

There's a long quiet.

Jason takes the chance and takes a quick look across the corner. Dannys sitting there, on the couch, hugging his legs. Jazz is sitting by his side, not touching, a soft expression on her face.

“It wasn't a big deal,” the kid finally whispers. “It wasn't like- well, at the end. You saw. It wasn't that bad. They just did it because they cared, and they didn't want me hurt or–”

He's shaking now.

“I love you,” his sister says and hug him. “I love you, and I care about you, and I promise I'll do my best so one day, you'll learn that love isn't supposed to hurt.” 

“Sounds fake, but okay,” Danny says with a cheeck and hugs her back.

He still has healing wounds. His scars are massive and easily observed. His hands are shaking, and he's jumping at loud noises.

He's got a long way to go.

But Jason can see a faint smile on the kid's lips, and something inside is quiet.

(There's still hope.)

(Like it? I have more mini-fics in this au. And full size fics on ao3. please vote in my update poll! And the one for next week! Bc I try to work ahead LMAO)

[waywardsou2]

Summer of Bad Batch 2024

Alt prompt: Comfort Zone

A/N: I have no idea but this one was kinda difficult to do, I did it traditionally first and then digitally but man did I have to rework some stuff. I ended up kinda giving up on the clothes in the end but I'm mostly happy with it.

Omega loves her dads brothers, no matter where they go they will always be her home. They are her comfort zone

[zyrafowe-sny]

forgotten words

a sequence of four 100 word drabbles inspired by various @goldenheart-week prompts

Ambrosius woke to pain. It felt like every single bone in his body had been broken. (Perhaps they had.)

His memories were goop, but one slowly solidified.

He'd been in a fight.

With a monster.

Who was also Ballister's sidekick.

"Ballister…" His voice creaked with disuse, and he had no way of knowing if anyone was there to hear him.

Apparently, someone was. An unfamiliar voice answered. "Sir Goldenloin! You're awake! We'll send someone to fetch Lord Blackheart soon."

If Ballister was fetchable, he must have survived too.

Good.

Ambrosius was pretty sure he was supposed to tell him something.

***

Ambrosius' eyelids felt absurdly heavy. One of them simply did not want to lift, activating a burning itch whenever he tried.

So, he gave up. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure he'd like what he saw when if he managed to open them.

"Zee?"

He decided he must be dreaming. No one had called him that in years. But, just in case, he grunted.

Someone took his hand and began ever-so-gently tracing small circles on it. Perhaps this wasn't a hallucination.

"I was going to be very cross with you if you died."

"You're always cross with me, Ballister."

***

Doctors told him he was lucky to be alive, even with a bum leg and permanent scars.

(Ambrosius wasn't sure about that, but "alive" wasn't the outcome he would've bet on when he went to face Nimona.)

Nurses told him he wasn't actually supposed to be in constant pain, and showed him how to adjust the dosage of his IV meds.

(Ambrosius wasn't sure he deserved the relief.)

And every day, Ballister would show up to bully him through PT.

"Why do you keep coming back?" he finally asked. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Because I love you."

***

"I love you too." Ambrosius' memory still had more holes than Swiss cheese, but another one filled in. "I…I think I meant to tell you that. Before Nimona..."

Ballister cupped his cheek, and the metal felt cool on his skin. "I know. Or, at least, I guessed that's what you were going to say."

"You stopped me." Ambrosius tried to read Ballister's expression, but his vision was still unreliable.

"Because we both needed to focus on surviving."

"And now?"

"And now we have all the time in the world to figure out a future where we're not nemeses."

"ARCHnemeses."

cross-posted on AO3

[whump-for-comfort]

My second entry for the @whumperless-whump-event! This one is two prompts combined.

Day 2: Alt Prompt: Seizure + Day 3: Like a record, baby: Vertigo

Characters: Generic (whumpee + caretaker + medic)

Warnings: None, appart from a breif mention of nausea.

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

“Whumpee? Whumpee, can you hear me, love?”

Everything was sore and Whumpee groaned. Their head was pillowed on something soft, yet the rest of their body was lying on the hard floor. Caretaker’s capable hands were carding through their hair, and despite all the pain and the unknowns, they relaxed into the sensation.

