#somebody come read me a bedtime story from a different room with the door open but no lights on!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunnyywritings · 3 years ago

Text

true love’s kiss

tenya iida x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

requested by @coleluuviida : So may I request a iida tenya x gn! reader? The plot I want is where reader likes reading a lot of books and comics, they will read romance, action, horror, etc. So then one day reader and the dekusquad are eating lunch together, reader was quick eating their lunch so that they can continue reading their book but then iida ask about what their reading and reader go on and on how, and why they like the story with passion iida was listen with joy even the dekusquad are listening in. After that reader let iida borrow their book the rest is up to your imagination!

[a/n: thank you so much for trusting me with your request sweetheart!! i’m sorry it took so long but here it is, i hope you enjoy! I kinda got carried away...it’s been a while since i’ve properly written so i apologize if it’s not very good :/ without further adieu, here’s some adorable iida content cause he’s the best and deserves the world - yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

It was never strange to see you with your nose buried in between the pages of a book. Your friends found it endearing.Some people, literally just Bakugou, found it a bit ridiculous.

Denki and Kirishima made a game out of it. They would bet on the genre you were reading purely based on your reactions alone. If your cheeks ever got flushed and your eyes wide, 10/10 it was probably a cheesy romance manga. If your brows were furrowed and your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, it was a mystery novel. A forlorn look in your eyes ment it was some type of magical book with Knights, Wizards, and Dragons (oh my!)

But somebody in particular, albeit enamored by your love of literature, was also concerned.

Iida was in your group of friends and so he had witnessed first hand your obsession with finishing a book. Sometimes you wouldn't eat during lunch because you were so enthralled and when he did get you to eat something, you raced to finish your food so you could grab your book once more and pick up where you left off. You weren't much of a talker and no one at the table really minded your lack of conversation and let you be.

However, this time around, it was different. Iida noticed the bags under your eyes and knew that you hadn't been sleeping. You had been engaging in class and you were keeping up with your studies but the second you guys were allowed a break or you all were let out for lunch, you picked up your book and resumed reading.

Even as you walked with them to the cafeteria, your eyes hadn't left the page. You had your book in one hand and your other was gripping the end of Shoto's blazer, leading you to where you needed to go.

"It must be a really good one this time." Kirishima muttered to Denki, both watching in amusement as you were being led around by a nonchalant Shoto.

So as you sat at the lunch table, Iida watched in concern. Even with your favorite food in front of you, you still hadn't put the book down. As much as he hated what he was about to do, he just couldn't do nothing.

"(Y/n), as much as I hate to disrupt your reading...I must know, is a book really more important than sleep? Or more important than eating a healthy meal?"

All conversation came to a screeching halt. No one had ever really disrupted your reading before...so no one knew what to expect when Iida spoke up. The seconds were tense as they ticked by and as you moved your hand, they all held their breath, but instead of bookmarking your page, your finger deftly slipped under the corner of the page and turned to the next one.

"Huh...they didn't even hear you." Ochako giggled.

Sighing, Iida reached over and placed his hand flat on the pages, successfully obstructing your view of the letter on the pages.

"(Y/n)..."

Normally, you'd be a slight bit annoyed that someone had interrupted you but it was Iida. Sweet, sweet Iida.

"Oh. Sorry." Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, "I must've not heard you. What's wrong?"

Iida sighs.

“I'm just concerned, is all. What's got you so interested?"

"You really want to know?" He noticed how your eyes twinkled with excitement.

"Yes, I really want to know."

And with that, you went off on a whole tangent.

Explaining the story from the very beginning. Giving character description with wild and elaborate hand gestures. Even going as far as adding sound effects to fight scenes. This was nothing new for Shoto or Midoriya. They had often asked about the stories you read and quite enjoyed hearing you re-tell them. Shoto never had anyone tell him bedtime stories but he assumes

this is what they would've been like.

Iida was stunned. Absolutely stunned. He's never seen you speak about something so passionately, other than the time he had asked you why you wanted to be a hero.

So as you went on and explained what you've been reading, he felt himself fall even more. He was intently listening.

You had been reading a rom-com style, action book about two knights going on a quest to slay a dragon to break an evil curse. There were wizards and mystical forest creatures. Once you finished, you had asked if he wanted to read it once you were done.

Now...this wasn't really Iida's cup of tea. Don't get him wrong, he loves sitting and enjoying a book but fantasy books

aren't really his style.

"So..? Would you want to read it? Ya' know, see for yourself?" The look in your eyes was absolutely adorable, he couldn't possibly say no.

"S-Sure, I'd love to borrow it."

He wasn't too worried though, you still had a few chapters to go and surely you'd forget about it.

Boy was he wrong.

As he was getting ready for bed, the knock on his door confused him. Upon opening the door, there you stood in your pajamas

with the book tightly clutched in your hands.

"Sorry I took so long but here you go. Let me know what you think." You had an excited smile playing on your lips.

"Oh...thank you." He reached out and took the book from your outstretched grasp.

He read through the first chapter before going to bed, slightly intrigued.

It took him about a month to read, maybe a little longer since he definitely took breaks and focused more on school than anything...but eventually, he finished.

You had been hanging out in the common room when Iida had walked in, book in hand. It took you a while to notice since you had been buried in another .

“Oh, hey Iida!” Ochako grinned.

You turned and took notice of what was in his possession and your smile grew.

“You finished! What’d you think?”

“Uhm well, it was quite...quite interesting-” He was fumbling with his words, something that’s a bit unusual for him.

“Oh...you didn’t like it?” your face fell and his heart dropped a little.

“No, no! What I mean is that-!”

“It’s okay, you can be honest. It’s not for everyone.”

“I did like it but there’s something that I didn’t quite understand. Why would they risk leaving the magma gem? From my understanding, it would’ve given them the abilities needed to slay the dragon.” The complete and utter confusion on his face was adorable.

“Come on, Ingenium!” You chuckled quietly. “If they had gotten the gem, they wouldn’t have been able to save their partner. Remember, sometimes the best strategy is to run and get help instead of fighting a fight that you can’t win.”

“But they didn’t even slay the dragon!”

“They didn’t because that wasn’t needed to break the curse. The only way to break the curse was with true love’s kiss.”

“That’s not very logical. How would that break a deadly curse?”

“Don’t underestimate the power of love, Iida. It’s quite strong.”

Upon hearing those words he looked up from the book and into your eyes...had they always been that mesmerizing? His heart hammered in his chest as he parted his lips to speak once more.

“W-would you show me?” This was a big leap of faith for him. He had confided in Midoriya a while ago when he realized his feelings for you, and ever the observant one, Midoriya had a feeling that you felt the same way. There had been multiple times where he had caught you gazing longingly at the class rep.

Now you...you were stunned. Your cheeks had flushed red and your mouth was agape. Taking your silence as a rejection, he swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head.

“I apologize, that was quite forward of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He placed the book down on the couch and got up. Once he turned away from you, you had realized that the words in your head never left your mouth so you reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Wait…” your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you and turned back around. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I’m just surprised that you feel the same way I do.”

There was a small silence that followed but your body seemed to move on its own. You held his face in your hands, the feeling of your thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones sent the butterflies into a frenzy.

“Can I still kiss you?” Your voice was hesitant, quiet, and it made him smile, gazing into your eyes with such a fondness that it made your stomach do flips.

“Yes...please.”

That was all you needed before leaning in, his eyes and yours fluttered shut as your lips met. Both of you were unsure but he trusted you and you trusted him. The feeling of his lips moving languidly with yours was absolutely euphoric. He tasted like mint and black tea, and his lips were soft. Gaining confidence, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer.

After finally pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Believe it’s strong enough now?”

“Hmm…” His chest vibrated as he hummed in feign thoughtfulness. “I may need more convincing.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gn!reader #tenya iida x reader #tenya iida x gn!reader #request

101 notes · View notes

kinsurou · 4 years ago

Text

Forgive me Lord, for I am sinning

Pairings: Dabi (Touya) x Reader

Word count: 5.4K

Warnings: Smut (18+), Incubus!Dabi, Swearing, Dirty talking, Alcohol, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, Hair pulling, Slight mentions of breeding, Dabi being a little shit, Slight comedy.

Part 2 of the Incubus!AU. This one's a bit different from the first part. Special thanks to @dragonhrte for beta reading this monstrosity for me, and my friends @hawks-senseis @shoutogepi @honeytama @gr0vndz3ro @wakaoujisenhime @sailor-manga for listening to my non-stop ramblings as I worked on this piece! ❤

If somebody had said that after visiting your stranded family, you would end up coming back home bonded to a demon after getting laid inside the same church that brought nightmares upon you for years. You would have laughed at them before asking them to hand over some of whatever it was they may have drank.

But now, as an all too familiar weight drapes over your body, emitting such heat, that it covers your body with a thin layer of sweat despite the intensity of the air conditioner. Followed by a pair of warm lips slowly kissing the back of your neck, as they descend all the way to your lower back. Lastly, the pair of hands squeezing their way in between the mattress and your front to play with the soft mounds in your chest.

It all makes you think twice about everything you once believed to be nothing but myths and bedtime stories a parent would tell their child so they would behave.

An eyebrow twitched in annoyance as those hands pinched your nipples teasingly, tracing a small pair of piercings adorning the erect nubs. But you made no effort to move from your position in bed, trying to get as much sleep as possible before the start of the day.

“...What do you think you’re doing?” But your tired, sleepy voice was simply ignored, and the owner of those hands leaned down to purr softly over your ear as they started biting the lobe softly.

“Well...I firmly believe there’s no better way to start the day than with some nice morning sex.” Sharp fangs nibbled gently over your neck, right over the spot where a burgundy mark branded the sensitive skin. ”C’mon little one, I’ll be quick.”

Taking a deep, tired breath, a hand reached out for a small spritzer on the bedside table. Without even bothering to open your eyes, you quickly proceeded to spray the creature looming above your previously sleeping self, who by the way, started hissing painfully by the moisture damping his face.

“What the fuck is that?!” This time, you actually rose half-way from bed to glare at the demon rubbing his smoking face as if his life depended on it. Teal eyes were dangerously lowered into a glare, but honestly? After spending nearly two months stuck with Dabi, he didn’t scare you one bit anymore.

The demon that took you under the eyes of God and the little shit in front of your bed are two completely different individuals by this point. Now, every single day was spent being followed around the apartment by a horny demon trying to either seduce you or feel you up in order to satiate his hunger. Of course, it always backfired on him.

“Holy water.” The spritzer was pointed at him yet again, and he flinched back slightly, glaring at the plastic bottle with nothing but disgust “When I said I was mad at you, It was serious! Why are you still here anyway? Didn’t you get your own place next door?”

“Not really, just used my hypnosis on the old lady to get in.” He shrugged “If it makes you feel any better, I gave her back the keys some time ago. Told her I found them laying around.” He followed with a sly grin, that somehow riled you up even further “By the way, she thinks I’m your boyfriend.”

He got spritzed again, Much to his chagrin.

………

“So, ‘Touya’...” At the mention of his “name”, Touya looked up from his spot on the couch, frowning slightly after what happened that morning. Those little tantrums of the devil’s spawn usually lasted a few hours before he was back to his casual, lazy, and annoying self. “How did you become trapped in the church in the first place?”

“Why? Want to send me back? Sorry doll, but there’s no way I’m going back.” He got up from his seat and slowly approached while you were busy having some food. Coming up from behind, his face came from one side to give an alluring kiss to your jaw. “Especially now, that I have such a nice, little vessel all for myself.”

Even though you kept ignoring his approaches, those small shivers that went through your body with his every touch, were more than enough to nourish him for a while. But it’d be a lie if he said he wasn’t expecting a full meal like the one from that night.

“And what’s with this ‘vessel’ shit? Why me? There were plenty of girls back home, so why did you pick someone like….me of all people?” You jerked away from him, much to the demon’s disappointment, and picked up the empty dish, getting up from the chair to let it sink into the soapy water from the sink before turning to look at him with a frown.

“It’s just like I said before.” He twirled a lock of your hair between his fingers. “There’s something different about you. Besides, all of them are just like those instant meals you like, full of artificial shit. Like that cousin of yours, what’s their name again…? Meh, doesn’t matter, you know who I’m talking about, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed knowingly, fully aware of who he was talking about. The family’s golden child. The one who’s never disappointed the family and is their little star. But behind closed doors? They were probably worse than you.

“But you’re different, want to know why?” He got so close, that you could feel the heat of his body through his clothes. His face was so close as well, and it was strange looking at him without all those stitches and scars. Now that you think about it, it’s been a while since he stopped using this “Glamour”.

“Because you’re not someone who’s afraid of speaking your mind, so what if you’re not their golden child? You’ve always stayed true to yourself.” A hand made its way inside your shirt, claws roaming seductively all over your back. You couldn’t help closing your eyes and gasp quietly as ‘Touya’s hand kept grazing your body with that burning, lust-filled touch.

But as soon as his lips grazed your own, the loud shrill of your phone caught the both of you off guard and nearly caused you to bump ‘Touya’ in the face.

Flushed face turned away from the demon, you turned all your attention to the device. The caller’s ID made you smile in excitement once you saw the name of your best friend, there was only one reason she would call you this early during the weekend.

“Hey, What’s up!” Her cheerful voice made you walk away from the sink, leaving a frowning demon behind. Touya only glared at the device as he saw you talking happily with the girl on the other side of the line. He caught the word “party”, and couldn’t help but smirk smugly once he realized just what that meant. He was really going to enjoy this.

“Alright, I’ll go get ready, see you there!” Ending the call with a squeal, you ran into your room to look for a proper outfit and do your makeup. He just followed behind silently and leaned against the open door, watching you get undressed with a hungry glint in his eye and a devilish smirk.

“Ugh...Which one should I wear?” You mumbled to yourself, looking at the two tops in the bed with a pensive look. Black or Blue top?

“The blue one looks better.” The demon’s voice surprised you for a bit before a loud shriek was heard as he got the other top thrown at his laughing face, but you had to admit he had good taste. The top he suggested had been sitting at the bottom of the closet for a long time anyway, so it was the perfect time to use it!

Grabbing a pair of black jeans, you quickly got dressed and began putting on makeup, just enough to make your eyes stand out with the lights from the club, and a beautiful shade of red that complimented your skin just perfectly. Lastly, a pair of boots that fit the outfit just perfectly. From his place, Touya gripped the fabric thrown at his face strong enough to slightly tear through it with his black claws. Pupils dilated at the sight of those boots adorning those beautiful legs of yours.

Checking the hour, you still had some time before meeting up with your friends. Snatching a small handbag nearby, you made sure everything was in place. Money? check. Keys? check….A condom, just in case? Check.

“I’ll be back later. If I find any of the neighbors at the door, I’m exorcising you myself!” You looked at Dabi with an annoyed squint, remembering the last time he got in trouble for scaring one of the nosy neighbors from the other building, claiming they had it coming for trying to peek through your window.

He said nothing as he saw you rushing out, a wicked grin appeared on his face as he thought of the surprise you might get tonight. It was going to be so much fun.

Two hours later, you were having the time of your life with the others. Taking shots, dancing to the loud music, and sharing looks with one of the hottest strangers you’ve ever met in your life while sitting at one of the barstools. Too intoxicated by the high from the party to notice the burning sensation around the skin of your neck.

“Sooooo, why haven’t you texted these past weeks?” Your friend sat down at your left, resting for a bit from dancing her heart out with this other girl that kept making eyes at her, much to her flustering. “She’s totally checking you out! Atta girl” She couldn’t stop giggling like a teenager at your remarks.

“I’ve been busy, lots of stuff that needs to be taken care of.” Like how to get rid of the demonic hobo that keeps stealing the instant ramen. But your friend only gave you a look while downing another shot of some liquid courage.

“The last time you said that we had to take all of the stuff you dropped at your ex’s home after you broke up with them. You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” She gave you a knowing grin. This girl knows you better than your own family, but what were you supposed to tell her?

Yeah! I went to visit my family and ended up fucking a demon at the church, who just happened to move in with me and won’t stop trying to get laid!

At this rate, you’d probably end up locked up if someone could hear your thoughts.

Downing another shot, she stood up from her seat and made her way back to the dancefloor and into the arms of her admirer. Thinking about the situation back home left you thinking about Dabi, and that day back at the church. He may try to get into your pants nearly every single day, and yet, he usually stopped his approaches after a while.

Despite all the stress he caused, sometimes he'd go out of his way to help out, even though most of the time he kept messing with your stuff...Maybe...he wasn’t so bad after all…

“Gah! What am I thinking?” Shaking the thoughts out of your head, the drink in front of you was quickly downed.

“Something troubling that pretty face?” Another voice came from your right side before you had the chance to order another drink. Looking back quickly made your face get warm. The same guy that kept looking at you was standing right there. Just having him this close made something stir inside, as well as a burning sensation at your neck that was brushed off in favor of admiring this beautiful stranger.

“You can say that again, haha….” He sat down beside you, before ordering two beers and handing one over to you.

“Well, hearing a pretty one out is my specialty. Cheers for our troubled lives, am I right?” He raised the bottle before taking a big gulp of the cold, bitter liquid and you followed after him, the night passed by with some small talk and laughter as your face began getting warmer because of the alcohol.

And by the time the clock struck past 1 am, you were already close to this stranger at the far corner of the club.

….Or at least you tried to.

Another two hours passed by, and the sound of the door being slammed loudly caught Touya’s attention as he read one of your favorite books at the same spot from that afternoon.

“You….!” A furious growl came out of your throat. He didn’t bother looking up, already feeling the heated glare at the back of his head before hearing your marching to the bedroom, and he just grinned in realization once he caught a whiff of your scent.

Dropping the book carelessly behind him, Touya walked nonchalantly inside the bedroom, spotting you taking off all the make-up, half-ruined by your sweat.

“Something wrong, little one?” You turned to glare at him furiously, before throwing the cotton pat at him, which was quickly dodged. But he couldn’t dodge when you pulled him by the collar and began shaking him in anger.

“What did you do to me?!” He felt the frustration coming out of your body, and he also saw it on those fiery eyes of yours “I was this close, THIS CLOSE to getting laid with one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met in my life!” Your faces nearly touched each other “But right as we were about to do it, not only does this fucking mark starts burning like crazy! I couldn’t feel anything as he touched me!”

You smacked his chest rapidly, trying to let out all that pent-up anger inside, if only this bastard could actually react to your punches, it would actually be satisfying to hit him, but he wouldn’t even flinch.

Before a hand could land on his face, he quickly caught it mid-air, pulling you closer by the waist with something dark in his eyes. Bright, glowing eyes looked down at you.

“That’s just a side-effect of being a vessel. You can actually be pleased however you want, but there’s a catch.” The way he grinned gave away his answer even before he continued to speak. “As long as we’re bonded to each other, only a master can actually please their vessel.”

You pulled away from him, holding the wrist he held closer to your chest. Like he could tear off the limb in an instant if you weren’t careful enough.

“Besides, think about it. Why would you want to be pleased by a mere mortal, when you know just what exactly your master can offer? Or have you forgotten that night? When you could only scream how much you adored my cock?”

As much as you wanted to pour the contents of the spritzer on him...he had a point. Why in the world did you want someone else when someone that made you feel such wonderful things, was living under the same roof as yours?

It’s a trap.

Looking down at the floor, you bit harshly at your lip and headed towards the bathroom. After everything that happened tonight, you really needed to freshen up.

Getting undressed and stepping under the running water in the bathtub was easy. Allowing the cold stream to run down your body, trying desperately to ease the aching heat between your legs was the hard part. With each passing second, the increasing heat became insufferable, but no matter how chilled the water felt, the aching wouldn’t go down one bit.

Lust began clouding your thoughts the more time you spent under the cold bath, it was starting to become downright painful and as much as you tried pleasing yourself, it just wasn’t enough.

Walking out of the shower with a soft towel carefully wrapped around your body, you tried to distract yourself blow-drying the damp locks of hair. Trying to ignore the clenching between your thighs. Despite having just taken a shower, there was already slick running down your legs.

Whimpering, you walked out of the bathroom. Colliding with Touya’s hard chest as he stood in the way between the bathroom and the hallway. His whole body trembled as he let out a low, dangerous growl as soon as he caught a whiff of your scent. It would be a lie if you said that sound didn’t scare you…and at the same time, excited you.

Slowly tilting your head up to look at him, you were met with the same dark eyes from that time at the church. And before you realized what was happening, he had already pushed you against the wall, caging you in the spot with his arms.

“T-Touya…?”

But he just ignored you and crashed his lips upon yours with a bruising force. Sending an overwhelming shock from head to toe that nearly made your body give up and fall down on the floor. It was fierce, strong, passionate. You couldn’t even begin to fully describe it, but it was perfect.

“I could smell you from the other side of town.” He broke the kiss, allowing you to catch your breath before he kissed you again as eagerly as before. This time you were ready, and gladly began kissing him back with the same strength. Moaning into the kiss and holding onto him for dear life as his middle finger began prodding its way inside you. He swallowed your every noise happily, enjoying the way your body began trembling as his hand gave you a slight taste of sweet relief, that was so desperately needed.

Then he broke the kiss one more time, teal eyes engulfed in black as he admired your warm face and half-lidded eyes. “That sweet scent of your body, crying out to be pleased, begging to be satisfied until you become nothing but a limp mess underneath your master.”

He looked at your eyes closing with nothing but bliss, begging for more of his unholy touch. Nothing mattered to you anymore, all you wanted was for Touya to defile your whole being like he did the very first time.

“Ahhh….Please…” Lust glazed eyes fluttered open to look at him, and he almost wanted to take you right there, right now “Take my body however you want, Master…”

In an instant. He pulled his hand away from your core, yanking the towel away in the process. With little to no effort, Touya lifted your body with both hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, before taking your begging self to the bedroom. And this time, nothing would stop him from having you, and if he had to obliterate someone to ashes, in order to get what he wanted, he would.

He set you down in front of the bed and sat down on the edge, spreading his calves wide open, just enough for you to fit in at the same time that he leaned back on his lean arms. Face leaning against his knuckles as he looked at your trembling self.

“What are you waiting for, little one? Your master is waiting.”

Nothing but pure, concentrated arousal fueled your every thought. One knee bent down on the floor, the other one followed soon after. Finally, you sat in front of the demon, resting both hands over your knees, and waited for his next commands while staring at a growing bulge, easily noticeable under the layers of black denim.

“Time to worship your master’s cock, little one.”

Shaky hands made contact with the zipper of his jeans, slowly tugging it down. A small purr was heard from above you, and the room slowly began to get warmer as the demon’s pants slowly became looser around his waist.

“Look what you do to me. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.” He growled in contempt once his jeans were undone and his underwear was pulled down. That all too unique cock sprung out before your half-closed eyes, already dripping with precum. Having it this close to your eyes was way different from last time.

You could see every detail of the ridges at his sides, and this time, there was something else you definitely did not see, or feel the last time. He smirked widely, showing off those longs fangs of his when he saw you look up at him with curious eyes.

“This is new...When did you get a Jacob’s ladder?” Your hand grasped around the erect member, taking as much of it as it could. Thumb tracing a small vertical line at the underside of it, right in between the row of piercings decorating his shaft, all the way from the base until it stopped right below the tip. The slightest touch was almost enough to send the demon into a frenzy.

“Shortly after leaving the church. But what can I say? I wanted to surprise you.” He didn’t move one bit as he stared at you with those bright eyes. His hands cupped the side of your face, nails scratching gently at your cheek, and you couldn’t help leaning towards his warm touch. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself. Come on little one, get those pretty lips of yours to work.”

Too lost in the haze to even bother giving the demon a snarky remark, you happily obeyed his orders.

Slowly, your hand started touching his length with cautious, but firm strokes. The more you kept touching him, the heavier his breathing became.

“Your hand feels so good.” As much as you wanted to keep on teasing him, the trembling between your legs just kept getting stronger. Desire kept growing inside you like vines, snaring themselves painfully against your very soul.

Leaning forward, your lips gave the tip of his cock a tender, delicate kiss, and not only the feeling of those soft lips against him, but the dazed look in your eyes made Touya grip the blanket with force, growing nails digging into the material underneath, much to your chagrin. But right now, that didn’t really bother you. The only thing that mattered, was worshipping the throbbing cock in the palm of your hand.

Might as well give the demon what he wanted…

“Mmmm...Is my master enjoying this?” You kept moving your hand while peppering his tip with more kisses. Starting at the head before leaving a trail all the way down to the base. Not once did you break eye contact with him, and he couldn’t really complain about the view.

“Stop with the teasing already,” His hand pulled harder on your hair, leaning down until both of your faces were so close to each other, that you could practically feel his jagged breathing fanning against your warm face, and those hypnotizing blue orbs nearly digging a hole in your soul. “Now’s when the real worship begins. You know what to do, little one.”

You couldn’t hold back a gasp as he pulled harder on your soft locks, and he took advantage of that little noise, to push that pretty mouth down on his cock, hissing in delight at the warmth of your mouth.

“Shit…! your mouth feels so fucking good, it’s just as nice as your pussy!” Both of your hands came forward to rest on top of his thighs while moaning around the pulsing length. Small vibrations made him tilt his head back with closed eyes and a satisfied groan.

He tasted so good, that the pent-up frustration accumulated over the past week because of him, dissipated in an instant, and all you cared about was showing him...just how much you loved, your master’s cock.

Not waiting for a command, you began bobbing your head immediately, taking as much of him as possible, while continuing to stroke whatever bit couldn’t fit inside your mouth. Saliva and pre-cum mixed together into a lewd mixture, slowly dripping down your chin with each bob of your head.

The grip in your hair became firmer the more your tongue kept tracing circles on his tip. Touya could hear your little, satisfied hums the more you attempted to take him deeper with each thrust of your head against his hips. Thighs shaking desperately once the taste of his precum reached every corner of your tongue.

“As much as I love the way you take my cock with that filthy mouth,” With a single maneuver, he pulled your face away from him despite the little whines you gave, wishing to taste him just a bit more. “I can’t wait to leave bruises all over that pretty skin.”

Unwilling to wait any longer, Touya pulled you off the ground, and with a grin, he threw you face down on the bed. The mattress dipped down on your side by the weight of the demon climbing over your withering body.

“Get on your knees, right now.” The authority in his words was almost enough for you to melt on the spot. Obediently, you positioned yourself just as the demon said, and felt him grab on your hips with a force that would certainly leave a path of dark bruises.

When he began rubbing himself against your soaked folds, the friction from those firm ridges sent an exquisite sensation through your whole body, it made him laugh darkly once he heard those small, silent gasps as you waited eagerly to be filled.

A sharp pain shot through your backside when his hands smacked the skin of your ass, and although it was painful, it felt so good at the same time.

“What’s the matter, little one?” Another smack was given, making you yelp from excitement “You like this don’t you? What a filthy slut!”

When a third smack was given, tears ran down your face desperately. All you wanted was for this demon to ravish you at once. Not a pinch of pride or shame remained inside. You wanted him, and badly.

“Ahh...Please, master…” A hand snaked its way underneath, spreading those slick folds wide open as an offering to the demon. “Please, fuck me already. I can’t take it anymore!”

“Good!” One of his hands pushed lightly on the head of his cock, guiding it towards your warm, little hole and with a swift thrust, Touya buried himself all the way in. “Cause I’m gonna fuck you senseless, make you feel so damn good, that the thought of being with someone else will never cross your mind ever again, little one.”

Oh god, it was even better than last time. You could feel every single ridge, and those piercings brushing snuggly against your walls as he began with a fast pace immediately. His every thrust turned you into a mess underneath him.

Why did you even want someone else in the first place when you had this? If you had to settle for one dick to satisfy you for life, then maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your face buried against the bed with a lost smile and eyes rolling into the back of your head. In addition, your hands kept gripping the sheets with a death grip as Touya began hitting a spot over and over again that knocked your breath away. Watching you squirming underneath him was truly a sight to behold, nothing could come close to how beautiful you looked in the demon’s eyes.

“I can’t get enough of this delicious pussy, it feels amazing having you taking my cock like this…!” He held your body closer to his, hands kneading your chest in synch with his every push.

Your moans became louder with every single hump of his pelvis ramming against your ass, it brought you closer and closer over the edge. Until that all too familiar knot in your stomach.

“Master!...I’m coming! I’m coming!” Your whole body began trembling from the upcoming high, inner walls clasping around the throbbing girth humping your insides so wickedly good.

But then, Touya stopped moving so abruptly that it almost made you cry out in frustration. Was this his revenge for the spritzer?

But that’s wasn’t it. Instead, he flipped you over and pulled those beautiful legs to rest against his shoulders. Nibbling softly on the soft flesh of your inner thighs made goosebumps appear all over your body, and with a grin, he once again slammed his cock inside that warm, sloppy hole he adored. Picking up his brutal pace from before caused the headboard to slam loudly against the wall with each jab of his hips against yours.

“I want to see that look on your face again. That look in your eyes as I fill this delicious pussy with my cum!” You couldn’t stop gasping for air the more he kept shoving his length into the depths of your warmth, savoring the feeling with eyes closed tightly in nothing but pure enjoyment.

"Take it you little lamb! Take all of your master's seed until you become big and swollen with my offspring!"

He gave another rough thrust, hitting that same spot from before with an intensity that made you cling onto him for dear life, wrapping your arms around his neck. The heat from his body was searing hot, a little more and it could burn you alive at any moment. When you opened your eyes again, the sight you witnessed was hypnotizing.

His body was engulfed in blue flames, and despite being so close to him, that fire around him didn’t burn your skin in the slightest, but instead, it began burning away at his skin, and you realized it was actually destroying his disguise. When he lifted his head from your neck, you saw the same scarred face from that night at the church.

But his unnatural appearance didn’t bother you anymore, too lost in the high as Touya...No...As Dabi let out a deep snarl and with a powerful thrust, that tight knot in your stomach burst. Making you scream as an orgasm overtook your senses.

The look in your face sent Dabi into a frenzy, the sound of his length sloshing into your sloppy core resonated through the bedroom, and with a couple more thrusts, he slammed himself deep inside, clinging onto you as he filled your womb with his scalding seed.

You both stayed in place, breathing heavily while clinging to each other. Slowly, he pulled out and crawled back, the motion caused your legs to plop on the mattress and he watched in satisfaction as his seed kept leaking out of your drained body, before getting up from the bed and walking out of the room.

For a good ten minutes, you didn’t bother moving, wincing slightly at the sticky sensation all over your whole body, and when every single spasm kept making your body leak with Dabi’s cum, you felt even stickier. The bedsheet laid there completely torn to shreds, soaked and slightly charred.

“Come here.” Dabi walked back inside the room without his human disguise. Carefully he picked you up bridal style and took you back to the bathroom, where the bathtub was nicely filled. He helped you get in and lean back against the edge as the steaming hot water helped your worn-out body to relax. “There we go.”

“Why are you doing all this? I thought demons didn’t care about us mortals.” From the corner of your eyes, you spotted him picking a small towel from the shelves before he approached the tub again, he soaked it slightly in the tub, before using it to wipe your face.

“Well, I need to take good care of my vessel.” This time, he used the towel on your hair, the warmth felt nice on your sensitive scalp after having your hair pulled for a good time. “And honestly? I like this. You have guts standing up to a demon. Can’t say I don’t like the thrill though. So, as long as we’re bonded, just sit back and enjoy your daily life while I make sure to give you whatever you need.”

You hated to admit it, but it was a tempting offer. Either way, you’re definitely going to hell anyway....Maybe this deal wasn't so bad after all.

@hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime @fanfic-me-up @natsuosfairy @sailor-manga @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro @divinewhimsy

#bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha smut #dabi smut #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi is touya #touya smut

700 notes · View notes

let-the-dream-begin · 4 years ago

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 6: End of the Rope

Chapter 5

Read on AO3

Claire was supposed to be looking at charts on the computer in front of her, and she would, of course, right after she finished checking her phone for any messages from Mrs. Lickett.

“Beauchamp!”

Fuck.

“That’s the third time I’ve caught you on your phone. You trying to get fired on your first day?”

Her supervisor, Doctor Moore, was the most Nurse Ratched type Claire had ever seen in real life: tyrannical and unforgiving. The only difference was the grating nasality of her thick Long Island accent. Claire opened her mouth to defend herself, for the third time, but Ratched cut her off.

“Plenty of other doctors have kids at home, Doctor Beauchamp. Do you see any of the rest of them with their heads buried in their phones like teenagers?”

Claire could feel the tips of her ears growing hot with rage, but she swallowed it down and answered as levelly as possible: “No, Doctor Moore.”

“Get going. Your team is waiting for you.”

Claire exhaled heavily as soon as the tight-faced woman bustled out of the room, clenching her teeth to avoid outwardly groaning.

“The Ratched already on your nerves?”

Claire practically jumped out of her skin. She turned in the swiveling chair to see a kind-faced black man about her age, perhaps a bit older, smiling at her. He was sitting at a computer as well, craning his neck around to look at her. His eyes were dark, but soft.

“Did you read my bloody mind?” Claire stammered, still slightly alarmed.

He gave a short, barking laugh. “Seems I did. Everyone calls her that. Not to her face, mind you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Claire’s eyes widened at the thought of doing so.

“I’m Joe, Joe Abernathy.” He stood and crossed the room to shake her hand.

“Claire Beauchamp,” Claire returned, taking his hand.

He chuckled as he returned his hand to his side.

“What?” Claire said, face scrunching in suspicion.

“Just thinking about you asking if I read your bloody mind,” he said, flashing his teeth in a wide grin. “I heard you were English, but to hear it is another thing.”

Claire rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress her own smile as she turned back to the computer to complete her given task.

“Kids at home, huh?” His tone was sympathetic, having heard Doctor Moore’s reaming out of Claire.

“Just one,” Claire said. “I’m quite aware there are other parents here,” she continued hotly, though her anger was not directed at the man standing before her. “But I’d like to know how many of them are single parents of a daughter with special needs.”

Joe nodded in quiet understanding. “That must be tough, leaving her all day.”

Claire nodded, fighting the urge to check her phone again. “I’ve never left her alone with a babysitter this long. When I was in school I was still married, so she wasn’t ever alone for too long even though her father was a professor. After the move and the new schedules…I’m just worried.” All the while, Claire kept her eyes on the screen, scanning over charts and making mental notes. “The woman’s a marvel; I wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t. I just can’t help it. She’s nonverbal, my daughter. Autism.”

“Ah.” Joe nodded. “Gotcha.”

“So I just keep waiting for a call that she’s having a meltdown and that even the all-knowing, licensed professional can’t calm her down because she can’t tell her what’s wrong.” Claire shook her head, sighing. “It’s silly, I know.”

“Nah, not at all.” Joe shrugged, keeping his tone casual, but his eyes still shone with sympathy.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload my whole life story on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get it. I’ve never personally known anyone with autism, but you see it come in and out of the hospital often enough. It’s scary as hell when there’s something wrong and they can’t tell you, even the verbal ones sometimes.”

“Right.”

“I didn’t mean to make you worry more,” he said quickly. “I’m sure everything is just fine. All I’m saying is I get why you’re worried. And Ratched sure as hell doesn’t. I’d like to tell her to kiss my ass.”

Claire chuckled through her nose, taking note of one more thing on the computer before turning to smile up at him.

“Thanks, Doctor Abernathy.”

“Please, none of that in private.” He waved her off. “Just Joe when there are no patients.”

“Alright, then.” Claire logged off the computer and gathered her things. “Thanks, Joe.”

“No problem. Good luck out there, Lady Jane.”

She paused in the doorway. “What was that?”

He grinned. “One of the other residents called you that. Said your accent sounds like you just had tea with the queen.” He held up his hands, pantomiming holding a teacup and saucer, sticking his pinky out.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” Claire laughed, rolling her eyes as she wrenched the door open.

“Toodle-pip, my lady!” She heard him call behind her.

Christ, was she doomed to have nicknames thrown at her reminding her of her Englishness for all eternity?

Her heart warmed at the thought of that soft Scottish burr saying Sassenach, and more laughter bubbled in her chest at the thought of her newest title.

She supposed she didn’t mind.

——

Claire was dead on her feet by the time eight o’clock rolled around. She briefly glanced back at the hospital in her rear-view mirror as she pulled away, and despite how her head and feet throbbed, she was thrilled at the prospect of every day being like this one.

When she’d done her research on specialities back in the days before med school, she’d read of the unpredictability of Emergency Medicine, of never knowing what kinds of emergencies would burst through the doors at any given moment. The prospect had thrilled her then, and experiencing it first-hand now was even more thrilling. Today alone, she’d saved a man’s finger after a cooking knife incident, put a shoulder back in place, stopped a head wound from bleeding long enough to see the patient into a successful surgery, and saved a pregnant woman and the baby after trauma-induced labor from a car accident.

It was quite a heady feeling.

Despite the thrill, however, there was nothing Claire craved more than the sight of her little girl’s face, the sound of her happy humming to see that Mummy was home.

The whole day had gone by without a hitch, unless Mrs. Lickett was hiding something from her. The only updates she’d gotten were positive ones, prompted by Claire’s frantic “is everything ok??” texts.

Claire had washed up and changed out of her scrubs at the hospital so that she could spend whatever little time was left before Faith’s bedtime with her on the couch, and then she could fully shower and decompress once Faith was asleep.

Claire turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, but before she could take a single step into the living room, a little body was plastered against her legs, wrapping itself tightly around her.

“Hello, baby!” Claire cried out joyously as a buzz of humming filled her ears. “Oh, Mummy missed you so much!” She pried her daughter off her legs and scooped her into her arms, dropping her bag on the porch. Claire held her close, kissing her cheek.

Faith nuzzled her face into Claire’s, rubbing her mother’s cheeks as their foreheads rested together.

“Hello love,” Claire whispered, rocking her gently in the doorway. “I missed you, too, baby. Yes, hello.”

Claire gradually moved them into the apartment, kicking her bag inside and nudging the door shut with her knee.

“Hello, Mrs. Lickett,” Claire said, struggling to meet her eye around Faith’s pawing of her face.

The older woman was smiling warmly. “Hello, Miss Beauchamp.”

“Everything was alright today, then?”

“Sure was,” Mrs. Lickett said. “Faith was a very good girl, right Faith?”

“Is that right, lovie? Were you a good girl for Mrs. Lickett?” Claire shifted her onto one hip and bounced her, eliciting a few giggles. A glance at the telly told her that Finding Nemo was nearing its end; Mrs. Lickett had paused it upon Claire’s arrival.

“How was the first day at the hospital?” Mrs. Lickett said, gathering her things.

“It was…a lot. But good, very good.” Claire crashed on the couch with Faith, trying to settle her and failing. Faith very firmly insisted on remaining in Claire’s lap. “I did miss her very much, though. It’s been a while since I’ve been away from her for so long.” She wrapped her arms around her and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head.

“I understand. I could tell she missed you, too, but I kept her pretty busy.”

“I appreciate that.”

“We started some basic signs today,” Mrs. Lickett beamed. “Might be a while before it registers, but at least she knows now. The more you start using them around her, the better.”

“Right.” Claire nodded. “I’ve been watching those videos you sent me every night.”

“That’s good.”

Faith made a rather indignant noise, pointing toward the telly.

“Somebody wants to get back to her movie,” Mrs. Lickett said.

“Right.” Claire forced a smile. She wanted to stop her from leaving, to sit down at the table and spend the entire night talking about every minute of the entire day, every little accomplishment, everything Faith was learning. But she supposed if she wanted that much involvement, she’d be home with them herself instead of pursuing a career as a full-time physician.

Jesus, Beauchamp. You sound like Frank.

Shuddering at the thought, Claire adjusted Faith so she could watch Mrs. Lickett go. “I’d see you out, but I’m a bit pinned down at the moment.” She gestured with her head to Faith, sitting in her lap and locking her grip on Claire’s arms around her.

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Say goodnight, Faith,” Claire said, releasing an arm so she could wave to the woman. Faith mimicked her, waving emphatically as Mrs. Lickett shut the door behind her. The second she was gone, Faith groaned again at the telly, and Claire smiled.

“Alright, be patient.” Claire reached for the remote on the coffee table. “I’m quite eager to see if Nemo escapes to the ocean, as well.”

Claire, of course, had the movie memorized, along with the rest of the DVDs in their vast collection. Perhaps it was Faith rubbing off on her, but she didn’t think she’d ever tire of watching them over and over again, especially not if it meant she would always get to spend this time cradling her little girl.

When the movie ended about fifteen minutes later, Faith slipped out of Claire’s lap and waited expectantly by the DVD player. Normally, Faith liked to listen to the music during the ending credits, so Claire didn’t make any moves to take the disc out yet. Only when Faith grunted and started tugging on Claire’s hand did she get the message.

“No music tonight, darling?” she said, puzzled, as she removed the disc and handed the box to Faith to file away. She was buzzing with excitement. Something was up, and Claire was none the wiser. The very second the DVD was away, Faith bolted into her bedroom, leaving Claire bewildered. She’d only just started to get up when Faith returned, holding a pile of colorful paper in her hands.

“What’s this, now?” Claire’s face lit up at the sight of Faith’s toothy grin, holding up the construction paper. Claire could see they were cut into the shape of little fish, and they were plastered with glitter, pompoms, google-eyes, and marker.

“Did you make these, Faith? Did you make these little fishies?” Faith hummed loudly and jumped up and down. “Oh, they’re marvelous, darling! You’re quite the little artist!”

Claire perused every single colorful fish, and she made a note to thank Mrs. Lickett. Arts and crafts were something Claire had never been into as a child herself, and something she didn’t have the time or the creative mind to think of. It was obvious now that Faith adored creating, and Claire wanted to smack herself upside the head for not thinking of it sooner. God bless that Mrs. Lickett.