“They're coming back,” Medic said somewhere above them, and Whumpee recognised their hand clutched around their wrist. “You ok, Whumpee?”

Whumpee groaned again and cracked their eyes open.

They was lying on the floor, curled on their side. All they could see from their vantage point was the bottom of the bookshelves, Medic's knees as they crouched in front of their prone body, and their own hand curled in front of them. Their other hand was resting in Medic's lap, Medic's fingers over Whumpee's pulse point.

They attempted to move their head to locate Caretaker, but shut their eyes against the barrel of vertigo that hit them. They moaned and curled further in on themself.

“Dizzy?” Medic asked. Whumpee grunted an affirmative; nodding was not an attractive idea.

At least Caretaker’s hand in their hair was a welcome distraction.

“First aid kits still under the sink, right?” Medic asked Caretaker, and Whumpee heard Caretaker's affirmative before Medic stood to retrieve it.

“Let’s get you sitting up, love,” Caretaker said softly. “Come on, you can lean against me. Up you come.”

With Caretaker's hands under their armpits, they helped Whumpee up into a reclined sitting position. Even with their eyes closed, the vertigo made itself known, it was as if they were on board a ship on rough waves.

They were pulled between Caretaker’s legs, their head against Caretaker's chest, cradled in their arms. They relaxed against them and let them take the entirety of their weight.

“What happened?” Whumpee grumbled. They kept their eyelids pressed firmly together; opening their eyes would do no good for their stomach.

“You had another seizure,” Caretaker provided. They rubbed up and down the side of Whumpee’s arm in a comforting gesture and pressed a kiss into their hair. “You might have hit your head on the floor as you went down.”

Whumpee groaned again. “Hurts.”

“Your head?” Caretaker began to run gentle fingertips through Whumpee's hair, stopping only when Whumpee winced. “Ah. You’ve got a little bump.”

“And perhaps a concussion,” Medic added as they re-entered the room, presumably with the first aid kit, but Whumpee didn’t want to risk opening their eyes to find out.

The air stirred as Medic crouched down in front of Whumpee. They heard a zipper being pulled and rummaging in the kit, then a click and a burst of light that made the insides of Whumpee’s eyelids glow red. “You’re gonna have to open your eyes, Whumpee. I’m sorry, but I need to check your pupils.”

Whumpee cautiously opened their eyes as if preparing to squint into the sun.

The light burned, and it took all of Whumpee’s willpower to not cringe away from it. They forced themselves to look into Medic's face as they brought the light into their eyes and away again in brisk movements. Whumpee must have made a noise of discomfort, for Caretaker had begun to shush them softly.

“A mild concussion,” Medic reported finally, clicking the torch off again. “You should be alright, but I’d recommend bedrest for the rest of the day. No falling asleep, though. Caretaker, you’ll have to stay with them.”

“Of course,” Caretaker said readily, and Whumpee couldn’t help the affectionate smile that leaked out behind the pain.

With help from both Medic and Caretaker, Whumpee stood on two feet, though it felt like they were falling. They gasped, despite the two strong presences at his sides holding them up.

“Can you walk?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee shook their head, an action that had them pressing their lips together against the sudden wave of nausea it elicited.

“All right,” Caretaker said soothingly. Slowly, ever so slowly to avoid upsetting Whumpee's head any further, they lifted them into their arms and cradled them to their chest.

It wasn’t long before they were placed gently on the bed, and Whumpee let out a sigh of relief as they were enveloped by soft pillows and plush blankets.

Distantly, they registered Medic's farewell pat on the arm, and then Whumpee and Caretaker were alone.

They felt the mattress dip beside them, and they reached their hand out blindly. Caretaker tangled their fingers together.

“Here,” they felt the nudge of two pills against their lips, which they parted to let Caretaker place on their tongue. They swallowed them both dry; they had gotten quite good at that recently. “No going to sleep, remember?”

“I know,” Whumpee grumbled. They wished they could sleep off the remaining symptoms, but it was not to be. “You’ll stay with me though?”