“No wonder we watched Nemo tonight, hm? Are these Nemo’s little friends, then?” Claire held up a bright pink paper fish and swam it around in the air, much to Faith’s delight. Faith joined in the little game, and though Claire knew that bedtime was rapidly approaching — for both of them — she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

After a few minutes, Claire led Faith into the kitchen so they could use magnets to put the fish on the fridge. Claire let her arrange them to her heart’s content, only leading her into the bathroom when she was satisfied.

Teeth brushed, pajamas donned, Faith tucked in, and nightlight on, Claire finally allowed herself to fully feel the exhaustion of her day. The adrenaline of seeing Faith had kept her wide awake on the drive home, and then actually being with her had chased away any thoughts of sleepiness. Now, she barely had the energy to prepare a shower, and she very well almost crashed into bed, fully dressed. It was sheer willpower that finally got her back into the bathroom. This reminded her that tomorrow was bath night for Faith, and she sent up a brief prayer that she would cooperate for Mrs. Lickett. She’d considered waiting until she got home and just taking her into the shower with her, but that would have interrupted the movie, and God forbid that should happen. But if she’d waited until the movie was over, it would have been too late, and the routine would be disrupted. No, it had to be Mrs. Lickett.

Washed and dressed for bed, Claire was wide awake, despite how weariness was etched into every muscle and bone in her body. She could not stop thinking about all of the silly little things that could go wrong while she was occupied at the hospital, of all the possible triggers for a meltdown that she would not be able to stop. No matter how well today had gone, no matter how wonderful Mrs. Lickett was, she’d never stop worrying. Maybe not never, but it would certainly be a long time. At some point in her fevered, internal ramblings, Claire teetered into oblivion, grateful for whatever sleep she was lucky enough to get before her alarm screamed again.

——

Claire drove home the following Friday, her knuckles white on the steering wheel and her vision blurred with tears. She’d been so damn grateful to clock out at four o’clock, and she’d barely made it out of the locker room without falling apart in front of Joe.

She lost a patient for the first time today. Paul Castano, forty-seven, much too young for the heart attack that killed him.

Claire had been beside herself, and Joe had soothed her, told her there was nothing she could have done.

“Go home and hug your daughter, Lady Jane,” he’d said. “Enjoy the horses. You need it as much as she does right now.”

And, Christ, did she.

Claire hugged Faith just a little too hard for the slightest bit too long when she got home after nearly bursting into tears at Faith’s joy to see her. Faith did not tolerate being held as such for very long, and she squirmed out of Claire’s grasp. Today, not only was Faith happy to see her mother, she was excited: she knew it was horse therapy day.

Seeing Faith so happy to see her and so excited to get to the stables was a welcome distraction from the anguish Claire was feeling. The drive over to the stables was calming as well, though Claire was now paranoid about the change in appointment times. Toni hadn’t called her at all, so she had no reason to believe that the switch hadn’t gone over well. She supposed after the day she’d had, she’d be prone to overthinking just about anything.

Upon arrival, she calmed considerably at seeing Faith’s exuberance, and even laughed when she began tugging on her hand, willing them to get inside faster.

Leave it to you to get me laughing on the worst of days, Faith.

The door to the visitor’s center opened, and Faith began humming loudly.

“There they are, the Beauchamp girls!” Toni greeted warmly.

“Hello, Toni. Say hello to Miss Toni, Faith.”

“Hello, Faith!” Toni called as Faith waved timidly.

Erica was standing by the counter, and she crouched down to greet Faith. “Hello, Princess. I’m so happy to see you again!”

Faith smiled shyly and hid half of her little body behind her mother’s legs.

“I’m gonna take you guys out to the stable today, get her started with the hellos and leading her to the riding hall.” Erica stood up to address Claire. “Jamie will join us when we get there.”

“Alright,” Claire said, exhaling deeply. “Shall we?”

——

Joe had been right. Claire needed that hour at the stables just as much as Faith had. As they were driving home, Claire felt something resembling peace settle in her heart. Faith was humming happily, kicking her legs, waving the newest Minion Happy Meal toy in the air.

She did very well again today. She was gentle with Pippi, she didn’t protest about the helmet, she was attentive to both Erica and Jamie. Claire kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go terribly wrong, but it just never did. Not at the stables, at least.

They arrived home, Faith zipping up the stairs to the front door as usual. Claire was grateful to get to watch an entire movie with Faith tonight, to decompress, to hold her little girl and be soothed by her oblivious, youthful happiness. When they passed through the front door, Claire dumped the contents of her arms onto the couch as usual and started toward the kitchen, but Faith did not follow.

“Faithie, come on! Don’t you want your chicken?”

Faith didn’t seem to hear her. She lifted Claire’s purse and looked underneath, and then let out a groan.

“What’s the matter darling?”

Faith made a beeline for the front door, and Claire sprinted to lock it, having forgotten to do so upon arriving home.

“No, no, no,” she quickly blocked Faith’s exit. “What are you doing, Faith? What’s wrong?”

Faith began whining and pawing at Claire, hitting her thighs.

“Do not hit, Faith.” Claire crouched down and grabbed her wrists. “What is wrong? Hm? Hungry? Tired? Pain?” She did the signs that she’d learned from the videos Mrs. Lickett had sent. “Can you sign for Mummy? What’s wrong?”

Of course, she couldn’t. It was much too soon for Faith to be carrying out conversation; she’d only just learned any signs at all.

Faith suddenly began wailing.

“Faith, baby, it’s alright, I’m here…” She wrapped her in her arms, but it only lasted for a moment. Faith clawed her way out and began pounding on the door.

What could possibly be wrong? What was she looking for on the couch…?

Then it dawned on her.

Horsie.

She hadn’t checked to see if Faith was holding the stuffed horse before they left the stables.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright!” She stroked her head and tried cupping her cheeks. “Can you look at my eyes, Faith? Faith…it’s alright. We’ll get Horsie back next week. He’ll be alright.”

She was inconsolable.

Claire exhaled heavily and stood up to retrieve the Happy Meal from the coffee table.

“Aren’t you hungry, darling? McDonald’s! Your favorite!” She held the box in front of Faith’s eyes. “Come on, lovie, let’s go eat.”

She reached to grab her hand, but Faith shrieked and pulled back, apparently having no intention of eating a thing until Horsie was returned. She’d be quite hungry by next Friday.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…” Claire threw the Happy Meal back on the coffee table and ran a hand through her hair.

She needs to eat dinner. I have to make this stop. There has to be something…

“Do you want to watch a movie, lovie? How about Frozen?”

Claire scrambled to get the DVD in, holding her breath until the movie started, praying that she’d be drawn to the screen and sit down to watch quietly, and then she could gradually coax her to eat on the couch.

But she just continued wailing.

Claire knew full well once a meltdown was in motion it had to run its course. And this particular meltdown would not run its course until the missing object in question was found.

But she can’t not eat, she can’t not sleep…

Claire didn’t realize she started crying until it was too late.

It was just too much. She’d held a man’s hand today while he died before her eyes, and then hugged his inconsolable wife while she came to terms with having to tell her children their father wasn’t coming home. And then Claire had come home and sought comfort in her own child, and she’d gotten a bit, but of course it didn’t last long.

She knew by the time she drove back, the stable would be closed, so she could not go and pick it up. She tried calling the stable, but no one answered. Apparently, everyone had already gone home.

Faith gave a particularly loud shriek, and Claire felt all her nerves go shot one by one. Hands trembling she scrolled through her phone for something, anything.

Jamie.

Toni had provided her the stable number, her own number, and Jamie’s number in case the main phone was busy. He’d mentioned that he and the other therapists took turns staying after closing to see to the horses. She threw up a quick prayer before clicking on his contact to start a phone call. Even if he wasn’t the one that had stayed today, perhaps he could tell her who had and give her their number?

As the line rang, she felt surges of panic go through her. Was this even appropriate? To be contacting his personal cell number for something that wasn’t really an emergency?

Faith started pounding on the front door again, screaming her head off all the while.

Claire suddenly didn’t given a fuck about what was appropriate.

——

Jamie was sitting at his kitchen table, enjoying the stir fry he’d made for himself and his usual glass of whisky. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he made a note to check his texts later, but then it kept buzzing. Somebody was calling him.

Curious, he pulled out his phone and saw a number he didn’t recognize.

“Bloody telemarketers,” was his first thought, but the area code was local. Eyes narrowing in curiosity, he swiped up to accept the call, setting his fork down.

"Hallo? Who's this?"

"Uh...hi, Jamie. It's Claire. Claire Beauchamp. From the stables.”

Jamie felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

"Oh...Oh! Uh, hello, Claire. What's uh...what's going on?"

Someone on the other end shrieked, and his stomach lurched.

"Is that Faith? Is she alright?"

"Yes, she's perfectly fine. Physically, at least. She left her horse at the stable, the stuffed one. She's absolutely beside herself and she won't stop crying. Nothing is calming her down, none of her other toys, not putting on a movie or music, not even food.”

Jamie felt his chest tighten. Her voice sounded strained, and she seemed completely frazzled. The second he’d laid eyes on her at the stable today he could tell that something was wrong. It wasn’t the usual sadness he saw in her eyes, it was something different, something visceral. Whatever was happening now was certainly not helping.

“She won't eat, and I know she won't sleep either. I called you because no one was picking up at the stable and I was hoping you'd still be there but just not near the phone?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. Just in the stable. Canna hear the phone," he answered without thinking. What the damned hell are ye doing, lad?

"Oh, thank Christ. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"No," he said quickly. "I'll, uh, I'll bring it to ye."

"What...?"

"Wouldna do fer ye to be drivin' wi' Faith as she is now." Though Jamie was making things up to cover the fact that he was already home, he wasn't entirely wrong. Even if he was at the stable, he wouldn't feel comfortable with Claire driving twenty minutes with a screaming bairn. "Wouldna be safe.”

"But...it's...are you sure...? You wouldn't get in trouble?"

"Nah. I'm sure other therapists have done the same fer some o' their kids."

Keep digging, James.

"But you haven't done it before?"

"No."

"But others have?"

"Aye." Liar.

"Alright...as long as you're sure it's not inappropriate."

"Only inappropriate if we make it so, Sassenach."

Why the bloody fuck did I say that?

Claire cleared her throat. “Right. So…you’ve got my address from Faith’s file?”

“Aye.”

“So...twenty minutes? Half hour?"

"Aye. Just about."

Idiot. Bloody feckin’ idiot.

"Alright. See you soon."

"Bye, then."

Jamie hung up, threw his phone on the table and slapped an exasperated hand over his face.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What is wrong wi’ ye?”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #outlander au #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #faith fraser #jamie fraser #joe abernathy

160 notes · View notes

itsmypeach13 · 4 years ago

Text

[Please welcome my first ever fanfic series chapter 1🤭The story contains of f/f relationships, centres around Asassins Creed Valhalla women female Eivor, Soma Jarlskona(the Bear Heart is my own nickname I gave her will be often used 😁), Randvi, Valka and other fictional characters. It is for +18 readership as it may contain explicit language, drinking, sexual intercourses, fighting in battles. Please bare these in mind before reading.]

TALES OF THE BEAR-HEART:SOMA

CHAPTER I.

A Letter from the Wolf-Kissed

Soma's POV:

I opened my eyes swiftly , my head was heavy with the thoughts swirling inside after a sleepless night. A warming beam of light brightened my room as the sun was rising slowly outside. I turned to my side and looked at the empty side of the bed. I ran my fingers slowly on the cold pillow and let out a sigh. It doesn't matter how many girls of Gratenbridgeshire offered themselves to me , this place belongs to Eivor. Well, only in my dreams..she haunts me like a she-wolf hunrgry to taste meat and blood. And I would always face this wolf, giving in and letting my walls down for her, but this world was apart from reality.

I had a jarldom to rule and protect my people, today was no different either. Just when I finished dressing up I heard knocking on the door like a bear would rant at me from outside.

'Splendid morning Soma, I know you had fun with that blonde amazon last night, I came to make sure we arrive on time , so get your ass out here.'- Revna greeted me with her raspy voice. She was my right hand in ruling the town , my finest warrior and my best friend in one tall, brunette woman. She was even taller then Eivor and always carried two hammers on her sides. Her weapons put many fine men in the grave , Revna was a beast on the battlefield, but a big hearted puppy to her loved ones. She and I grew closer after Birna left us, I needed somebody to trust.

'You think yourself a seeress of all.I haven't slept a bit, even without any ladies invited in my bed-I stepped out of the door grinning, and placed my hand on her shoulder.' Don't worry my friend, Cheolbert must be still sleeping like a baby.

We both headed to the longhouse as Cheolbert arrived late at night and asked an assemby in the morning. I didn't know what was it about, so I felt curious to know. I peaked towards the main entrance seeing jarls arriving on horseback from the neighbouring jarldoms. It must be either a wedding or war ahead of us, I thought to myself.

'What is on your mind Soma? You seem a bit worn-out this morning.-Revna questioned me by gently pushing my right arm. I didn't want to tell her the truth , that Eivor was the cause of my insomnia.

'Everything is fine Revna , it was full moon yesterday and you know well I can't sleep when it comes'-I assured my shield maiden. 'We have a long day ahead of us, I count on you if we have to fight side by side again.'

Revna silently nodded and hurried to the front of the assembly. The longhouse was filled with people, curious eyes were glued to Cheolbert who stepped in , wearing a glorious red and white cloak and black learher tunic. Our eyes met and he signalled me he wanted to speak in private at the side first.

We both went to the map room, his blue eyes were narrow and mysterious. I gave him a welcoming hug.

'Cheolbert my dear friend, I swear you've grown a feet since we last met.'-I teased.

' Soma, good to meet again, I wish the circumstances were different.'

'What happened? '-I grew impatient and started walking up and down.

'Eivor told me to hand over this letter to you first'.-he held out a letter with a raven seal. I turned my back so that he can't see my face, and I felt the world around me spin. Is she in trouble? Is she alright?

Dear Soma,

I write you in haste now, as your rotten friend Brina , whom you kept so close to your heart as a pet has betrayed all of us. She is a serpent who slyly earned your trust. She got married to Ivarr the Boneless and they sworn revenge on both Ravensthorpe and Gratenbridgeshire. Ivarr wants to be king of this continent...son is like farher. Their fleet is now close to us, we must unite our men and act swiftly. Please come as fast as you can to Ravensthorpe. I already informed your neighbours, I sent Cheolbert to gather all the men at Gratenbridgeshire.

When we win there will be a cause of celebration I sware to you dear. With all my thanks.

Eivor the Wolf-Kissed

My heart grew heavy with disappointment and sadness over hearing what Birna brought for our people. After all I had two friends betray me, I will cut the throat of this traitor too I swore to myself.

I felt blood rush to my cheeks as the word 'dear' was ringing like a bell in my head. The wolf could play mind games with me even if she wasn't here.

The assemby was quick, I told my people to gather every man to fight for the woman who made this place a safe home for us. I climbed up to my black mare after putting on my silver and blue gear and dictated a rushed tempo for our horses on the way to Ravensthorpe, so our army arrived the same afternoon. I held my back tightly and confident in my straddle to show people a firm leader. As we rode closer to the gates a flood of excitement gripped my stomach. It was funny because I feared not the bloodshed of war or heavy strikes of axes, but seeing the deep blue eyes of Eivor again. Too afraid what I would see in the reflection of her endless iris. Just when I was confident enough to let the idea of the two of us together go , I knew it well the depth of her eyes will eat me alive again. Somehow Freya threads our paths in the same direction? Why does she condemned me to suffering?

***

As I got off my mare at the entrance of the longhouse Valka humbly walked up to me and greeted with a tusk of her best mead. It was a secret recipe I was obsessed with so Eivor sometimes sent a few barrells to me. Valka made the sweet liquid with a hint of star anise and petals of orange jasmine.

'Now that you are finally here the universe is balanced'- she winked handing over the mead. I had no idea what she mean by that, but I gratefully accepted and took a long shot.

'Thanks Valka, I am happy to see my favourite seeress. -I winked at her and slightly raised my tusk.' May this give me strength and fortune on the battlefield.

'Freya will have her hand on your shoulder , she has plans with you.'

This conversation made me suspicious Valka had a vision of the future and it seems I am the part of it. Anyhow, I was sure of one thing, my duty is to be here and help.

'I can't wait to fulfill my destiny, my friend. Whatever the future holds I am ready to take it in.'

In that moment Eivor rushed out of the longhouse seeming quite annoyed with something her rough hands forming into fists. She looked astonishing, deadly in her black and gold armor, the axe of her father as a token swagged on her side. Even if it was a brief moment, I saw her eyes widened at the sight of me, her look pierced into my soul when she smirked at me. She was saying without words that she was grateful that I came and trusted me, this filled my heart with warmth and my chest swelled.

'Dear Soma' -she spoke with her deep, raspy voice that was stealing my sanity every time I heard her close.'I knew you would come and aid us in the moment of need.'-she took my right hand for a moment then let it fall back.

'You know I'll always be there like a true friend. It's my pleasure.-Eivor's smile ended at the word friend, but people around us were staring and we weren't more than that behind their backs either.

To cut off our slightly awkward meeting, Randvi stormed out of the wooden bulding her cheeks burning, and arms folded. She looked like a child who didn't get the piece of cake. I wondered what happened between those two in there. In the second she caught a glipse of me and Eivor standing quite close , Randvi joined between us and politely thanked me to bring a huge force here. She was a perfect diplomat and an impeccable service around me after that.She arranged a dinner for only the leaders and jarls to lay out the plan for tomorrow's battle. We decided to surprise Birna and Ivarr and hide our best archers in the woods until they ride towards the gates. I must admit I can see now why Eivor loves Randvi. The copper-haired woman was not only beautiful with soft features, but intelligent in a way that humiliated the man leaders here.

It felt extremely hard to look at Randvi and listen to the details as I felt my helpless jealousy hit me like a wave. It angered me how Eivor drunk every word she uttered her eyes sometimes wandered lover than Randvi's lips.

After dinner I wanted to retreat to my tent as soon as possible , the sight of Eivor and Randvi in the same room sickened me. Before I could do that Randvi came to me with a letter.

'Soma, wait. Let me give this letter to you.' she instructed quickly.

'Who is it from?'-I enquired furrowing my brows with second guessing.

'It's uh..from me actually...-she hesitated then blurted out' there are certain things you better read than hear me say it out loud.'

This fucking woman had guts to speak to me like that..I knew it was intently personal. She must have heard rumors of Eivor's visits to me sometimes, but hardly knew the wolf was only hers not mine for a single bit.

'How thoughtful of you. The rumors are true , you really have balls in spite of being a shieldmaid. I will read your bedtime story later, now if you excuse me.' Randvi 0-Soma 1. Every inch of me wanted to tear off she seal and read it right away but I waited until I was left alone in the provacy of my tent.

Jarl Soma,

Please let me be honest and plain with you. Eivor's invite here was merely political. I know more than anyone how she behaves around women to get what she wants. I have firsthand experience in that. But you have to know Eivor doesn't look at you like a woman, she told me she sees a long lost older sister in you. If I were you, I would think twice what I let people gossip about and make a fool of myself.

Randvi

In the second I finished reading I crumpled the piece of paper and thowed behind my back. Her words were agressive and protective just like a female wolf and I could feel Randvi's bite marks on my neck.

I decided not to believe anything until I asked Eivor.. oh but how could I do that? The wolf would realise I cared about her in a different way, and I couldn't let that happen until she gives me something. A flickering sign in the hollowing darkness I am living in.

I decided to visit Valka and have drinks together, I desperately needed somebody to keep my mind of this mess I became part of.

***

The little hut stood with watchful eyes on the slight hill close to the village. There were died flowers hanged outside and a sweet smoky and flowery scent filled my nostrils. As I get close I recognized Valka now wearing a red gown with hood on her head. She looked like Freya preparing a love potion as she was pouring something in a tusk and put some petals on the top.

'Good Evening Valka.. I hope you don't mind my late night visit. I just needed some of your special mead I guess and my feet brought me here' I stared to her fiery reddish brow eyes. She had neat tattos on her face forming dots and gentle marks on her smooth skin.

'I knew you would come tonight, so I prepared this mead with some herbs that will rock you in a pleasant slumber.'she handed over the tusk , the liquid looked like shiny rubies.

'How is that you always know better what I need than myself?-I smirked at her and found comforting in her eyes.

'A gift from the gods my lady-her eyes had a mysterious spark in them, a little dimple formed on her face from smiling.

'Come sit with me inside, it is getting cold out here.'

I nodded and followed the seeress into the firm hut, theought the entrance ornamented with animal bones and more dried flowers.

There was a freshly lit fire inside warming up my limbs and cheeks. It also colored the space with wrath orange that played on our faces like the sunset.

'Now tell me, what makes your heart heavy?'-she asked with care.

'I think I feel a bond to Eivor that is irrational and grows between us every time we meet. It is like an invisible string pulls me towards her maybe it's the wish of the Gods.-I sipped bitterly in the mead , a slight soothing feeling ran through my body.

'We both know our fate is inevitable, so you have to show what's inside your heart first.' -Valka looked deeply in my eyes. -You are Soma, our fearless Bear warrior sent by Freya to our aid and to fight on Eivor's side.

'Randvi told me Eivor loves me with a sisterly care.. I image she is right., look at her, she could have anybody.

'Don't listen to Randvi , she is hurt and trapped in her own feeling of helplessness. If she can't have Eivor accepted by the public, then nobody can'-Valka nodded and squuezed my hand.

'I just can't trust people anymore Valka. My love towards people turned into a bitter storm inside me.-Except for Revna, I couldn't trust a soul, not even Eivor. She didn't reveal her hidden side to me.

'Just talk to her in the morning, it will ease your turmoil Soma.-she winked and headed to bed. To my utter surprise she started to undress in front of my sleepy eyes, they popped in surprise no matter the mead.

Valka's toned back was shining under the wrath orange fireligt, she revealed her impeccably and naked body.

'Good night Valka, I have to get some sleep now. Thank...you...for uh.. everything!' I mumbled to her and hurried to my hut until I was able to stand still. Before sleep my head was filled with Eivor's piercing eyes and... I was a bit surprised but Valka's slender back flashed through as well. Damn, this woman was also fine. Like all women!

My eyelids felt to heavy , soon enough I was fast asleep like a newborn baby.

#fanfiction #eivor #ac eivor #eivor wolfkissed #female eivor #ac valhalla #lady eivor #assassin's creed valhalla #eivor wolfsmal #ac soma #somabearheart #soma jarlskona #eivor x soma #ac valhalla fanfic

37 notes · View notes

cicici03 · 4 years ago

Text

Conform or Change- Chapter 3

“ Shy, honey, open the door please!” Ms. Anna Mae pleading with Shy. With that, Elena and Marilyn was right behind Ms. Anna Mae at the door.

“ I am fine Ms.Anna Mae.” Shy mumbled loud enough for them to hear her.

“ Shy, now open this door. It’s almost the kids bedtime and you know that they don’t go to sleep if you don’t read them a story.” Marilyn said back through the door.

Shy heard her, but she didn’t want to move from out the bed.

She had so many emotions going through her head about her husband: anger, disappoint, and much sadness. Shy couldn’t believe that her husband would be thinking about another woman while having sex with her.

Shy didn’t know what to do.

She was lost.

The one person that she have loved all these years is going astray.

As she snapped out of her thinking. She heard her sister rambling to Ms. Anna Mae and Elena.

“ You know your no-good cousin did this to my sister. First, he knock her up out of wedlock. With that, it cause my father to not talk to my sister. Second, he embarrassed her by having that nasty, sleazy woman! Finally, he won’t let my sister go to damn school! The thing is, he not paying for it!” Marilyn shouted while looking at Elena and Ms. Anna Mae.

“ Well, if you never brought it up. Shy would not be in this predicament! She don’t need to go to school. She have a husband that loves her and protects her!” Ms. Anna Mae snapped back while pointing at Marilyn.

Elena watch as the women where eye to eye. One thing that she have learn was not to get between two black people when they arguing. Cause they both will look at you like you did something.

“ Ms. Anna Mae that is what your husband may have done to you. However, I don’t thinking cheating is a manly thing! With that, Shy deserve something for her damn self. She take care his kids, and make sure everything is always perfect for him! Well, damn, I am going to do something perfect for my sister now!” Marilyn said with much authority.

As Marilyn finish her last sentence, Shy open the door.

The three women look at her and they could tell that she been crying hard. Her usual glowing,dark skin was dull. To her eyes all puffy and red.

Marilyn hurts when seeing her sister like this.

“ Can you guys please talk about that somewhere else. So I can put the kids to bed.” Shy quietly commanded to the three women.

Shy walk pass through them and downstairs to tell the kids it was time for bed.

Ms. Anna Mae walked right behind her. While Elena and Marilyn was left alone in the hallway.

As Marilyn was about to walk, Elena pulled her arm. Elena went right for Marilyn lips.

Both of them were fighting for dominance. With that, Elena won with little to no effort. As they kept kissing, Marilyn pushed Elena away.

“ You know that we can’t do that in public!” Marilyn whispered at Elena.

Marilyn and Elena knew each since that day when Ernest, Shy, and Marilyn went to Florian’s mother funeral.

They been close friends ever since. However both of them went down different paths after high school. Elena got married, while Marilyn went to school.

As Elena got a divorce and Marilyn was visiting. One thing led to another at Marilyn’s apartment. Every since then, they have been having this secret relationship.

“ What is wrong with me kissing you in public?” Elena whispered harshly at Marilyn.

“ You know exactly what is wrong. We can’t because if somebodies find out. We both are over!” Marilyn whispered back while breaking loose of Elena’s hold.

“ Well you have change a lot Marilyn. Is it someone else. A man?” Elena asked.

Marilyn looked at her.

“ My father have told me that this man wants to court me.” Marilyn mumbled slowly.

“ Are you going to do it?” Elena asked worriedly which scared her because would not be losing her friend, but her soul mate.

Marilyn looked at her and turn to walk downstairs.

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

“ The Princess and The Prince live happily every after.” Shy said while closing the book.

“ Mommy, can you please read another story that is not about princess’s!” Florian Jr. yelped from his bed.

“ No, Mommy, read another princess story!” Anastasia said in her quiet voice.

Shy sat in the chair in between the two children bed. Shy watch as the kids bicker back and forth.

She could see that Florian Jr was the exact replicate personality wise of Florian. Then could see her Anastasia was the exact replicate personality wise of herself.

She didn’t like that.

“ That’s why you are doo doo head!” Florian Jr. yelled at his sister.

Anastasia coward back and didn’t say nothing.

“ Now, hey, you don’t call your sister that. You have to take up for her, love her, cherish her, and be her protector. You not supposed to embarrass her and treat all types of way Florian! Florian you suppose to love your wife!” Shy cried out.

The kids look at her like she was crazy.

“ Momma are you talking about me or daddy?” Florian Jr. asked while looking at his mom which she had tears coming down.

A voice made itself known.

“ You know how mommy sometimes mix us up.” Florian bombing voice said calmly.

The kids turn to the door, to see their dad. The kids smiled and got out of bed to run to him.

Florian was always a good father to the kids. He loved his kids so much.

Shy still sitting in the chair, wiped her tears off her face. She got up as Florian was walking over with the kids to put them back in bed.

Shy didn’t even look his way, she walk pass to check on Andrada and Benjamin in the other room.

As Shy made sure the little ones was still sleep, She went downstairs to the kitchen.

However, she was surprise due to seeing Marilyn, Elena, and Ms. Anna Mae still here on the couch.

Shy looked at the clock on the wall, reading 9:00.

“ Why are y’all still here and up? ” Shy asked as she stop in front of the couch the three women was sitting.

“ Well, I live here.” Elena said while closing her eyes.

“ I live here too!” Ms. Anna Mae sassly said while reading her Bible.

“ I don’t live here, but you thought I was going to leave this house without my answer.” Marilyn said in a matter of fact attitude.

As Shy was about to say something, Florian walked downstairs and interject.

“ Why she need to give you an answer. I already told you, she is not going.” Florian said while walking into the kitchen.

Marilyn anger was starting to rise.

“ The kids are in bed. So don’t wake them up please.” Ms. Anna Mae yelp out while still reading her Bible.

Marilyn walked into the kitchen, with Shy right on her tail.

As they got there, Florian got some of the leftovers out of the refrigerator. As he was about to grab something out of it. Marilyn slam it.

“ Now that I got your attention. My sister is going to school and you can’t do nothing about it!” Marilyn screeched at Florian.

Florian looked at her then to Shy.

Shy knew that her sister was overstepping a boundary as Florian would say.

“ Marilyn lets talk about this later.” Shy said grabbing Marilyn arm.

Marilyn snatch her arm away from Shy.

Still looking at Florian, Marilyn spoke.

“ No Shy! I am not going to do that! Cause you deserve to go to that program. The only reason I took the job because I want something that would be better for you! So you are going.You already disappointed dad. Don’t disappoint me either.” Marilyn finished up as she turn around to Shy.

“ So with that, I know you not going to disappoint me. I will be here at 10:00, so you can start orientation.” Marilyn said while looking at Shy.

With that, Marilyn went and got her bag and left.

That only left Shy and Florian in the kitchen.

As Shy looked at him, she knew he was upset.

“ You going to let your sister talk to me like that?” Florian asked with much hostility behind his voice.

Shy said nothing as usual.

“ I told you already that you are not going! With that, I told her to be out of my house Shy!” Florian yelled at Shy while opening up his brew.

As he yelled at her, Shy started to cry. Shy really wanted to speak up for herself, but she scared that its going lead the second man out of her life. Her dad left her because of her getting pregnant out wedlock.

Shy cried harder when thinking about her dad. She miss him dearly. She haven’t talk to him in eight years.

Then Shy mind went to what happen two years ago this day.

Shy cried even harder.

Elena, Ms.Anna Mae, and Mr. Alexundru came to the entrance of the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about. They saw Shy crying and Florian just drinking his brew.

“ Florian, what the hell is wrong?” Elena asked walking over to her cousin while Ms. Anna Mae comfort Shy.

“ Nothing wrong, but Shy crying every single day. When it is her fault what happen to this family two years ago.” Florian said with his voice cracking. Florian walked out and into his office.

As Shy heard what he said, she broke down even more. Shy fell to floor in tears of hysteria.

Elena and Ms. Anna Mae was crying to comfort as best they could. While Mr. Alexundru was looking at Shy in his wheel chair.

Mr. Alexundru looked to the stairs to see the kids looking at the commotion below.

Mr. Alexundru move his hand to tell the kids to leave.

As the kids left, Florian Jr. and Anastasia help the little ones back in bed.

“ Why mommy crying? What happen twooth years ago.” Andrada said with his lisp as Florian Jr. tuck him into bed.

The twins didn’t say anything because they knew what happen, but they didn’t know what happen that day.

One thing that both the twins knew that mommy and daddy didn’t seem to love each other no more.

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

Wow. So many questions and little to none answers.

Elena and Marilyn?

Shy’s Father, Earl?

Marilyn telling Florian what’s going to happen?

Main Question though:

WHAT HAPPEN TWO YEARS AGO?

With that, you have to stay tune in for it.

While waiting for the answer, give me some theories or something that you think would effect both of them so deeply.

COMMENT, REBLOG, AND LIKE!

Taglist: @19jammmy @twistedcharismaaa @designerwriterchic @queen-zelieonna @amethyst09 @champagnesugamama @natashacoco @cocobutterqwueen @bvssmob

#florian big nasty munteanu #florian munteanu x black reader

25 notes · View notes

grownups-are-the-real-monsters · 4 years ago

Text

(There's No Place Like) Jake's House for Christmas

{I’ve decided to post some Holiday one-shots during this Holiday season!! Leading up to Christmas, I’ll post a one-shot for a few different King Ships so be on the look out!!}

Summary: Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall.

He glanced over his shoulder to spot his husband digging through the box of dusty decorations with something like pensive curiosity on his face. Almost as if he had trouble seeing the point in decorating at all, which Cuthbert knew was a very likely possibility. It might irritate him if Roland didn’t flash him genuinely warm smiles every twenty minutes.

Fandom: The Dark Tower

Ships: Roland/Cuthbert, Jake/Benny, Susannah/Eddie

Word Count: 6,773

The year of Jake’s 13th Birthday had so far been the busiest one in the Deschain-Allgood household. The husbands had finally managed to gather a regular crowd at their own bar which they’d opened just the previous year (despite all obstacles from outside and inside sources). And just a few weeks shy of Jake’s big day, their old, ‘We’re Homophobic but won’t say it out-loud’ neighbors moved out of the sweet brick house to their right. Roland had helped carry out boxes just to make them uncomfortable one last time. Loving Father and darling son had played an extra long game of catch there in the front-lawn while the old sweethearts ‘politely’ hid their scowls.

From that point on, dead silence was all that came from next door. Roland had been pleased with the idea of having no obnoxious neighbors coming to replace them but just days before Jake’s birthday, a large moving truck rolled down the street. It had hiccupped like an old man before parking up against the Robinson’s old curb. Cuthbert had just enough time to spy on them through the safety of their large Livingroom window before he was due to open their bar for the night. “Young enough to be our kids, maybe.” He’d wrinkled his nose as Jake observed the couple for himself.

“You sure that one isn’t yours, dad?” Jake bumped Cuthbert’s arm and gestured to the skinny long-haired man pushing his girlfriend up the walk-way in her wheelchair. They’d stayed silent again for a moment or two, father and son kneeling on the breaking couch. The neighbor turned to get a box then, showing off a t-shirt which read ‘Somebody who hates me went to Colorado & all they got me was this dumbass shirt’.

Cuthbert and Jake fell into eerily similar sounding hysteric laughter while Roland finally attempted to sneak some glances.

They’d had to order in that night because Roland burned their dinner.

More time began to pass and Jake realized he’d have to save himself from the embarrassment of having 1 one incredibly recluse father and 1 overly-social dad and make the first neighborly move all on his own.

That had been accomplished by playing out in the backyard with Oy on the finest of autumn afternoons. He kept himself busy until he suspected someone on the other side of that wood fence had come out to enjoy the weather. So...

He picked up his catching ball and ‘accidentally’ tossed it over.

What he hadn’t known was that his neighbor, later introduced as Eddie Dean, had been sitting in a lounge chair positioned perfectly for him to get popped in the shoulder.

However, Eddie of New York hadn’t cared. He played about 15 minutes worth of catch with Jake until gathering his girlfriend, Susannah, for a formal family introduction.

Jake didn’t get to hear much of that first conversation they’d had with his Father’s but he didn’t need to. For he’d always had a knack for sensing certain things. What he felt from Eddie and Susannah was an outpour of warmth and determination for life...Jake supposed that was exactly what tied Roland to them so instantly.

: : : : : : : : : Time had slipped through young Jake’s fingers like the fluffy snow which now fell from the gray clouds hovering above the neighborhood. Silver bells were ringing out for Christmas and the upcoming New year.

He passed through the cold, dead eyes of many Snowmen on his walk home from the last day of school. He pulled aimlessly at his heavy coat (old and comforting, passed down from Cuthbert) when he felt a sudden jolt of shock that took a bit of his breath away. He didn’t have to look to know who that was.

There against the white fuzzy sky and curling Jake’s back in a forward hunch was Benny Slightman and his familiar toothy grin. “Merry Christmas Jake!”

“Gee, thanks Benny.” He did his best to hide his amused expression, trying to look back at him as best as he could. Benny shifted and looped his arms around his neck with ease. “Happy Holidays, here’s a broken back.” He huffed yet hiked the slightly smaller boy up to keep steady.

Benny only chuckled happily, he felt the breath on his ear as he wiggled his feet. “This isn’t the way to your house...?”

Jake rolled his eyes as he started to turn around. “Astute observation Benny.” He reached up to move his friend’s hand down to avoid being choked. “I was going to walk past your house to see if I’d run into you and....”

Another laugh. Benny tightened his grip and enjoyed the sounds of crunching snow under his friend’s feet. He nuzzled his face into the dip between Jake’s cheek and shoulder.

Those same snowmen from before, with eyes of dull black, watched again as Jake padded back with a boy caught on his back. They, of course, said nothing but stared one. Sometimes from under knit hats but more often they sported simple bald heads. “I have a question for you, Benny.”

His friend hummed but spoke nothing.

“My dad’s are having this Christmas party tonight.” He shoved the boy farther up his back, gently. “Our neighbors are coming and everything. Do you wanna come?” The slight hiccup of nerves in his voice was obvious only to him.

“Sounds fun to me!”

Jack smiled, holding onto the boy’s legs a bit tighter. ‘Yes. Benny could come. Yes, he could come and play.’

Benny had yet to actually come over to his home. He’d never even seen Roland or Cuthbert--not that Jake had been afraid for such. Benny was purely sweet. Older in years but younger at heart. Jake had no doubt that the boy would be impressed by his fathers. There weren’t very many people in town these days that weren’t. It sounded braggy but Jake took pride in his family. He just didn’t want them to think...-

He’d mentioned his buddy to his parents a few times...at least enough for Cuthbert to insist he invite him over. But for an odd reason, Jake kept on keeping Benny to himself like his own special secret friend. Cuthbert sensed as much considering he gave Jake mini-looks whenever the subject came up. He liked for his son to let-go and behave like a carefree boy and if getting to spend some time away from home with a new friend was the way to this, he’d be ok with that.

Benny sniffled into his mitten as snow continued to flurry down all around them, standing out against the colorful strings of lights around the streetlamps. Christmas was upon them now but would be over just as quickly. Boy boys silently hoped for a long stand-still pause; one to make the Holiday last much longer.

“Wanna walk to the Dunkin’ Donuts for hot chocolate?”

Jake attempted to look back again. “Yeah! I’ll even buy you a doughnut.” He looked both ways once they reached the busy street and allowed Benny to slide off his back and plant his feet on the concrete.

“What did I do to deserve that?” He teased but Jake just shrugged.

“Nothing.” He looked off down the distant right and felt a knot of pure joy hit his gut.

: : : : : : : : :

Cuthbert’s toes were going to break off in a few seconds if he didn’t switch positions but the glittering Christmas lights would never get put up that way. He continued to stand on his tip-toes, pressing the green wire of multi-colored bulbs against their wall.

The humble green tree had been set-up in their living room for a week previous to the day Cuthbert announced he wanted to have a Christmas party. Roland had lifted Jake off the floor to hang the star.

The home--their home--was sort of small but fleshed out with the strapping personalities of the men who’d bought it years ago. It shined during each Christmas season because they had a young boy--who was now a ways past young...

Slowly, he lowered himself down and came upon his husband to kneel next to him. He briefly admired the box which turned out to be filled with the ghosts of Christmas past; macaroni noodle ornaments made by the hands of a boy not too much younger than Jake. “Our son is a teenager.”

Roland scoffed, thumping his hands past several tongue depressor reindeer. His eyes--heavy with sleep--blinked thoughtfully.

“Seems like just yesterday he was following you wherever you went.” Cuthbert gently reached for Roland’s hand. “Remember him walking around the house with your boots on-?” He paused, feeling that memory deep in his chest. “I look at him and I see you, Roland.” He began to rub his thumb in smooth circles against the rough skin of his husbands palm. “Being a father looks good on you.”

“Better on you.” Roland gently slapped Cuthbert’s hand. For a moment they just leaned on each other. “I’m gonna miss driving him everywhere. I already don’t get to tell him stories at bedtime anymore-” Roland shrugged, to anyone but his husband he would only look indifferent but Cuthbert knew he was broken up.

“There’s time left, Roland. Lots. Do you good to remember that.” He kissed him quickly. “We’ve done good. Combing knots out of his hair...taking him to school.” This time he had to stop himself with a purse of his lips. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who told me he didn’t know he could be a father.”

Roland looked a mixture of touched and sad. “I still think about that day I dropped him.”

Cuthbert rolled his eyes but his stomach dropped at the memory-echo of little Jake’s screaming mixing with Roland’s horrified gasps. It’d been shortly after the adoption process. That baby had wiggled his tiny body right out of his new father’s arms and tumbled to the floor. Carpeted but still just about the scariest sound in the world. “That was a long time ago. You wouldn’t ever let him fall again.” He teased but with a genuine smile.

Roland only smiled back, kissed Cuthbert’s temple and continued to sort through the box. Together they separated what was worth keeping out & what needed to be thrown away. Cuthbert’s dancing snowmen were in the garbage pile for two-minute intervals every twenty minutes before Roland finally gave up.

“Bert?” Roland frowned as he watched his husband carry the snowmen into their bedroom. No answer. “Cuthbert?” still nothing. He frowned, hopping up to chase after him.

Cuthbert was rooting his hands through their sock draw and occasionally pulling out a few pairs and folding them together. The snowmen were dancing and singing just at his eye-line. It was obviously very amusing to him which Roland couldn’t help but admire.

Cuthbert’s broken nails caught on threads every few minutes so he’d pull and pull until the thin string would just snap. But on the eighth time he grew a little bit restless and snapped the string. Quickly shutting the drawer afterwards. “Roland?”

He turned to his husband, who was still lazing around behind him like he wasn’t sure how to decorate without direction. He gave him a small smile and walked towards him, putting his hand on his back. Roland looked up at him, waiting for him to speak whatever was on his mind. “Do you think-” he paused for a second before shaking her head. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Roland smiled up at him and chuckled. “You say a lot of stupid things, I won’t mind.”