They heard the smile in Caretaker’s voice. “Of course. For as long as you need.”

[anxiously-going]

Find Old Messages

"What the hell is this?"

Lenoard glanced up from his reading, heart dropping into his chest as he immediately recognized the paper in Jim's hand. He shrugged feinging nonchalance. "I dunno, Jim, still haven't developed those psychic abilities you think I have."

"Why the hell do you have a suicide note and why is it dated three months ago?"

Len sighed and turned off his PADD. "When i have a bad day...I write a note. And then I sit with it and I imagine you finding it, imagine it being passed around to everyone, and...how much it hurts everyone and the guilt is enough to keep me from doing something stupid. It takes the impulse away when I make myself sit with it."

Jim stared, trying to process Bones' words. "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" He asked softly, dropping onto the sofa next to Len.

"Because I'm used to it," Len shrugged. "I've been suicidal since I was a kid, usually it's just passive, and when it's not...I know if I just take the impulse out of it, I'll be fine. It doesn't really feel like anything worth bringing up because it's just old hat to me."

"Do you have a safety plan?"

"Jim-"

"No, because there's not a chance on hell you'd let me get away with something like that. Do you have a safety plan?"

"Yeah," Len admitted with a sigh. "Christine knows about it."

"Good. I'm not actually mad at you, but I'll admit finding this scared me. I just want to know you're not trying to deal with this on your own."

"I'm not."

"You know I love you, right?"

Len rolled his eyes. "I know, kid. I love you too."

Jim nodded, feelings of unease still creeping around his gut. "Good."

Len lightly shouldered Jim, trying to lighten the tense mood that bound them to the moment. "I'm gonna be fine, Jim." He'd just have to do a better job of getting rid of the notes in the future.

[zsbrainrot]

I always draw Kazuki as the big spoon so I decided to switch it up!

Happy Buddy Daddies Friday!

@flufftober Day 13/Alt Prompt #6: Reverse the Roles.

[witherfide]

CRINGETOBER DAY 2: SELF INSERT

i would like to be chased against my will please bat eyelashes

close up ^.^

reblogs r appreciated!!!!

[tapestryoftrauma]

HFFF Day 6 !!

pale bouquets | Ship: Holloweane | WC: 1292 | Prompt: Flower Shop AU (Alt) / Day: 6 | TWs: none !

“It’s been sometime since a beautiful woman has stopped her right in her tracks like this. She struggles to even get a word out in greeting.

Damn her silly gay brain.

//

Aka Butch!Duke meets the local Florist, and it just a little bit of a huge lesbian about it.

HFFF Day 6 - Flower Shop AU (Alt)”

@femslashfortnight

[crossnamara]

Alt promt 2 - Swap

[naturepointstheway]

Flufftober Day 6: Alt Prompt 2 - Rainy Day

A drabble series that examines ten tomcats' reactions to a particularly stormy and rainy day.

Skimbleshanks loves the sound of rain drumming on the train’s roof, the rivulets of water drops splaying and fanning over the window panes, and the squeak of wet soles on the wooden floors of the cabins. Whiskey spreads warmth down his throat, melting into his bone marrow, a vest hook is buttoned, and he fluffs his cheek fur, so he might be cosy. He wends his way around passengers’ legs, steals a moment’s nap in someone’s blanket, and watches as lightning flashes outside, followed by a gallop of thunder hot on its heels. 

He is calm, nothing will go wrong.

*

Gus huddles deep in his favourite blankets, Jellylorum’s paws stroking his hair, singing a lullaby really meant for kittens, but he doesn’t mind. His paws shake with terror as lightning flashes outside the window, the wind howling and smacking rain mercilessly against the house. His fur stands on end, and he cannot be sure if it is from the charge of electricity from the storm or simply his fear. Perhaps it is both. He scratches at his coat, hard and fast, praying for the storm to end soon so he can sleep. 

He was no fearless and infamous pirate tonight. 

*

Munkustrap paces, back and forth, back and forth, he mutters under his breath, he doesn’t like storms that trap him inside. He has to get out, he has to check everyone is okay, that the kittens aren’t too scared, but even Tugger tells him it’s stupid to go out in that storm. It howls and laughs at seeing how trapped he is, stuck inside with all these fears and worries and anxieties and--

He needs, needs to know all the kittens are okay. He wants to hug them, assure that the storm will pass. 

And he cannot, and he cannot.

*

Tugger loves his brother dearly, and he knows that if he looked away for a second, Munkustrap would sneak away into that horrific weather. He loves a good storm, one that has been riled up by summer’s heat, but he doesn’t love the thought of Munkustrap risking his life out in all that lightning. He throws puns at Munkustrap, he sings rowdy songs to rile him up, and he manages somehow to rope Mistoffelees into all this nonsense. He is delighted when Mistoffelees plays along, also restless from being cooped up. 

He loves his life right now, storm be damned.

*

Mistoffelees is having the time of his life, purring and gesturing out at the windows whenever lightning flashes, reflecting for a split second in his big eyes. His ears perk tall, counting down the seconds to the inevitable thunderclaps that follow. His purrs rumble, his laughter delights Tugger, he wants to never blink so he doesn’t miss any lightning strikes outside. He too is sorely tempted to rush outside, but he knows Tugger and Munkustrap would stop him, tell him not to be so foolish. 

But oh! To just run outside and greet the storm like an old, beloved friend!

*

Alonzo slinks over a stair in the back of the house, tail swishing back and forth, eyes closed, looking for all the world like he is wholly unperturbed by the storm. He mumbles and twitches, though, if a rumble is a little too close, or lightning a little too bright outside. But he refuses to let the storm see his fear, a front of great bravado greets it instead. He doesn’t sit near the nasty draft under the door either, for his fur must be kept pristine and not windblown. 

Unfazed, unbothered, unperturbed, only if someone didn’t look too close. 

*

Plato is calm as ever, eyes closed in a very light doze, sinking into Victoria’s warm embrace, the way she has wrapped her arms around him from behind. He doesn’t mind the storm, he finds it rather romantic, actually, or was that because he was with Victoria? Nevertheless, there is a symphony to be heard in the rainfall on the roof, the lone call of some brave bird outside, the rain swishing against the windows at the wind’s beck and call, and the purrs of Victoria against his back. 

He doesn’t mind storms, he dreams of them all the time.

*

Coricopat stares the lightning down, an uncanny precision in knowing beforehand where and when they would strike. A paw hangs in mid-air, swiping at every lightning strike flashing outside, and his face doesn’t change expression at all, though inside he is practically dancing with delight. His heart soars at the sound of thunder, goosebumps thrill along his arms when it rolls over the house. He wishes he could harness that lightning somehow, batten it down so he can store it deep in his heart, but he has to content himself with listening and not touching. 

He wants to touch lightning. 

*

Mungojerrie slumps on Rumpleteazer, refusing to unwind his limbs from around her, happy to cling on to the other cat so long as the storm is howling and wailing and carrying on outside. He finds comfort in Rumpleteazer’s purring, the way she licks his paws to comfort him, and babbles on endlessly about their future mischievous pursuits. Perhaps they could even coax Mistoffelees into some of these imagined adventures when they embark on them once the weather calms down and the sun shines and dries up the earth once more. 

He finds comfort here, in Rumpleteazer’s chatter and constant presence. 

*

And somewhere, Old Deuteronomy takes his repose, unbothered by raging wind and rain, content to listen to the weather’s vents. After all, even the earth must sometimes rage and cry and someone has to be there to listen to her. He is a friend, he believes, to the earth as much as to all the felines under his care. He listens, silent, and purrs consolations and comfort. He stretches out a paw toward the window, as though to offer it to the miserable weather outside, so it might hold his paw as it weeps. 

He looks forward to the sun. 

[the-stars-in-between]

DAY 2 : Again.

Luffy relives the worst day of his life, over and over again.