Cuthbert gave him a look that he’d seen a lot of wives give their husbands when they were younger and felt a genuine thrill that he had a husband to be annoyed with now. It was a look of amusement and familiarity. “Well, I was just wondering…” he began again, going back over to the drawers to root around for Christmas socks. “Do you think Jake has something to tell us?” he asked, a little unsure of himself.

Roland cocked his head to the side and looked lost. “Like what?” He asked, swirling an extra mini string on dead lights in his hand. Cuthbert sighed and leaned back on the drawers behind him. Clasping his hands together, he spoke again.

“Well, he’s been spending a lot of time with that Benny kid….” he trailed off, waiting to see the glaze of realization in his husbands eyes but Roland just smiled.

“Yeah, that’s great. Isn’t it? I’m glad he’s got someone to hang out with, I was getting worried-”

“Roland!” he crossed his arms and the corner of his mouth raised into a small grin. “I mean, do you think the boys….”

Roland still had that clueless look on his face so Cuthbert tried to specify with a look what he had actually meant. “….like each-other?” he finished.

“No.” Roland answered, definitively. Just like that. Cuthbert was actually a bit hurt by the quick rejection. He raised his brows.

“That was decisive.” His head shook just the same as the snowmen behind him. “I was only asking because he’s just seemed so happy-”

“Because they are friends.” Roland shrugged.

“Yes but he keeps him away from us-”

“Jake probably doesn’t want us to embarrass him.”

Cuthbert scowled at the contestant interruptions. “Yes but they go down to the woods all the time-”

“And? We used to do that all the time too.” Roland shrugged again which defused some of Cuthbert's anger into laughter.

“We’re married now! We snuck down there to make-out! Don’t you see my point here?” He hunched over to get the last of his hearty laughter out but Roland looked completely annoyed by the whole show. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Good.” He rolled his eyes, shoving the string-lights aside so he could leave the room.

Cuthbert followed him like a lost puppy, same hurt expression too. “Why is this making you so uncomfortable?”

Roland turned, just now noticing that Cuthbert had stuck an old (probably rusty) Christmas pin through the earring hole he’d first given himself in the sixth grade. He sighed with a soft expression, now reaching over to unclasp the damn thing before it got infected.

Cuthbert just moved back as if burned. The pain that cause Roland was obvious on his face.

“I don’t want to think about him growing up right now, Bert.” His partner’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. There was more to the issue, that they both knew, but it was have to wait for a later period. Now, Cuthbert just brushed his hand against his love’s face and smiled.

Outside the snow pelted down harder and covered their lawn in a cold blanket of slush. The picture of their son’s growth would surely not freeze but the air surrounding their home most defiantly would. So, Cuthbert decided it was time to make some hot chocolate and cuddle with the man he’s been enamored with since they were small.

“You want a candy cane in yours?” Roland asked, as if reading his thoughts.

“Yes please.”

A few kisses and a laugh later, the men were guzzling down their warm drinks and waiting for their company to come.

: : : : : : : : :

'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose …’

Benny’s nose twitched almost as if taking cue from the song and Jake thought it had to be the most adorable thing he’d ever seen...He looked back down at his sad little doughnut and sighed. Hot chocolate burned it’s way down his throat while he wondered just what his parents were doing.

The two boys sat in the lonesome corner of the Dunkin Donut’s where he knew for a fact Benny had once spilled a bottle of strawberry milk all over himself when he was nine. The picture of the incident in his mind made Jake want to giggle. Instead, he watched Benny pull his sweater sleeves over his hands and drink tiny sips of his hot drink.

“Quit your looking at me.” Benny chuckled almost self consciously--though he needn’t be--and tried to flip Jake off with subtlety he never had. It only made Jake feel alive with joy; he kept looking. “You can get a cup of whip-cream for dogs, look-!” Benny cast his eyes over at a couple feeding their little furry-friend at the counter. “We should’ve brought Oy.”

Jake loved the way Benny absolutely adored his dog just as much as he did. It almost made him feel like they were part of a little unit. “I think you only like me for Oy.”

Nat King Cole changed to Paul McCartney and Benny bounced a little atop his stool. “He’s a nice bonus.” He chuckled. “But you’re my honest favorite.” Benny leaned in closer over the table.

Jake surprised himself by letting a blush bled into his cheeks. He quickly looked away.

Benny, as carefree as ever, didn’t seem to notice. “What are your dad’s gonna think of me?” That question shocked Jake. He nearly choked on his doughnut.

“I guess what they already think of you.” He finished chewing and swallowed carefully under Benny’s watchful eyes. He wanted more, obviously. Jake pounded his fist to his chest. “I’ve never been very good at making friends, to be completely honest Benny. My parents are pretty happy with you.”

That earned him a smile as white as the snow. “And they haven’t even met me yet!” He struck a bit nervous to Jake in that moment.

Honestly, Jake couldn’t see how anyone in their right mind could dislike Benny. There was so much the boy found to love in his friend--his openness, appetite for fun, his willingness to work hard when there was chores to do. And there was that yodeling laugh of his--to name just a few things. “I have your Christmas present ready for tonight.”

Benny was aglow at just the mention. “Me too.” He tapped his bag, which was currently close to sitting in a puddle. Jake chuckled lightly and allowed himself to admire his friend.

He thought back to the time not so long ago when they’d met. When Jake had been introduced to Benny’s kindly personality. He’d been deeply afraid he would only lose the friendship they had developed so quickly. He’d been a boy who constantly lived in his head and not many kids his age liked him. But surprisingly, Benny had grown quite attached to Jake. Reminding the boy of that John Denver song that Cuthbert sometimes sang around the house... ‘Follow me where I go what I do and who I know. Make it part of you to be a part of me’

Jake let a quick release of air pass his lips in the way Benny used to do when they slept close together at the Slightman household. He was growing attached as well...

“Jake!”

The boy did not jump...not in the slightest. But Benny nearly jumped to the ceiling, it was quite funny considering the man who shouted was just Father Callahan. The man from Salem’s Lot who now lived here in town with them.

He was dusting powdery snow from his shoulders and juggling a few bags as he strolled past the counter (for now) to say hello. It looked like a scene straight from the print of a Christmas card. “Good afternoon.” Jake hopped off his stool to help the man set his bags on a nearby table.

“Oh, thank you.” Callahan smiled, taking off his gloves with an appreciative expression.

“No problem, Father.” He shrugged then looked back to Benny, looking a bit...shy. Which was a bit odd. “This is my friend, Benny Slightman.”

Callahan held out a hand and shook with the boy before digging through his bags. Jake watched him with amusement. “Would you like to come to our Christmas party, sir?”

The man turned, looking a bit touched. “If your parents would have me.” He nodded to himself. “I believe I carry a gift for your Roland in one of these bags.” He huffed.

“I hope you’ll promise not to have one of those long religious debates with my dad.” Exasperation was hard to keep from his voice. Benny looked like he wanted to chuckle but...he held back for whatever reason.

Donald Callahan held up his hands in mock surrender. “I promise.”

: : : : : : : : :

The twenty-three year olds had much more energy than Roland imagined he even had left. He watched--gleefully if you asked Cuthbert--as Susannah and Eddie Dean made their way up the walk to the door.

They were chuckling already, Roland could hear Eddie singing ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’. He smiled and opened the door before they could even knock.

‘Life was funny. Sometimes it delivered you two of the greatest friends a person could have. But it also gave you the inability to voice your genuine thankfulness for their being.’

“Merry Christmas!” Eddie leaned in to smack a kiss against Roland’s rough cheek before moving on to Cuthbert. Roland did not have the time to playfully shove him back before Suzie approached with that special little smile just for him.

“Happy Holidays old man.” She smiled and accepted a gentle hug before wheeling herself in the open spot next to Cuthbert’s rocking chair.

Eddie Dean was admiring the tinsel surrounding the kitchen while mixing himself some kind of Christmas drink. Roland watched his friend for a few moments, only meeting his eye when he spilled the eggnog into the sink. He took the time to be grateful that he could share Eddie’s laughter.

“Where’s Jake?” Suzie craned her neck towards the bedrooms. As she did so, Oy padded his way out of Jake’s and scampered over to jump into her lap. He didn’t usually take to strangers but Eddie & Susannah seemed to be exceptions.

“Out with his friend, Benny.” Cuthbert took the same drink order which Eddie handed to him without hesitation. “Think he probably invited him over for the party.” He hushed his voice like the topic was a secret.

From the kitchen, Eddie noticed that with ease as he stirred Roland’s hot chocolate. Standing there in his neighbors--friends--house with his fuzzy snowmen socks pressed against the cold tile, Eddie Dean felt at home. “You ok, big guy?” He slapped the back of his hand to Roland’s hard chest.

The big guy in question wiped down the splash of eggnog he’d gotten on his shirt and shrugged. He would speak nothing of the stirring inside him, that much Eddie knew.

“I brought a classic Christmas movie.” He changed the subject for him, popping some kind of snack he’d found into his mouth. He pulled free a DVD case from his back pocket.

“Star Wars...” Roland squinted like an old man to read “Is not a Christmas movie. Put that away before Cuthbert thumps you.” He chuckled, sipping hesitantly at his drink.

“Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, thank you very much.” Eddie scoffed. “It takes place on a snow planet. That’s close enough.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m still mad at your husband for saying the Prequels are better.”

Roland smiled at the mention of that long debate the two similar men had during their mini Thanksgiving get-together. Eddie had decided the time had come to share his fondness of the movies with his older friends. Jake had gotten a real kick out of watching them go back-and-forth for nearly two hours. “If it were up to me, I’d let you.” He rolled his lips together to taste some more chocolate as he set down the mug. “You know I thought those movies were kind of...cool.”

Eddie chuckled. “You were a real riot, Roland. Something to say about every scene.”

“I just like the idea of...a spiritual force binding us together.” His eyes seemed to gloss over. “One that directs us...has a will of it’s own.” He clinked their mugs together before turning around to join his husband and Susannah.

Eddie pursed his lips together. “I just like the lightsaber fights but whatever.”

“Come on, Eddie! We’re watching ‘A Christmas Story!’“ Susannah called.

“Can’t we watch a Christmas movie that isn’t overplayed like...‘Home Alone’ or ‘Scrooged’!” He pretended to pout. “Oooh or ‘Gremlins’!” He bounced on his slippery socks as he plopped right next to Roland.

“Since when is Home Alone not overplayed?” Susannah rolled her eyes fondly. Delicate flakes of snow continued to fall and press against the glass of the window behind her head.

“And we can’t watch Gremlins, it scares Roland!” Cuthbert smirked and was immediately rewarding with a hard kick to the ankle. The attempt to hush him did not even phase him. Eddie burst into hysterical laughter.

Susannah even fell victim to the giggles, leaning over the arm of her chair to try and conceal it.

“He’s lying. It doesn’t scare me.” Roland thumped his husband on the arm and leaned back on the couch, ignoring his husband mocking him. “Ask Jake.” Cuthbert pretended to nod in agreement but sipped his eggnog suspiciously.

: : : : : : : : :

Jake gulped down his hot chocolate without considering that Benny might be staring at him. Father Callahan went on to his own table with a peppermint tea to finish sorting through his gifts. They could still hear the shuffling of gift wrap and bags upon bags.

“Jake?”

The boy finally set down his drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. The foamy residue was erased in a half-second. Benny had to fight away the thought of tasting that chocolate. Deep down there was a part of himself sparring against the naivety which he’d lived with for years. “Should we wait to walk over with Father Callahan?”

Jake paused, noticing the tonal shift within his friend. “We could...” He glanced over at the man before going back to Benny with a gentle grin. “But we don’t have to. He could just meet us all there.”

Benny tried not to look too pleased with that answer but found it hard to stop his shy smile as he hid it behind his cup. He watched as Jake went over to say his goodbye to his old friend with nerves building up.

“We’re good to go.” He threw away the empty cups and grabbed for Benny’s wrist, pulling him out of the Dunkin’ with something like excitement. The touch burned pleasantly at the boy’s skin with hot intensity. For a ridiculous moment, Benny worried Jake might catch the way his pulse was thundering and drop him from his grasp with disgust. He didn’t dare to look at the Father as they darted out.

Together, they walked a little over a block before either of them spoke again. Benny kept his heart to a calm flutter and thought briefly of the Christmas song Jake was crazy for...‘The moon and stars seem awful cold and bright Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right...’

The snow was at that point, a thin blanket coating the wet ground. It would soon be the same kind of dangerous ice that his Father had despised. It’d make it hard for him to drive to work, he’d complain with a shaking fist.

Abruptly, Jake turned to face him with his nose a bright color to rival Rudolph’s. He pulled softly at the end of Benny’s sleeve, truly making him all the more endearing. ‘My friend the world will share this special night. Because it's Christmas...’

His eyes were glowing like the festive sparkling bulbs across each house’s rooftops. If he knew of the stunning beauty it made him, Jake showed not. Instead, he just kept swaying their arms in the cold air.

“Jake?”

The boy blinked. “Sorry. I was just-” He waved his spare hand by his ear. “I wrote some stuff on your card. But I think I’d rather just say it to you...before we get to my house. If that’s ok?”

Benny raised his brows but nodded quickly. “Yeah-yes. I’m ok with that.” He smiled, kicking himself for sounding so stupid. Jake smiled, looking confident in a way that Benny couldn’t imagine for himself. His heart thumped down to his gut.

“First of all, Merry Christmas.” He chuckled, looking embarrassed for the first time in a while. He wiped his free sleeve against his cheek when hot color blossomed underneath. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Benny. I really needed a good one and you’re the best.” He swayed their hands again but did not meet Benny’s eyes. “I really like you.”

Benny couldn’t even begin to convince himself that he didn’t hear Jake’s special inflection or see the way he’d widened his eyes. “I really like you too, Jake.”

His friend blushed fiercer and let his hand fall from Benny’s sleeve to fully grab onto his hand, interlocking their grip. For a second, the boys couldn’t manage much else but giggling there in the middle of the sidewalk.

“I’ll race you home?” Jake challenged.

Benny smirked and hugged the boy’s hand tighter, their palms were a sweaty and warm relief from the bitter cold. “You’ll have to let me go.” The party seemed a weary idea now compared to their new found discovery. But as the snow continued to poor down on them, Jake seemed suddenly eager.

He hesitantly slipped his hand free and blinked up at Benny with curious eyes before launching forward and placing a surprise kiss against his cheek. He pulled back and stood for a mere second before taking off towards his house.

“That’s cheating, Chambers!” Benny called out, catching a few snowflakes on his lips before chasing after the boy.

: : : : : : : : :

Eddie was curled up against Susannah with a look of pleasant shock at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

Cuthbert lounged right onto Roland’s lap and was heavily making-out with the man in such a...relaxed state. Neither neighbor had ever seen Roland so...open or frisky before. The guy was downright playful in the way that he ran his large hand through Cuthbert’s tangled hair and knocked off his obnoxious Santa hat.

Susannah smiled for a moment before throwing the DVD case at their heads. “Quit that, will you?” She chuckled when Cuthbert tumbled onto the floor with a smile. She pretended to ignore her husbands thumbs-up directed to a now more in-character Roland, who was looking stern once again. “Your boy will be home any minute.”

Cuthbert leaned against Roland’s tall leg and grinned.

As if on cue, the front door creaked open to reveal two red-faced boys as they piled into the home, wiping their boots on the mat. “Hey guys.” Jake bounced inside, greeting Oy with rushed excitement. His friend stayed back by the doorway with a shy expression. Eddie waved, hoping to ease the kid.

“This is Benny Slightman.” Jake reached out for his friend from his place, kneeling in front of Oy, and urged him forward.

Roland shifted in the arm chair, both Eddie and Susannah noticed the uncomfortable look on his face. Eddie felt a sudden urge to go over and ask him about it. However, Cuthbert crossed the room to shake the kids hand before anyone could do anything else.

“Cuthbert, Jake’s Dad.” He grinned, the beautiful one of his. He pointed to his Husband. “That’s Roland, his other Dad. Over there are our neighbors, Susannah and Eddie Dean.”

Benny nervously shifted on his feet and nodded. Susannah smiled kindly and was close enough to offer her hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Benny. You boys want to watch ‘Home Alone two’ with us?” She asked kindly, not knowing this had immediately endeared her to the kid. Benny decided just then that he really liked her.

Jake gave Oy a final pat before stealing a glance to Roland. “Maybe we’ll join later. Benny and I are gonna go exchange gifts in my room.”

Roland seemed to consider the statement with some kind of tension hanging in the air. Nothing necessarily bad...just a bit awkward though for once in his life, Jake didn’t seem to notice anything was off. “Alright.” He took a long sip of his coffee and smiled back when Jake rewarded him with one.

The boy ushered his friend into the other room and quickly shut the door behind them.

“And what did I say?” Cuthbert asked, a smirk on his face but Roland didn’t seem too amused. He looked blankly at the closed door before excusing himself for a refill. Eddie watched Cuthbert deflate and felt a pang of sadness for him.

He got up, Susannah urging him to follow Roland, and went straight for the kitchen to chase the pacing man. “What’s up with you?” He asked, sparing his own look to Jake’s closed door.

“Nothing.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and dug his fingers into an open bag of cookies left on the counter by Cuthbert earlier. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Peppermint but the taste was actually quite nice on his hot tongue. Ignoring his friends obvious attempt to shut down the conversation, Eddie blocked the doorway. “I’m not an idiot, you know?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Eddie.” Roland corrected himself with that special classy asshole tone of his. Nothing couldn’t possibly piss Eddie off quicker than that voice.

“Just when I think we’re getting to be close, you shut me down.” He scowled and swallowed a particularly minty chunk of cookie. “I wonder how Cuthbert feels being married to someone so...”

“So what?” Roland’s wise eyes crinkled with anger.

“So guarded...so solitary.” Eddie flicked his tongue accusingly and nearly choked on the cookie crumbs lingering in his mouth. Part of him found it disgustingly strong and wanted to spit up the remnants into the silver sink. But he held that back in favor of appearing non-idiotic.

Roland huffed and blew past his skinnier friend and treaded his way back to the lounge seat.

“Oh no, Don’t waltz back in here if you’re all worked up.” Susannah’s voice came from a ways off, making Eddie smile despite the annoyance flaring up inside him. He could always count on his wife.

Eddie followed in shortly after and plopped down next to Cuthbert who was looking just as irritated when he leaned over to whisper; “Suzy thinks Roland has some internalized homophobia to work-out.”

Eddie raised a brow. “The dude is married to a man, how can he be homophobic?” He asked, feeling that dreaded idiotic feeling again.

Taking another invisible cue, the doorbell rang and was used as Roland’s next distraction.

Father Don Callahan & a handsome friend entered behind a small pile of Christmas printed bags.

: : : : : : : : :

Benny ran his hand through his hair, feeling through the soft curls. He found that he did that more and more, especially when he was nervous. The heat from just his nerves alone was getting close to unbearable. He shed his larger coat (finally) and placed it awkwardly in his lap.

Though, Jake simply reached out to swipe it and threw it across his bed (blue sheets) with a smile thick with teeth. “Merry Christmas, Benny.” He placed a delicate present (silver wrapping) between their criss-crossed legs.

His hands shook but his smile never faltered because Jake was just about the cutest Benny had ever seen him. He watched nervously as he playfully shook the gift.

Unwrapping slowly, bending the paper under his curled fingers and enjoying that attention…was NOT of his nature. Not at all. Benny tore open the gift with anxiety pouring out of him like sweat.

Laying atop a bed of fluff was one of those spinner rings he’d talked about just a couple weeks ago. It stared up at him, shining into his eyes.

“You said you wanted to try one of them to help with your fidgeting.” Jake grinned before scooting closer to pick it from the bed and hold it out for his friend. Benny slowly slid his ring finger into the cold silver with a warm blush taking over his cheeks.

“I got one with paw prints on it...cause you only like me for my dog, you know?” He chuckled, backing off slightly to watch Benny’s reaction.

“Rad.” A horrible word really. But it was just the one to pop into his mind like a dumb old jack-in-the-box. Benny cringed but quickly laughed it off. “I mean, Thanks, Jake. I love it. Thank you!” He spun the metal and watched the prints blur. “Your turn, now!” He reached into his own bag and handed over a medium sized green box. The red ribbon glittered under the light.

The boys had gone for the same theme, it seemed. Jake pulled free a silver ornament in perfect likeness to Oy by it’s velvety red loop. Though Benny felt a renewed sense of inferiority as he spun his ring, Jake’s eyes light up. He cradled his hands under the ornament with that shy smile of his.

“It’s lame, I know, to get someone an ornament for Christmas...” Benny frowned. “Your gift-”

"It's not a competition, Benny. Besides..." Jake turned back to look at the ornament that was now laying in the tissue paper. "I love it, you know me so well." He chuckled before biting into his cheek and turning slightly, to face Benny fully. He opened his mouth to say something but Benny was quicker to voice his own thought.

“Do you want to go back to watch the movie...?” He gestured to the door.

“Do you?” Jake countered.

No. He did not. Benny really wanted to keep their illusion of privacy up for just a little longer. His heart was doing flips in his chest just at the thought of it. “No...” He giggled. “But I get the sense that you’ll be missed, Jake.”

The boy shrugged. “Ok. We’ll go watch.” They set their gifts onto Jake’s nightstand and went for the door but before either of their hands could curl around the gold, Jake leaned over and gently kissed Benny’s cheek.

It was quick and devastatingly soft. But very, very important to both of them.

: : : : : : : : :

The two boys ended up on the couch with a blanket tossed over them by Cuthbert, only one so of course they had to squish together or else one of them would be too cold.

Jake had somehow found himself with Benny’s sleeping head resting on his shoulder by the second movie. Not that he minded it at all. Benny had a candy cane hanging out of the side of his mouth that he occasionally twirled around. But was now slipping from the corner of his lips.

Roland watched Jake, who was watching Benny, with a feeling of...discomfort(?) that even he didn’t understand.

“Please free that cane before it goes down the kids throat, Jake.” Susannah chuckled. The boy chuckled and when he slipped the red & white candy out, Benny shook himself awake.

“Sorry.”

“S’fine.” Jake grinned and let his gaze linger. Benny looked around for that Father Callahan, who’d been in the kitchen when he fell asleep, and found him basically curled up with that friend he’d brought; Lupe.

Benny widened his eyes. “Is he gay?” He snapped his head over to whisper to Jake, who’d started to cackle.

“Yeah, he is.” He wiped his sleeve across his mouth to settle down. “We’re you worried he was...homophobic?” His brow raised as he remembered how off his friend became in that Dunkin’ when ol’ Father Don Callahan came over.

“Yes!”

The boys dissolved into a privately shared laugh as Oy jumped onto the couch next to them.

Cuthbert plopped down into Roland’s lap and gently ran his fingers down his shoulder as they just watched their son. “Are you alright?”

Roland nodded, pulling his eyes away and towards his handsome husband who was cuddling down next to him despite the limited seat room. It would be annoying if it were anyone else on earth but for Cuthbert, Roland loved like Cupid.

He kissed the top of his head and hid behind it slightly as the intro to ‘Gremlins’ played on their small TV. “I hate you.” He mumbled into Cuthbert’s hair.

He hummed. “I love you too.” He leaned back and kissed Roland’s jaw. “Merry Christmas.”

Outside, the snow had slowed considerably but the ground was not visible under the thick blanket given from the sky.

#used an actual jake quote when he was talking about what he likes in Benny #his openness and appetite for fun etc..#The Dark Tower #my fanfiction #jake chambers #benny slightman #roland deschain #cuthbert allgood #eddie dean #susannah dean #stephen king #holiday fics

19 notes · View notes

izzy-b-hands · 5 years ago

Text

Every Road Leads to an End, Pt. 1

Y’all had to know this was coming at some point lol. My first Kingsman fic, this one in particular set Post-Golden Circle. I’ve got a lot more planned, for this time period plus during each movie and in between, but for now, I think this is a good start.

A forewarning that I’m taking canon and making it what I want, because while I love the movies dearly, there’s also a good number of things I’d have maybe done differently, or at least messed about with and considered changing. For one, the little pup Eggsy gets Harry in Golden Circle? He’s around again, because I wanted to know what happened to the puppy. I named him PJ, for Pickle, JR (after dear Mr. Pickle.)

So, here that is!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“You texted me, and I quote, ‘Major emergency, come quickly.’ This-”

“Is an emergency,” Harry finished.

Eggsy stared down at PJ, who was wagging his tiny tail happily. “This is dog-sitting. I thought there was a mission, and I’m only supposed to be called back in the event of that or-.”

“There is, this!”

“Okay, and where are you off to then? If there isn’t a mission, aside from watching your dog,” Eggsy asked as he picked up PJ.

“I...have a date.”

“You have...where did you meet...I have so many questions,” Eggsy said.

“And they will have to wait; I am already late. Thank you for arriving so promptly, instructions are on the fridge regarding PJ’s dinner and bedtime, and I’ve left you money for your dinner,” Harry was like a bullet on track to its target, walking fast enough Eggsy could hardly keep up as he followed him to his bedroom.

“Oi! Now I get to ask at least one question before you go.”

“Fine, one. Then I need to finish dressing; I cannot find the right color pocket square I need-”

“I’ll help you find it if you answer,” Eggsy interrupted. “Where’d you meet her?”

“Him.”

“Okay, him. Where was it? I mean, you’re something of a homebody, when you aren’t working-”

“I am not,” Harry scoffed, and turned to rifle through the pile of folded pocket squares tossed on his bed. “I do things.”

“You texted me a week ago, and I quote-”

“That is quite enough of my quotes, I think.”

“You keep interrupting like that; I’ll just find more of them. Anyway, as I was saying, you said ‘lots of excitement tonight, saw a fox in the garden.’ I mean...Harry.”

“Are you going to help me find it, or not? I need the same shade of salmon as my tie, and I’ve found every other shade under the bloody sun, and I even sort these by shade, I’ll have you know, and,” Harry sighed and tossed a handful of squares back onto the bed.

“You’re nervous!”

“I have been in situations far worse than a first date; I am not made nervous by this,” Harry shook his head, and shuffled through another bunch of squares.

“You are absolutely a nervous wreck, oh my God. This is adorable! Look at your dad, PJ. I have never seen you like this.”

Harry sighed again, clearly exasperated, and turned to Eggsy.

“Put the face away, I’ll help. Now, don’t get mad, but could you just wear a different color tie, that matches one of the squares we know are here and ready to be worn?”

The kiss on the cheek wasn’t expected, but it was sweet. “Eggsy! Genius! I’ll change it straightaway, then-ooh, I’m going to be even later! I don’t have an excuse for that, we had a reservation and everything...”

“Tell him I was late showing up. I don’t mind taking the blame,” Eggsy bit back a giggle as Harry whirled past him to another drawer. “Would I know him, if I saw him?”

Harry stopped dead.

“Harry?”

He turned again, a new silk light green tie in his hand. “I can’t...I will tell you. All of it, later. I promise you that. This is also, technically, a mission. That turned into more, and if anyone else with Kingsman or Statesman found out it had, the trouble we would be in.”

“So he works for Statesman?”

“No.”

“He works for us?”

“Eggsy, please,” Harry sighed desperately as he switched ties. “Like I said, I will tell you everything, later. Once things are more...solid.”

“As in your relationship with him, or the mission?” Eggsy asked as he set down PJ, and swatted Harry’s hand away from the tie. “You’ve got it all crooked, hang on. And is the mission to...you know?”

“Eggsy!”

“Just checking! Even if it isn’t, I mean, I can spend the night here with PJ. I’m already the ‘Prince That’s Never Seen’ to the Swedish media. Won’t be any issue if I’m not home for a day or two, and I let Tilde know it might be a few days, depending on what was going on. So, you know. If things happen...let them happen. Have some fun. Safe fun, I mean, actually, do you have-”

Harry was bright red as he snatched up the matching pocket square and his coat from his bed, and strode out of the bedroom with Eggsy and PJ on his heels.

“Oh, look at him blush! PJ, your dad is gonna have a wonderful night, isn’t he?”

PJ barked in response, wiggling as Eggsy picked him up again.

“Yes, he is, and then he’s going to tell us all about it when he gets back,” Eggsy continued, even as Harry spluttered half-protests, sighing and shaking his head as he walked out the front door.

Without any shoes on.

“Give him a minute,” Eggsy told PJ, who stared up curiously at him. “He’ll realize in one, two, three, and-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Harry spat as he stomped back inside, struggling on with his shoes before heading back out, one oxford still untied.

“That’s a lad,” Eggsy smiled. “C’mon PJ. I think you deserve your dinner, and I will order mine, and then I think a movie is in order. We’ll find something with a dog in it, just for you.”

It wasn’t long before they were settled on the couch; PJ fed and a pizza box open on the coffee table, and the closest thing Eggsy could find for ‘something with dogs’ (an episode of Planet Earth) on the TV for PJ.

Then his phone buzzed with a text alert.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Advice?

Eggsy frowned at the text from Harry. Text were strictly for non-Kingsman, and non-confidential and/or coded Kingsman business. This, however, wasn’t code for anything that he knew of.

Is one of the things the guy you’re seeing? And if so, what is the other thing?

He could hear Harry’s frustration in the reply.

No! Not exactly. He invited me over, but he knows we’d both be in trouble if anyone knew about this; no one is even supposed to know he’s alive!!

That many exclamation points signaled a show of proper emotion from Harry, whatever this was, it was deeply serious to him. But it was hard to advise when he only had not even a quarter of the story. He sent back his biggest question.

Who?????!!!!!!

For about five minutes, there was nothing, and he almost set his phone back down on the coffee table. Then:

Merlin.

“Fucking hell,” Eggsy murmured. “And how in the hell? There’s no way...somebody has to be fucking with him, which means who knows what he’s gotten himself into now.”

He sighed, and bemoaned that he had left his luggage at his hotel, rather than bringing it with. There wouldn’t be enough time to get it, change into a suit, and try and configure Harry’s location so he could get there.

Unless.

He hadn’t ever actually spent a night in Harry’s guest room, but Harry had always assured him it was supplied for him, should he and Tilde ever need a place to stay. Searching it proved just that: three suits with varying colors of ties and other accouterments for him, and three matching dresses and pants suits for Tilde, plus three tiny matching jackets that would have fit JB.

“PJ, you hold down the fort, yeah? You’re a big boy now, I think I can trust you,” Eggsy said as he finished putting in his cuff links and pulled on his jacket, watching as PJ settled down on the couch with a sigh, his grey wiry fir blending into the dark material. “I’m gonna go make sure your dad makes it home, and when we get back, we’ll have that leftover pizza. I’ll make sure he lets you have a little, promise.”

From there, he was on his own. His watch and glasses let him track Harry somewhat, but wherever he was, he was on the move. With whoever this impostor Merlin was, surely, and that was who he really wanted to track. But even if this Merlin was using any Kingsman or Statesman tech, he wasn’t registering on any of Eggsy’s gear.

He got as close as an Italian restaurant, dropped off by a non-Kingsman cab, if only so as not to arouse Harry or the faux-Merlin’s suspicions if they were near enough to see it. There, outside of it, the dot representing Harry had stopped. Or so it seemed to have, finally, though at no point had the dot gone into the restaurant, leaving him wondering where on earth the actual dinner had been, and why on earth Harry was stumbling around in the dark with the faux-Merlin.

There were a few dark alleyways just near the restaurant. A small chance to be sure, too easy if anything. But as he wandered down the first, the blip of Harry’s dot on the map superimposed over his glasses got louder and louder and-

“Jesus,” Eggsy ducked behind a bin, then peeked back out over it.

Up against a nearby wall in the alley were Harry, and what for all the world looked like Merlin, kissing hard and utterly unaware of anything else going on around them, apparently, since he hadn’t exactly been quiet as he’d ducked away.

“If I’m wrong,” Eggsy whispered to himself, then shook his head. Even if this was somehow real, Merlin had somehow survived the land mine and was safe and back, it was better to check, to interrupt and know for sure.

“Let him go,” he stood and pulled his pistol, pointing it at the possibly faux Merlin.

“I think he’d rather I didn’t,” and god it sounded like Merlin. “Harry, did you not tell him?”

“I was going to, later,” Harry hissed, and whipped around. “Put that down! What on earth are you doing?”

“Not many men could survive a land mine. Fewer still could survive it, and be repaired well enough to go into hiding afterwards. So if you really are Merlin, and if you are...know that I am sorry for all this, but I’ve got to have answers. As of right now, I have no proof you aren’t some...double, hell bent on doing God knows what with Harry-”

“Hell bent on doing something with him, that’s for sure,” Merlin murmured and giggled, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “If you’re still up for it, after we explain things and send Eggsy on home.”

Harry sighed and pushed himself away from Merlin. “Look. I-I should have just told you everything straight away. I know you, and you’re a good agent. And a good agent would have done just as you’re doing now. It’s just...I mean, this was a date!”

“Still is,” Merlin called from the wall. “This isn’t quite how I saw it going, no, and I certainly didn’t think Eggsy would be involved, but this doesn’t ruin the night or anything.”

“Oh my God,” Harry muttered, and pushed his glasses up as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Eggsy lowered his gun. “Well?”

“Tell you what,” Merlin said, striding forward. “You both come back to mine, for now. We can explain things, then Eggsy, you can go back home feeling that all is well-”

“To Harry’s, actually. I was dog sitting,” Eggsy interrupted before stowing his gun away.

“Right, back to Pickles, JR, then, knowing that all is well and Harry is safe,” Merlin continued. “And Harry, if you’d like, well...”

“I could just about die right now. And I’ve never said that about anything,” Harry sighed.

“Dramatic, outside of work, isn’t he?” Merlin snickered as he led them out of the alley and down the sidewalk. “Part of why I asked him out, you know. Nice to get to see the man under the agent again. Don’t get me wrong, I love the agent, but I liked the man first.”

“Makes sense,” Eggsy replied, giggling as Harry blushed ever more red, trailing just behind them. “So, did you two ever...before this, I mean?”

“That’s a lot of old history to be getting into,” Merlin smiled. “Maybe a bit too much for tonight, but later on, perhaps-”

“Oh my God,” Harry muttered again.

“Think I should take the overuse of that phrase as a good sign for later?” Merlin asked with a positively wicked grin.

“MERLIN!”

Eggsy and Merlin fell against each other in a fit of laughter as Harry sighed deeply yet again.

He calmed once they were in Merlin’s house though, his coat off and tossed onto the couch as if he lived there, and Eggsy half-wondered as they settled onto it.

“So. I’ll make a long story short, so you can get back to PJ, and we can get back to...other things,” Merlin said. “I did survive the mine, but barely. And I very nearly didn’t survive the jungle, because my tracker didn’t click on again to let Ginger Ale know I was still kicking until you all had already left.”

“How the hell did you survive?”

Merlin shrugged. “I shouldn’t have, Eggsy. Chalk that one up to dumb luck, perhaps. That, and Ginger Ale, or should I say now, Agent Whiskey’s fantastic medical research and work with prosthetics.”

Eggsy gestured to Merlin’s legs. “I have to admit, I was curious.”

“Amazingly built prosthetics, all thanks to Agent Whiskey. She assembled a team to get me out, get me to Kentucky, and get me healed and well again. And she would have told you and Harry both right away, but-”

“It wasn’t assured he would survive,” Harry interrupted. “And so I asked them not to say anything to you at that time. I didn’t want you to lose him twice. I figured it, rather selfishly, I admit, that it would be enough for me to lose him twice.”

“But you didn’t,” Merlin said softly, grabbing Harry’s hand. “I’m right here, not going anywhere.”

Harry only nodded, but Eggsy could see his fingers tighten around Merlin’s.

“With you still not knowing I was alive, and my continued survival not assured at that point, I was put into a sort of hiding. Kept in Kentucky, under Statesman medical care and guard. I remain under their guard now, to some degree, and not Kingsman guard because, well-” Merlin shrugged. “Kingsman is still rebuilding. We have Agent Tequila here, and Harry, and yourself as a reserve agent, but that isn’t much. And there’s concern that some of the guards I tried to take out with me are still out there, and might be looking for me.”

“Didn’t they find them all? Or all the pieces of them, I guess,” Eggsy asked.

“Enough...pieces to make up all the bodies except for two. We might have presumed they were just truly blown to smithereens, until certain messages started to arrive at various locations, specifically the rubble of the Kingsman HQ and your old home, Eggsy. Agent Whiskey was the one who suggested surveillance on those locations and a few others after I was recovered from the field, and thank goodness she did. We might never have seen them until it was too late, otherwise.”

“Too late?”

“Attacks,” Harry said. “On Statesman HQ, specifically trying to get to the medical ward. One got damned close too. No identifiable information on them, except that everything done to erase their identity was similar to what Poppy had done to her cronies. Erased fingerprints, filed down teeth, all that. But since we know Poppy is dead, that tells us nothing. And the henchman that we thought died when the land mine went off weren’t identifiable either, not even the pieces of the dead ones. So figuring out who the live ones are, if they are alive, and where they are...”

“Damn near impossible, until another attack, which hasn’t happened because you’ve been kept under guard here. And that’s why no one was supposed to know you’re alive,” Eggsy finished.

“And why this,” Harry sighed, picking up Merlin’s hand and kissing it, “is so very risky. If anything happened as a result of me, I swear-”

“I know, and I’m willing to take the risk,” Merlin interrupted. “Anyone would for someone they love. Eggsy would for Tilde, essentially does being married while being an agent, right Eggsy?”

Eggsy nodded. “Harry. You shouldn’t deny yourself this, happiness, just because of the risk. There’s always going to be something, you know? Life just isn’t that easy, that safe...especially for us. Tilde and I, we know the risk, and we both accept it to be together. If you and Merlin feel the same...why not go for it?”

The look Harry was giving Merlin gave Eggsy his out. “And, that said, I think maybe my portion of the evening is complete, and the portion with you two is uh...yeah. I’m gonna head out, go back and let PJ have the bit of pizza I promised him, and then turn in for the night, and you two aren’t even paying attention to a word I’m saying right now.”

They certainly didn’t seem to be, again concerned only with each other and kissing and the fussing about with Harry’s tie, which was plenty for Eggsy to see.

“I mean good for ‘em, you know?” he told PJ as they snuggled on the couch, his suit hung back up in the guest room of Harry’s house, the pizza warmed up for a late night/early morning snack. “But...bit like watching your parents snog, you know? Like, they’re adults, consenting and all that and isn’t like that...urge disappears as you age, I just. It was time for me to not see anymore. You get it, right, PJ?”

PJ whimpered, and snuggled in closer. He was laid out on Eggsy’s chest, and very nearly had his cold nose poking Eggsy’s chin as he moved closer and closer.

“Aw. You just miss your dad, don’t you? Well, never fear, he’ll be home in the morning. Er, later morning, considering the time. Dads have to have their fun too, and in the meantime you’ve got me!”

Eggsy flicked off the TV and closed his eyes, listening to PJ’s soft breathing as he finally fell asleep.

And then his watch buzzed on his wrist.

He carefully moved his arm, to not disturb PJ, and looked at the alert.

ALL KINGSMAN AND STATESMAN AGENTS, REPORT TO NEAREST HQ LOCATION IMMEDIATELY. AGENT COMPROMISATION HAS OCCURRED.

#text post #LeeH writes #kingsman fic #harry hart x merlin #not sure what else to tag rn #so lemme know if y'all want others added!#I'll figure out the tagging as I write the next part of this and the other fics I have in mind lol #eggsy is here too of course #like there's gonna be multiple plot threads of Harry and Merlin and stuff with Eggsy going on plus major Spy Problems #so I'll add tags in as we add in more threads lol

2 notes · View notes

hellolittleogre · 5 years ago

Text

Dusting off the archives

Since I like a lot of other fanfic writers are spending this time aggressively staring at different WIPs and NOT WRITING I thought I would dust off various WIPs which have stalled through the years. These are to a large extent morgue files, they will probably never be finished fic. I thought I’d share what I have written, plus synopsis or outline if I have it. I feel like they are like rings in the core of a glacier and different trends and tropes can be read in them. Some of them are also incredibly embarrassing.

Under the Cut: Avengers kid fic

Fandom: The Avengers

Paring: Clint Barton/ Phil Coulson

Working Title: Uhhhhh.....Superspy Daddies (not brilliant I admit)

Year written: 2012 (god help us all)

Synopsis: Clint meets Tasha when she ‘s a wee spy child and decides to adopt her. After a few years on the run they are caught up by SHIELD and recruited. There is something mysterious going on and they are assigned an alias as a family, with two dads and Natasha. Enter spy shenanigans and fake marriage and falling in love. Yay! Everything is safe and nothing hurts.

Natasha was seven when she met Clint. She can still remember the impact when she hit him, how she had launched herself into his body and sent them both tumbling. They had ended up on the floor. Natasha with her knife to his throat and Clint with an arrow in his hand the point just pressing against her ribs.

It should have been easy, a clean-cut job of getting into the house, making the target and getting out again but something had been wrong, men positioned in places they shouldn’t and suddenly hostiles everywhere and a blond man with a bow taking out people with unerring accuracy.

She remembers the surprise in his face, how open it was.

“But you are just a child,” he had said in astonished and slightly accented Russian. It made her want to smile because she hadn’t been a child for a long time now.

“I am Black Widow,” she said simply, when she had planned to say nothing at all. The man stared at her.

“Ok, so, I’m going to lower my hand now, nice and easy, like this yeah?” The arrow was slowly removed from her ribs. “We have about ten minutes before my backup gets here so listen. You can kill me and go on doing what you are doing or I can get you out of here, somewhere safe and you can either come with me or go your way, but you don’t have to do this anymore.”