I wasn't inspired by today's prompts so I chose one of the alternatives: Time Loop. Since I didn't have time to write everything, I'll post loop by loop as I go along, instead of all at once. This story is quite hard to read (and write), so pay attention to the warnings and take care of yourself above all <3 Trigger Warnings: - Graphic Description of Violence - Blood and Injuries - Burns - Major Character Death Fandom : One Piece (Anime & Manga) Character(s) : Monkey D. Luffy Relationship(s) : Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace Words Count : 1,548 No. 2: ALTERNATIVE  Time Loop

First Loop

Luffy struggled to retrieve Ace's Vivre Card that was slipping from his fingers. It was in front of him, just inches away, and yet unreachable. He didn't really know why, but he had to retrieve that Vivre Card. It was important, it was a part of Ace. He couldn't lose it. Nothing else mattered. The outside world faded into the background around him — the screams of agony, the smell of blood and smoke, the corpses he was stepping on to escape — leaving only the small burning piece of paper in his field of vision. 

(Ace had been burned by Akainu. His big brother, the one who always walked two steps ahead of him, unreachable and strong , the living embodiment of fire, had been burned . Sabo had died in the flames of an explosion. Luffy had forgotten it, but big brothers could burn too.)

Luffy's hand finally closed around Ace's Vivre Card and the panic that clouded his mind subdued. He had succeeded, Ace wouldn't leave him.

He had promised.

“You won't leave here alive!”

Luffy looked up and met Ace's desperate gaze. Why was Ace looking at him like that? He should be happy, Luffy had his Vivre Card back.

“Luffy!”

The flaming fist of Absolute Justice charged at him, invading his field of vision until all he could see was flames — stories whispered by a campfire, the burn of the Grey Terminal fire on his skin, Ace's arm around his shoulders in the middle of winter — and bloody red.

Oh.

Luffy wanted to move, should have moved, but he couldn't. The world was so fast when he was so slow, exhaustion slowing all his movements to the very core of his bones.

(If his crew was there, he could have rested for five minutes before going back into battle, but Luffy was alone .)

Suddenly, without Luffy understanding what was happening — he was so tired — Ace was in front of him, smiling sadly. Luffy's eyes widened in horror as he noticed the fist through Ace's body. The smell of burning flesh hit him in the face and Ace vomited blood, a retch shaking his entire body.

Akainu stepped back, removing his fist from Ace's body carelessly, Ace's guts falling to the ground, bloody and steaming. There was a hole in Ace's torso, where his lungs should have been. The skin around the wound was burned raw, sizzling with blisters and peeling away to the bone. And amidst the mess of ruined and damaged flesh, hidden behind his broken ribs, his brother's still beating heart. 

Thud, thud, thud.

Luffy focused on Ace's fading heartbeat, clinging to his brother's last breath of life. Ace wasn't dead yet! Luffy could still save him. Luffy remembered yelling at Akainu who was raising his fist once more to finish Ace off, but he didn't remember Jinbei and Ace's friends intervening.

Everything vanished when Ace fell to his knees in Luffy's arms. Luffy caught him, his hand red, red, red when he looked at it after touching Ace's back. Luffy placed his hand on the wound, trying to stop the endless bleeding. Ace slid into Luffy's arms, his head falling onto his shoulder, and Luffy tightened his grip around Ace, refusing to let him go.

"I'm sorry, Luffy," Ace struggled to say, choking. "I'm so sorry, I stopped you from saving me properly. Forgive me.”

Ace was breathing heavily, just talking, draining him of his meager strength. Blood was dripping down Luffy's shoulder in large drops.

"What are you talking about? Stop talking nonsense!"

Ace wasn't dying, Luffy could still feel his heart beating between his fingers. Ace wasn't dying. He couldn't die. He had promised. He couldn't die.

"Someone!" Luffy begged, screaming until his vocal cords broke, feeling the heat leave Ace's body. “Heal his wounds! Save Ace!”

Luffy didn't like the cold. Cold meant being alone in the night, cold meant an empty place in the treehouse. Cold meant Death.

"Luffy stop," Ace said weakly. "My time has come. He burned me from the inside out, I won't make it this time.”

And Ace was never weak. He was bold and brash and mean at times, a raging fire. Never weak, always strong. Ace was the reason Luffy survived Sabo's death. Because Ace was strong where Luffy wasn't, learning to be kind and caring for Luffy.

Ace was strong .

Luffy wasn't.