He is, possibly, the first person she can remember who has offered her something without asking anything of her. The idea intrigued her, that somebody could do something for you without wanting anything in return, that there could be actions without purpose or gain.

“You are not a pervert, are you?” She knows about those, they are easy, all soft words and soft hands right up to the point where they are not but then usually it is already too late. He actually laughed at that, a soft huff of air as if she had said something honestly funny.

“No, no perverts here m’am. Nobody but us chickens.” She does not understand that, it had been nobody but them and maybe a handful of dead men, no chickens at all. She frowns at him.

He sighed. “I’m Clint.”

She thought about it, the sharp edge of her knife resting against his throat, but. He has offered to do something for her without asking anything in return. He could have killed her but he didn’t. And he doesn’t want her to kill anyone, he doesn’t seem to want her to do anything. Maybe she can trust him.

“I’m Black Widow,” she says again. She doesn’t have to trust him much, or for long.

In the end they had gotten out through the air ducts. Crawled out a couple of yards behind the perimeter and Clint had then calmly walked her through the tail end of the increasingly panicked ranks of the mission, even snagging his own jacket and bow case from the back of a van. He had draped the jacked around her shoulders and pushed her lightly in the back. “Just keep your head down and walk, nice and easy.”

Natasha had to admire the audacity of it, she is not sure anymore but she believes at one point he even nodded to somebody he knew before getting her into the night. Quietly slipping away.

They go through Europe first, down through Ukraine and Romania to Serbia, Croatia and finally Italy. Clint makes Natasha cut her hair in the bathroom of a gas station. Says that maybe a man and a young boy might draw less attention. Hands her the scissors with an: I ain’t going to touch you, kiddo and closes the door. Her hair is now short and jagged and fiery red and she likes it. It takes her three months before she finally tells Clint her name is actually Natalia Romanova and he grins at her, delighted. “I’m Hawkeye,” he says.

Slowly as Natalia learns to trust him she tells Clint about the Red Room. She has a hard time remembering anything before that but she remembers training, learning and the experiments.

They had been together for nearly a month when Clint accidentally cuts himself. Its straight across his palm and deep and painful as fuck. Clint tries to stem the blood flow with a shirt and cursing under his breath. Natasha is strangely unperturbed, as if she can’t understand why he is making a fuss.

“Its not so bad, you just put band aid on it and it’s gone in the morning,” she says, shrugging her shoulders. Clint takes it that she meant, it will be gone in a sort of, it will still be there but at least it wont bother you fashion. As it turns out she means it quite literally.

The next night as they make camp she gives his bandage a suspicious look but says nothing. Clint is cleaning the wound with some water heated on the fire, it stings like a bitch but looks like it will heal nicely, looking up he sees Natasha across the fire, her face is white and her eyes are like saucers. Then she is by his side, prodding and poking at his hand with ungentle fingers.

“You are still hurt, why are you still hurt, why hasn’t it healed? Are you ill, what is wrong with you?” She is as animated as he has ever seen her, shaken up and honestly confused and terrified. It takes a while to calm her down to explain that when ordinary people get hurt it takes weeks and weeks for them to heal, and this is normal and it doesn’t mean that Clint is sick or dying. It is perhaps the first time Natasha lets on that she really cares. It is also the point when Clint realises how truly different she is, and the extent of those experiments. She takes out his knife and makes a shallow cut across the back of her hand and lets him watch as it fades into pink nothingness in a couple of hours.

In Croatia, Dubrovnik, Clint takes her to the beach, all blue water and fishing boats bobbing on the waves. It's the first time she has seen the sea. The water is so clear you can make out all the little fishes darting after each other along the shallows. After only half a day in the sun her skin was so burnt her back broke out in blisters and the heatstroke made her throw up on the bus back to the room they’re renting. Clint pets her hair and nods to the large woman across the aisle, who has been making sympathetic noises and has given them a plastic bag.

“Red hair, can’t stand the sun, any of them. Her mother was just the same, God rest her soul, always so sensitive.” The woman clucks in distress and finds a cough sweet in the horrifying depths of her handbag. Natalia swears she can still feel the taste of it in her nose even after she has thrown up twice.

All she could do was lie on her stomach in their tiny room with an ice clamp wrapped in a wet towel on her back. She doesn’t cry in pain but she considers it, the possibility. There would be nobody here to punish her for it now. Cling gave her purple and yellow ice lollies, the first she’s ever had, until her mouth was skinned and raw from them. She peels afterwards and sits in the bathroom and gets Clint to peel strips of skin off her back showing her the longest ones.

“This is so gross,” he tells her after he’s managed to peel a strip of skin all the way from her shoulder down to the small of her back. The new skin underneath the flaking was pink and tender and dotted with tiny freckles. It’s the closest to fun she has had in years.

Clint has never taken care of anyone in his life, not himself and much less anyone else. Things such as regular meals, bedtimes and food which is not pizza is pretty much new and foreign country to him. It took him about a year to figure out that Natalia needed to go to school, because he could teach her English just fine (except maybe not words like corium and discombobulate) and some maths, as long as it had to do with geometry and seriously, he has been briefed on so many cities that they are probably good for geography for a while, but the rest of it? He has no idea.

They stayed in Naples for six months, long enough for Clint to work out a way to get into the US and for Natalia to lose her accented English and learn a quite impressive smattering of Italian. Then, they are found. The same car stands parked on their street three days in a row, inconspicuously nestled under a great chestnut tree and Clint calmly tells Natasha to grab the overnight bag in the hall and they walk past is slowly and calmly, looking straight ahead like they were just heading for the park to enjoy the afternoon sunshine. The agents are Russian and in the end it turns ugly, they barely get away and leave corpses on their trail. They get on a plane to America a month ahead of schedule and it is a far too narrow escape. It’s only after this, after their narrow escape to relative safety that Natalia begins to have nightmares.

“Clint?”

“Yeah”

“Can you tell me a story?”

This is the third time the same night Natasha has woken from nightmares and Clint has resigned to sleeping on the floor by her bed instead of going back to his own. He has a lumpy pillow wedged under his head (in fact, he suspects it to be Natasha’s stuffed bear, Phillipov).

“A story, what about?”

There is a silence; it is long enough that he would have suspected that she had dropped off but for her calculated breathing. She is thinking about something, not sure how to phrase it.

“Angela has stories,” she says at last. Angela is Tasha’s friend from school, one of the few she has made. “I mean, her mom tells her stories about her, when she was little, what she said, when she was bad, you know. Could you, could you tell a story about me? When I was little?”

And Clint opens his mouth to say he can’t do that, he never knew her when she was little and lived in a facility where they trained her and filled her blood with god only knows what and then realises that’s not the point. Natasha knows this, but she wants a story. Not a lie, a story, about herself, when she was little, what she might have done. Clint exhales deeply and tries to think.

“Do you remember when we lived in Italy, in Naples? In that tiny apartment and your roll out bed? Well, a couple of years before that we lived for a while in Rome, but you were so little, only four, you can’t possibly remember. We lived, you and me then, in this small apartment outside of Rome. The kitchen was tiny, but it had this huge fridge-freezer unit, this monster from the fifties in avocado green with a door thick like the safe to a bank vault and the freezer on top of it. It was like a fridge for a large Italian family with a grandma and a fat uncle with a moustache and not just for the two of us. Now it was summer and that apartment was always hot and you wanted gelato but I wouldn’t give you any because it was just before dinner and you couldn’t reach the freezer by yourself. So you had this trick of wedging a kitchen chair against the fridge, on its back legs and then climb up onto the back of the chair so you could open the freezer.”

Clint could actually see it before him, this small, determined version of Natasha, dragging the chair across the room and her bare feet soft against the linoleum floor.

“It used to make me so mad, y’know. You could fall down and split your skull, knock your teeth out, anything. And I caught you this one time, balanced on the chair with your head in the freezer and I got so mad and I yelled at you, and I said: You are driving me nuts, you’ve got to stop doing this. Do you want me to go crazy?”

And you said, without even looking away from the ice cream box: I don’t want you to go crazy. I want ice cream.”

There is silence and then Natasha laughs, it’s just a puff of amusement, there and gone again but its genuine. After a while he reaches up a hand and feels Nat stick her little paw in his. It is soft and slightly sticky, squeezing around his for a moment before she settles down.

“That’s a good story,” she says sleepily and after a while she falls asleep. Clint is not so lucky but at least there are no more nightmares for tonight. After this she wants a lot of them, Clint tells her about fishing trips, about that time in the Natural History Museum when she thought she was lost in the room with all the gorillas, when Clint was standing right next to her all the time.

Clint sweats the whole ten hour flight to America. Tasha curls up in her seat and pretends to sleep the whole way, the air hostess giving her a colouring book and nearly subconsciously petting her hair. There is just something about the short curls that people seem helpless to resist.

In the end it is only bad luck that Shield found them. A lot of bad luck at the same time but only chance in the end. Anyway that’s what Clint claims, Agent Coulson maintains that luck had nothing to do with it and it was the result of several years of hard work on his part and if anything it was lucky that Shield found them first and not the Russians.

They have been living in the US for years now, slowly drifting across the north and the mid west, Clint picking up work where he can find it. They always have emergency bags packed but it was a while since they’ve had to use them.

It was nearly five years since Clint found Natasha, or she found him, four years of Clint jumping from job to job and Nat from school to school but lately the time between moves become longer and longer. Clint had a job he actually likes, working as a bit of everything in a school for deaf kids. Natasha has friends to sit with her at the lunch table, has started playing soccer, and it turns out she is menace on the grass. They feel safe, five years have gone by and nothing has been seen or heard and maybe it has made them complacent. Maybe its just nice to belong somewhere. Tasha has friends on her soccer team and comes home grass stained and happy. She’s hit a growth spurt and reminds Clint of a foal with long gangly limbs.

It starts with a parent teacher visit, just a stupid mistake. It's Tasha’s homeroom teacher who gives Clint a considering look and remarks that he looks a bit young to have a daughter her age. And that’s all it takes to get the ball rolling, somebody looking just a little extra at the adoption papers and suddenly there is a social worker outside the door. Clint and Tasha are professional liars and it comes to nothing in the end but the notice is already logged into the system, leaving a minute paper trail for people who know where to look. And then Clint had gotten ill with the flu, enough to just not pay attention the nondescript car parked on their street for two days in a row. They are unprepared for it when Clint, kept awake by coughing, spots the stealthy movement on the street and there is no time, no time for anything other than getting out. The rain is pouring down and Tasha is still in her pyjamas, shoes held in one hand. As it turns out the location of their backup storage is compromised and Clint barely makes it out with one bag, containing a change for Natasha and barely enough cash to make it out of town. They don’t try to go to the second one, where Clint’s bow and arrows are stored. It hurts, that bow is as much a part of Clint as his arm, but if it is undetected they can come back for it and if it has been found it is not worth trying to get it back. They make their way north on foot and hitchhike, avoiding gas stations and bus stops, suddenly nothing feels safe anymore, everywhere is strange and threatening. Clint’s flu had gotten worse and developed into a deep rattling cough that won’t let go and claws at his chest with dull teeth. There was no time to rest and the constant chill of their travel had made it into pneumonia.

They end up in a motel, where everything within the range of the little electric heater is stuffy and fever-hot and everything outside of it cold and damp. Clint lies propped up on the two slim pillows, Natasha is sitting at the foot of the bed, cleaning out her gear, her face cool and efficient. They both know Clint can’t go much further without rest and proper care, they both know they can't turn to a hospital and there is not enough money for any under the table dealings, even if they had the contacts in this part of the country.

It's only logical that she should go on alone, she has a much better chance to get away. How she is going to make it in the long run neither of them mentions.

“You have a quarter?” she asks “I just wanted something from the vending machine.”

Clint nods towards his bags and when she comes back she packs everything in her bag neatly, all her gear cleaned, three knives on her, one in her sleeve, one in her shoe and one at the small of her back. She puts the blankets over Clint. Go to sleep, she tells him. When he wakes up Tasha is curled up next to him and Shield breaks down the door.

They are being debriefed by Hill and Coulson, and a team of junior agents, even Fury is there, scowling behind the eye patch. Howard and Tony Stark is their target, it is just a scouting mission, there has been some untoward suspected HYDRA activity in Stark Industries.

The pale manila folder lands with a dull sound in front of Clint. It contains, in addition to information on the targets, the cover stories for the job. Natasha squints down at the pages.

“I will be Clint’s adopted daughter and we are living with his brother, my uncle Phil?” Coulson, first name Agent, inclines his head slightly.

“We felt it was best your handler was with you on site,” he says mildly.

Natasha gives him a slanted eyebrow of disbelief and snorts into her folder “yah, because a grown single man living with his brother and a young girl is not weird, at all,” she says in Russian and rolls her eyes at Clint. He tries not to laugh and hopes not too many at the table can understand. Judging by the twitch in Fury’s eye, he should be so lucky.

Just before the elevator closes Hill shows up and smacks a new folder into his chest.

“Your updated covers,” she explains, “ as I understood there were complaints about the last ones.” She gives Nat a nasty look. Clint opens the folder and starts scanning the content. There are papers, degrees even, official adoption papers and also…

“Hang on, we are married now? How is that better??”

They arrived back at the house at five in the morning, Clint practically carrying a half asleep Natasha and Phil felt so tired as if he was moving through molasses. He managed to change his clothes and brush his teeth before sitting down on the sofa and completely running out of energy. Mechanically turning on the tv and finding antiques roadshow on and just sitting there with the flickering light over him.

After a while Barton came down and slumped beside him, head leaning back and his eyes closed.

“She’s brushed her teeth and she’s in bed now, I think actually asleep. I hope to hell there will be no nightmares because I don’t know if I have the energy to even get out of this couch.”

“I’ll get it,”Phil says even though he feels like his spine has been boiled to the consistency of a wet noodle and all he wants to do is sleep for a week. Clint makes an exhausted noise beside him and slumps back against the couch, after a little while his head tips over onto Phil’s shoulder. He can feel the soft hair against his jaw and neck. Clint’s breath skates moist and warm over his neck and collarbone. It’s the best thing he has felt in ages and parts of him wishes he really could lean over and cover Clint’s mouth with his own and pull him close. Instead he leans back, promising himself it will only be for a second and then he promptly falls asleep.

Clint wakes up with the most awful crick in the neck. He is still on the sofa, squashed onto his side and his face plastered to Phil’s shoulder. He might even have drooled a bit on his t-shirt. At some point during the night they had managed to wedge themselves into the sofa, Phil mostly on his back and Clint, well, mostly on top of him. He tries to move his legs and find them stuck under something. Something turns out to be Nattie, curled up like a ball at the end of the sofa and her head pillowed on what might be Phil’s hip. Everything hurts like a motherfucker. Its not the discomfort that’s woken him though, it was the soft sound of the front door. Peeling his face slowly from Phil’s shoulder he raises his head to find Steve, Tony and Pepper awkwardly standing in the doorway staring at their slightly inappropriate family re-enactment of the Gordian Knot.

“Sorry Mr C,” Pepper says “the door was open.”

He really, really hopes he had the sense to take off the leather suit before he fell asleep last night.

#writing #morgue files #lets celebrate all the dead ends #the avengers #black widow #clint Barton/ Phil coulson #the dialogue is not good you guys #first installment #cleaning up my google docs

1 note · View note

aliceslantern · 5 years ago

Text

Beyond This Existence: Counterpoint, chapter 16

Summary: After being recompleted, Ienzo vows to do everything in his power to atone for the atrocities he committed in the past. But this life hasn't been easy, and he's plagued with memories and nightmares. When Demyx suddenly reappears, the two discover that they have more in common than they thought, though the secrets in their past might tear them apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post kh3

Read it on FF.net/ on AO3

---

The air was so dreadfully cold.

Ienzo looked down at his trembling palms. The light had a strange, bluish quality to it. He could see his breath.

He was not in his room, or anywhere in the castle he could recognize. The ground beneath him was dry, and grassy. The nighttime sky held no stars. He tried to sit up, but his body was so heavy, so unwieldy. He was so unbelievably tired. Near his face, an illumina plant was dying, its pale violet light choked by browning petals.

Ienzo pushed himself up. His head throbbed.

Back inside of his own mind.

He stood, but a wave of weakness forced him back down on his knees. He reached for the lexicon, seeking desperately whatever scant guidance he might receive, but there was nothing. An eerie, windless silence.

He was so tired.

Ienzo took a few deep breaths and tried to shake the exhaustion. Inch by inch, he stood and was able to remain on his feet, though vertigo flooded him.

“Easy,” said a voice. Ienzo’s heart ached.

He looked up and saw Demyx. “What…” He croaked. “No, you’re supposed to be out there.”

He looked a bit sheepish. “I--well, he, is.”

Ienzo exhaled. “You’re an illusion.”

“Kind of. It’s complicated.”

“I don’t have the energy for this,” Ienzo said. “He’s alright?”

Not-Demyx shrugged. “I think. I only know what you know.” The illusion offered a hand. Ienzo took it.

“Things are quite bad, aren’t they,” Ienzo whispered.

“Uh… yeah,” he said nervously. “Yeah, I’m sort of here to deliver a message. I could be someone else, if that makes you more comfortable. I figured he’d be the most comforting.”

“You’re my will?”

“Like I said. It’s complicated.”

Ienzo swallowed. He felt a lump rising painfully in his throat. “What is the message?”

The will sighed. Uncanny, how down-pat it had Demyx’s mannerisms; then again, it was drawing from his own observations. “You’re… dying,” he said. “Right now, in this moment. You wore me down to nothing. All that pain. We always pushed ourself too hard, but we never saw consequences. Well, here’s the consequence. You’ve got a choice to make.”

“Choice?”

“You can wake up. Or you can go on.”

"What is the price?"

The will bit its lip. "You have to come to terms with your past. Fully. You have to let go of the guilt."

"How is that a price? That's something I've tried to surmount since I woke."

The will took his hands. They were warm. "You have to let go of the pain you've taken. Listen to them. Humanize them. You carry the memory even now. Considering how weak you made me, holding onto it is too much.”

“I’m so very tired.” Even in this place things seemed hazy and insubstantial. “I do want to live. I need to live.”

The will touched his face. “Then it’s time to go to sleep.”

There was no transition. He blinked and all of a sudden he was in the basement. It was still new, still undestroyed. The air smelled fresh, utterly devoid of the darkness that would take over.

There was nothing here.

He walked slowly through the space, tracing his fingers over the numberplates. In the early days the cells looked less like prisons, more like merely an uncomfortable place to stay; beds made neatly with patterned blankets, modesty screens in front of the toilets, even small vases of flowers. The subjects would only stay overnight, if at all.

He took a small step into the room. His body felt so dreadfully heavy, so very weak. Each step exhausted him. He sat on the small, hard bed and crossed his arms tightly. How much more deeply into sleep could Ienzo go? He let himself lay down and imagined how it might feel for the door to close. Eventually, they’d replaced the pocket doors with steel ones as the situation devolved.

It made a strange sort of sense. In a way, he was part of the experiments, too.

He forced himself to stand and with trembling hands forced the door shut.

A prison of symbolism.

The act so exhausted him that he sat right on the floor, his head rolling against the mattress. Memory breathed all around him. Mother reading him a bedtime story, smelling like rose and powder, then her astonishment when he took the book from her and started reading it back. Words and numbers always made sense, had been clear from the first day somebody had read to him. As a toddler, he’d sneak out of bed into the study to read their grown-up texts, delicious works about sociology and botany, history and literature, everything soaking into his mind effortlessly. It was a new hunger, a lovely one.

But while this came effortlessly, there were other things that did not. Crowds overwhelmed him, as did certain textures or smells, all of his senses so sharp . They’d taken him to healers, doctors to manage this stress, but there was not much to be done. It was his nature.

Their death worsened things. The moments were strange and cauterized. He was in a bed in a large room, bandages pulled itchily across his torso.

“...I’ve looked. There’s no other family.”

“I’ve given it some thought. His parents wished to be apprentices. I think they would consider it a great comfort if we were to educate the boy.”

“Master, I implore you to reconsider. This is not a place for a child. How can we possibly provide the sort of nurturing environment a boy that young needs? He’ll need counseling, surely, as well as the opportunity to make friends--”

“Even, you sensed it too. That boy--Ienzo--he is special. He’ll have different needs, more expansive needs, than the average child. I feel he is capable of tremendous good.”

The words swam around him. The room around him started to decay, to rot, the flowers and patterns replaced with stiff wool and blankness. The air grew smoky. He could feel a weight in his chest, solid and aching, and he shivered.

More voices.

“...What risk does such darkness pose to us? So long as we keep it contained. They’ve consented. We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Ordinarily I would agree, Even. But the townspeople are starting to ask Aeleus and I questions. Apparently at night… they can hear screaming.”

“Hogwash.”

Against the thin walls of Ienzo’s memory, the shrieks battered. Voices of all genders, all ages. Asking for help. Asking for their mothers. Cursing them. Laughing mad.