“No! You promised”! Luffy refused, understanding what his big brother meant. “You told me Ace, right? You said you wouldn't die!”

Because Ace was strong but he was also stupid. He forgot obvious things sometimes and Luffy had to remind him. Like the fact that Luffy loved him. But if Luffy reminded him of his promise, then maybe Ace wouldn't die.

“You promised,” Luffy stopped himself from sobbing. Ace didn't like whiners.

“You know, if it wasn't for Sabo, if I didn't have a little brother like you to watch over. I wouldn't have wanted to live.” Luffy's heart clenched painfully in his chest. “No one wanted me after all. So it's completely normal.”

Ace clung to Luffy like a lifeline, as if Luffy was the only thing keeping him alive. Luffy was terrified that he wouldn’t be enough to keep Ace alive for a little longer.

“Oh right, if you ever run into Dadan again, could you say goodbye for me?” Ace laughed softly, his laughter cut off by a coughing fit. “It’s strange, now that I’m about to die, I feel like I miss her.”

Ace’s breath was labored, his voice hoarse. And Luffy didn’t dare look — because if he did, he’d have to face his big brother’s dying face — but he was pretty sure Ace was crying, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“I only have one regret, and that’s not seeing your dream come true. But I know you, you’ll get there, that’s for sure.” Ace and Sabo had been among the first to hear his dream, among the first to believe in him. “You're my brother after all.”

Luffy had two brothers. One had been dead for over ten years, the other was dying in his arms. Who was going to believe in his dreams now?

And yet Luffy couldn't do anything. He was frozen, afraid that the slightest movement would make things worse. The only thing he could do was hold his brother in his arms as he died, hoping that Ace would feel all the love Luffy had for him.

Ace was loved. He had to know that, right ?

"As we promised each other back then, I have no regrets about the life I led."

This time, Luffy couldn't help but protest. This wasn't how it was going to end. It couldn't be.

(Ace's heartbeat was getting slower and slower, more and more rare.)

"No, you're lying!"

"No, it's true!" Ace insisted, his fingers digging painfully into Luffy's shoulder with a surprising strength for a dead man. “It seems that what I always wanted in the end wasn't fame or glory. But just the answer to my question. Why did I come into this world? "

Ace had always been haunted by his past, by the past of those who had come before him, that of his parents. But Luffy didn't live in the past, he didn't care who Ace's father was. What mattered was the present, what mattered was that Ace was Luffy 's brother.

Ace was Ace and that was all that mattered. Ace had always been enough.

"Luffy, I want you to listen to what I have to say and tell the others afterwards," Luffy knew at that moment that his brother's words would be his last. He wasn't ready for that. “Even though I've been a good-for-nothing my whole life, even though I carry the blood of a demon.”

The fighting raged around them and yet it had never been interrupted. Ace's family fought to give them one last moment, one last hug.

"Thank you for loving me!"

Crying, Ace formed a smile on his lips for the last time. Ace collapsed in Luffy's arms, his hand falling from Luffy's neck where Ace had clung to during his final moments, leaving a trail of blood along Luffy's cheek.

Ace fell to the ground, alive one moment, dead the next, and Luffy screamed out all his pain and sorrow, inaudible amidst the horrors of war. Ace was dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. 

Ace was dead.

Ace.

Was.

Dead.

Ace was dead.

Years of memories flashed through Luffy's mind in a split second - all ending with the same tragic phrase "thank you for loving me", all ending with Ace's death - shattering his psyche to the last piece.

They were always meant to end up here - Ace, dead and Luffy, helpless - there was nothing Luffy could have done to change things.

“ACE!!!”

In the end, when the darkness reached out to him, Luffy welcomed it willingly. Luffy fell into nothingness, hoping to never come out. Not if it meant living in a world alone.

Click. Again .

[keldrakey]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Merlin (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Additional Tags: Febuwhump 2024, "I love you", Post-Magic Reveal, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Arguments, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Misunderstandings, Angry Merlin (Merlin), Angry Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling Series: Part 133 of Merlin, Part 19 of Febuwhump 2024 Summary:

After Merlin's magic is revealed, Arthur has a hard time believing anything they had was real