“Look at what it does to the cells! It’s a perfect transmutation. An alchemy.”

“It looks hungry. Like it’s eating.”

“I suppose it does, Ienzo. That’s very apt. See how the nature changes, when balance is upended?”

“...Master said breaking the balance is unnatural.”

“...I know you miss him, Ienzo, but it’s for the best he’s gone.”

The weight was tightening. Worsening.

“Dilan, I will not stand for this. He is too young to consent.”

“We’ve treated Ienzo with respect. I think he deserves a say. It’s only fair. He is different than the average child. I think it would make the data quite fascinating.”

“I will not allow it.”

“...You’ve grown too soft for the boy.”

Nightmares; then and now.

“Even--”

“It’s alright, Ienzo. It was only a dream.”

“I can hear them. Screaming. It has to stop--”

“All right. All right.”

“We’re hurting them.”

“They’re doing this for science, Ienzo. For the greater good.”

“Make it stop!”

He could not breathe. Pain echoed and exploded in the small room. The cries, the slithering feeling of darkness.

Let go of it.

“Make it stop.”

Let go.

“Stop…”

It’s yours, too. You’re connected.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

There was weight in his arms. He looked down. He picked up the sleeping child slowly, so as not to wake him. Ienzo tucked him in, brushed the gray hair from his eyes. Kissed him on the forehead. “It’s alright,” he said. “You’ll wake soon.”

With a newfound lightness he opened the door, and left the room.

---

He thought he heard music.

Soft at first, it broke through his dark and quiet dreams, laying against him like a blanket. Gradually it became more complex, more complicated, soaring through long runs of notes, becoming louder and then softer again. Repeating. Endlessly. The melody was eerie and the instrument familiar but unplaceable.

Ienzo just wanted to sleep.

The music would resume, would change and shift and continue. It made him feel warm, comforted. Held.

After an unknowable amount of time, he woke. Snow fell outside in a thick sheet. The room was suffused with light, and very cold.

The sudden silence was all he could comprehend at first. Ienzo blinked. His body seemed so weighty.

“Ienzo?”

He struggled to sit up, his core complaining. Finally he managed it, propping himself on one shaky elbow.

There Demyx was. He was cradling Arpeggio, a blanket tucked around his shoulders. Something about him looked different; Ienzo could not tell if it was something peculiar about his own vision or not. No, there were very definite changes. His hair was more brown than blonde, and a touch longer, brushing his shoulder in the back. His eyes were more green than teal. That, and he simply felt more present, more real.

“Hey,” he said softly. He let Arpeggio fade. “Hey there. I’m so glad you’re awake.”

Ienzo tried to speak. His throat was dry and scratchy from disuse.

“Ah--here,” Demyx said. He went and poured a glass of water, then handed it to Ienzo. “Take it easy. Baby steps.” He checked Ienzo’s pulse, his temperature. The second-nature way he did this made Ienzo suspect that had been a lot longer than a few days.

Ienzo took a few sips. His voice was hoarse. “I heard you,” he said.

“You mean Arpeggio?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you didn’t always like to listen to me--”

“No, it was perfect.”

“I thought it might maybe help you find your way back.”

“I think it did.”

A beat of silence. Demyx couldn’t take his eyes off him. His hands were warm when he took Ienzo’s.

“It’s been a long time,” Ienzo said.

“About a month and a half. Was pretty touch-and-go for a while,” Demyx admitted. “Your EKG activity has been wild. We knew you would wake up, but it was just a question of-- well, when .”

“You’ve been taking care of me.”

“Helping,” he said. “It… makes me feel less, well, helpless.”

“You’re whole.”

“I’ve been whole.”

“It still feels as though I’m meeting you for the first time.”

He cracked a smile. “It’s been happening slowly,” he said. “My old self and my new self, it’s all sort of…” He knotted his fingers to demonstrate. “I love you. That hasn’t changed.”

“I love you as well.”

Demyx kissed him gently. At least that much felt the same. When he pulled away, his eyes were watery. “I’ve been, um, a bit of a crybaby,” he said.

“But this time it’s a happy cry.”

He nodded, patting his eyes. “I’m just hoping we can finally be together now,” he said. “‘Cause… no offense… I’m kind of sick of this crap.”

Ienzo laughed. “I hope so, Demyx. Er.”

“Demyx is still fine. I don’t really care. But if you really want to know.” He whispered the name.

Ienzo repeated it. “That’s not what I thought it would be.”

“Yeah. It was a revelation to me too at the time.”

“Surely you haven’t spent the whole six weeks here?”

He shook his head. “I still needed to, like, sleep and stuff. But actually I’ve been spending time with the others. Even and I are friends now, which is really weird.”

“I’m glad you two have found this a bonding experience.” He was only partially teasing. Adversity really did draw people together.

He looked sheepish. “He’s been asking me one thousand questions about the past. And trying to study my Keyblade. He keeps trying to touch it, but I can’t risk anyone inheriting that shit. No more kids are going to go through what I went through. This thing dies with me.”

Something vital had shifted between them. Demyx was no longer the person Ienzo had fallen in love with, but he was the person Ienzo was going to fall for again. He just knew. “I’m glad you have Arpeggio back.”

“Me too,” he said. “But it took a lot of work. A lot or work. A lot of learning bad stuff about myself.” He tapped his thumbs together. “I think I want to study healing.”

Ienzo blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean. I know it’s dumb, and I’m probably too stupid, but--”

“No. Neither it nor you are stupid. I think you’d be wonderful.”

He blushed. “I don’t want to feel helpless again. And if I can keep others from feeling that way…”

“If this is what your heart says to do, do it.”

“I’ve been talking to Aerith. She’s really nice. I was going to start training with her once you got better.” He sighed. “But in a weird way I’ve been lonely. I’ve… really missed you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be. You saved me.”

“Do you really believe you wouldn’t have woken up?”

His expression darkened. He pulled his knees to his chest. “It was dark in that water,” he said slowly. “Dark and cold. And there was so much pain I didn’t think I could stand all of it. There was this little bit of me that just said to let go. And if I did I wouldn’t have woken up.”

“You would’ve lost the will to live.”

He nodded. “And I was going to do it. I was so, so close. I didn’t know how to get free. But then I felt you drag me out of the water, and I heard your voice, and I remembered that there are good things, too. I have to make this third or fourth or whatever chance worth it. Because I’m not gonna get another one.” He paused. His face turned pink. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about stuff.”

Ienzo drew him close. It felt so good to hold him, to breathe in his scent (at least that was still the same). “If you want to heal bodies,” he said slowly, “I want to heal minds.”

Demyx pulled away. “Saving me nearly killed you.”

Ienzo shook his head. “Maybe not literally. Maybe not with magic. Maybe with… with words. It can be a work in progress.”

“That sounds… good. Who knows. We all need a bit of help.”

---

Recovery took time. Physically Ienzo was weaker than before. The simplest activities wore him out, and he was constantly exhausted. More than ever he was prone to headaches. Aerith visited to take a look at him and to speak with Demyx. Getting his power back had eroded and damaged some of his nerves, which explained the pain. She healed the damage and gave him some pills to take.

Demyx asked her a lot of questions. His inquisitiveness was new to Ienzo, and very attractive.

“I think it’ll be fun to have a student,” Aerith said. “The town keeps growing. It’ll be good to have another pair of hands.” She left behind a couple of books for him to study.

They took walks as he got stronger. Talked, sometimes. Mostly they didn’t say much of anything, and rested in silence or to the light sound of the sitar.

It became clear that they were both hurting.

Ienzo thought at first that Demyx’s newfound reservedness had something to do with the return of his memories. But as the days wore on, he started to see layers to it--the lack of life in his eyes, the way he no longer leaned into Ienzo’s touch. He didn’t eat much, took frequent naps. He didn’t play music much. Didn’t touch his new books.

“Demyx?”

He looked at Ienzo as if he were not quite there. The bitter cold of the room didn’t help much.

“Are you alright?”

A slight pause, as though the words didn’t register. “I’m fine. A little tired.”

“You seem very tired lately.”

He shrugged. “It’s the cold. Wears me out.”

Ienzo sat across from him at the table. “Are you sure it’s nothing more? You haven’t seemed yourself lately.” Ienzo took his hand.

“I’m still learning who that is,” he said softly.

“Well, then how do you feel?”

“Honestly?”

Ienzo nodded.

It seemed to take time to find the strength to speak. “Mostly--tired,” he said. “Tired, and numb. I thought I was supposed to be happy. We can finally put our lives together. And it seems like every day I feel a little weaker.”

“Because of your memories? And what you learned about yourself finding Arpeggio?”

“I… guess.” Demyx’s hand trembled and he withdrew it. “It’s just like. Why did I survive out of those thousands of wielders? And why is it that I of all people remember what happened? It feels so senseless. Couldn’t I have fought harder? Saved someone?”

“You were a child,” Ienzo said. “You were trying to stay alive.”

“And why did Xehanort choose me? I wasn’t ever the strongest and I never could collect as much lux as the others. Again and again I was his puppet. And he threw me away.”

Ienzo felt an ache in his throat and fought to keep his expression neutral. “Do you see yourself as not having worth?”

He scoffed. “As a pawn? Absolutely. But as a real person?” He shrugged.

Ienzo digested all this. “I think you’re depressed,” he said slowly.

He pursed his lips, as though he tasted something bitter. “I guess so. I am just so tired of constantly fighting.” His knuckles, curled around his elbows, were white.

“I know you are. But you’re done fighting now.”

“Not really.” He smiled dryly. “Still have to get my shit together. That’s an uphill battle.”

“Maybe I can help you,” Ienzo said. “I have studied psychology, after all.”

He snorted. “Not that I doubt your competence, but wouldn’t it be a huge conflict of interest if my boyfriend were my therapist?”

He had a point. There was no way he could be impartial. Yet their connection in the illusion had to mean something. “Perhaps you’re right. I’m not certain who else here you would feel comfortable talking to, though.”

“...I guess you’re right.”

“You can’t let these feelings fester. They’ll worsen.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re hurting too.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Ienzo.” His gaze was sharp as a knife. “Let me help you too.”

“You have none of the training.”

“I can listen,” he said.

Ienzo felt the lump in his throat tighten.

“I know you have a lot to say. Tell me the story.”

“Will you tell me yours?”

He nodded.

“It’s a deal.”

Demyx picked up Ienzo’s hand and kissed it. There was life still under there, buried deep. They just had to find it.

#beyond this existence: counterpoint #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #demyx/ienzo #beyond this existence

6 notes · View notes

webcricket · 6 years ago

Text

Looking Glass

Chapter 2 - Welcome to Bunkerland

Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader

Word Count: 1643

Summary: A summer hiatus series. The reader is a refugee from the apocalypse AU where angels pursue humans with righteous wrath under the rule of the archangel Michael. Against all odds, the reader awakens in a world where the apocalypse never happened and not everyone is who they seem to be. Does her heart truly long to save her world, or does it belong now to the last person she ever expected to give it to?

Miss a chapter? Have a Masterlist Link!

Humming contentment, inhabiting the sluggish middle-ground between sleep and sentience, you loll to one side of the bed. Knees curling to your chest, you nuzzle your chin deeper into the pillow and slide a hand beneath the cushion to cuddle it closer. The cotton fabric is cool and crisp to the touch. The clean floral hint of the dryer sheet with which it tumbled – and recently, judging by the fresh fragrance – tickles your nose. Poised at the brim of awareness, consciousness gently cascading over your somnolent senses, untroubled comfort blankets you for another blissful moment before wakeful alarm courses through your languid frame.

Fighting the reflex to flail off the sheets and flee, balling the pillow in your fists, you force yourself to freeze and formulate a plan. You still the dissenting shudder of your body as your heart sprints and adrenaline floods your veins and urges you contrariwise – every double beat a deafening drum to rise and run in your ears. You drink in a deep calming breath through your nose, reciting the mantra to stop and think over the wail of your pulse. Reaching into your memory to try to figure out what happened, you contort bodily and choke back a scream. Thinking hurts.

Mind a dense haze of smoke, brain a smoldering black coal that flares in a painful fiery burst when you try to recall any detail of the who, what, where, when, why, or how of being here, you default, instead, to basic survival instinct. You have an indistinct sense that wherever this place is, it’s very unlike the last place. You feel that you’re safe; some piece of you, however – a bit of coding programmed into your DNA – knows it’s not safe to trust safe anymore because nowhere is really safe from . . . You gasp at the galvanizing flash of lighting striking down the attempt at thought. Not thinking is hard.

Enough. Your eyelids separate into the slimmest of slits necessary to admit light in order to inventory the immediate surroundings: Bedside lamp, bulb illuminated and radiating a warm glow. Digital red numbers on an alarm clock indicating a time of 5:37PM. Glass of perfectly clear water, three-quarters full. Sheet of paper, thick enough to stand on the folded edge, a message scribbled across in bold black ink.

You clamp your lashes shut and take a slow and measured inhalation. Holding the air in your lungs until they begin to burn, you listen. You perceive only the rapid tinny race of your bounding heart. Identifying no imminent peril, you pop open both eyes and blow out the hot torrent of checked breath, panting afterward in relief. Swinging your legs over the side of the mattress, attention sweeping the bare walls, single wooden door, and beige-brown color palette of the windowless utilitarian room, your focus settles once more on the piece of paper on the nightstand.

You pluck it up to examine the note evidently intended for you as there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here. It reads: Back soon – make yourself at home. It’s a concise welcome, but does nothing whatsoever to clear up the confusion of where you are or how you came to be here. Your temples throb as you tread dangerously near a rising recollection. Rubbing at the ache, you notice ink bleeding through from the other side and flip the sheet: Stay put – don’t break anything. The handwriting is as different as the vaguely threatening sentiment and equally meaningless to you.

Tossing aside the paper, you hop to the floor. You suck in a quick shot of air to shallowly expand your ribcage and peer down at the external state of matters stretching from your neck to toes. It isn’t the oversized fleece-lined sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, extending well beyond your fingertips and shrouding you to your thighs that shocks you. Nor is it the wide-legged plaid pajama pants rolled up to your ankles that come as a surprise.

You tentatively shift your weight from one leg to the other and jump again. Your bare feet land with a quiet and painless thud on the tile. The pleased smile – small as it is – has no time to brush its subtle curve onto your mouth before a cinch of blazing embers ensnares your skull. Knees buckling, you sink shrieking to the floor as you realize your left leg isn’t the shattered limb you remember. You badly broke the leg when you lost your footing on a rugged mountain pass leading to a camp in Dayton, Ohio and the rumored promise of safety there. Safety. Through the crippling agony, specifics of the incident of failing to outrun a band of angels and your subsequent capture return to you.

When you recover your faculties, tears puddle on the porcelain where your forehead presses to the cold tile. Tongue swiping your lips, you taste the salt streaking your cheeks. Rocking onto your heels, you clasp your fingers around your wrists in turn and run the pads of them over the smooth skin. Like your fractured limb they, too, are unmarked by the tight binds that secured you to the chair in the cabin where . . . You flatten your palms to the floor in front of you to keep from crumpling at the emergent memory of him.

Castiel – the other angels called him Castiel, a seraphim sadist, strangely sentimental. He’s the one who set your brain ablaze. He wanted information about where the refugees were gathering and why. And he especially wanted to know the whereabouts of someone named Jack. He lit brush fires in your mind as if to smoke the information out. You don’t know jack, about any Jack, but you were willing to die before divulging anything to that divine douchebag.

You dare to think, perhaps, you are dead. Sitting upright, you glance around the room with that viewpoint. Imagining yourself in Heaven instills no solace. Heaven is chock full of angels and you’d rather be in Hell. You’ve heard it’s pretty decent digs since the apocalypse went down and all the demons went topside. You don’t expect anyone in power much cares where human souls end up nowadays.

From this vantage point, headache abating, you spot a square of pink in the center of the door you missed before. Standing up, you cross the room and squint at the writing: Kitchen is to the right if you want something to eat. It’s the same friendly scroll as the note bidding you to make yourself at home. Your stomach rumbles with enthusiasm. There’s a second square tucked below the first with a warning: Don’t drink all the beer.

“Seriously?” you snicker aloud. “Somebody’s in a bitchy mood.” You imagine it was quite the row these chuckleheads with warring memos had before they deigned to leave you here alone, wherever the heck here actually is.

Turning the doorknob, you step into the hall to make your way to the kitchen. Your eyes dart to each steady bulb of light illuminating the way. You find it curious there is no loud whirring roar of a generator providing the electricity. Until now, you believed electricity of this sort, available at the whim of a finger flicking a switch, was an extinct species – mere magical fodder for children’s bedtime stories.

You pause before a gaping door and peer into what must be the kitchen based on the stainless steel storage stretching along the walls. This room, you note, like the one you awoke in, is also windowless and tidy in efficiency. Throat itchy with thirst and thinking of the untouched glass of water you left bedside, you swallow dryly and cross over to the sink. Purely for your own amusement, since it also doesn’t exist anymore in a convenient manner, you twist on the hot water tap and cup your hands beneath the spout. Steamy liquid warmth instantly flows over and fills your upturned palms. Snorting a laugh, you dip your head to the basin to splash your skin with the soothing spray.

It’s with your face ducked under the faucet, letting the warmth pour across your foolishly grinning features, fully submerged in this fantasy come to life, fingers clasped to the sink edge to keep from falling in, that you fail to hear the gravelly voice resounding on approach in the hall over the rush of the water.

“Sam! Dean? I’m back. I have good news and bad news. The good news is, I was able to enter Heaven and the other angels didn’t murder me as we anticipated they would. The bad news is, they didn’t murder me because there are only a handful of us left and-” Cas swallows the remainder of his report as he leans over the kitchen threshold to study the peculiar scene.

Although he healed your physical injuries after Dean dragged you through the rift, he hadn’t expected you to wake given the sustained suffering of your mind. Even an angel cannot always undo the work of angels. He’s glad to see he was wrong. Determining his silent stare could be considered rude, he clears his throat, steps into the room, and announces his presence. “Hello?”

Through the blear of water wetting your lashes, you see a figure – a man, judging from the broadness of his shoulders – drifting toward you from the doorway. “Sorry, I-” You recoil from the sink, apologizing out of awkwardness. Slick fingers scrambling to turn off the faucet, you simultaneously grope along the counter for something to wipe your eyes.

“Here.” The raspy word is followed by a cloth laid against your arm.

“Thanks.” You dab the cotton to your face. “I-” When you look up from the towel, the man’s eyes lock on yours, both of them blue. The hue – an unmistakable shade seared into your memory – instills you with horror.

Next: Ch. 3 - The Quote Unquote Situation

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel series #castiel x y/n #castiel reader insert #spn x reader #spn reader insert #castielxreader #castielxyou #reader x castiel #you x castiel #cas x reader #cas x you #castiel fanfiction #spn fanfiction #castiel angst #castiel fluff #cricket writes cas

145 notes · View notes

thehuggamugcafe · 6 years ago

Text

30 Disturbing Two Sentence Horror Stories.

OOC: This is... What is this? Honestly, I have no freaking idea what this is.

All I know is that a lot of caffeine inspired this little musing, so I figured, why not! It’s October, after all. Got to get in the spirit of Halloween, right?

So, my dear customers, sit back, relax with your favourite hot beverage, and let this weird-ass Mun chill you this evening. Please enjoy. ☕

“The man underneath me keeps yelling... But I’m not letting him out.”

“My family’s in the business of making spades. It’s a different story when you’re burying your own family.”

“My grandfather’s funeral was last week. He always was a screamer.”

“Mom always told me that it’s a long drop to the ground... She wasn’t wrong.”

“I always wondered what being a ghost would be like. Now I know; it’s pretty boring.”

“They say that home is where the heart is. So why did my husband take my heart out, and put it under the floorboards of our room in my jewelry box?”

“Dad keeps telling me to stop leaving milk out for the cat. He told me she’s in a better place, but I saw her in the kitchen last night.”

“There’s nothing more soothing than the laughter of a child. Unless you’re single, it’s 2 a.m., and you live alone.”

“Visiting your sister’s grave is tough. Visiting your own grave is Hell.”

“My psychologist tells me that there’s no such thing as ‘people in the mirror’. I wish he could see my reflection smiling back at me every morning, and every night.”

“I grew up with dogs and cats, so I got used to the sound of nails scratching at my bedroom door at night. Since I live alone now, it’s a chilling sound.”

“My girlfriend told me that my late-night horror movie marathon kept her up last night. I wasn’t downstairs.”

“Through my years of living in a two-storey house, I realized something. I closed more doors than I opened.”

“My 9-year-old son keeps me up at night with his crying. I visited his grave this morning to ask him to stop, but it hasn’t helped.”

“I heard an old wives’ tale that if your voice stops echoing, you should run. I didn’t run.”

“Everybody knows that there’s no such thing as monsters under your bed; there’s no boogeyman in the closet, either. I wish somebody had told me that your inner demons can come to life.”

“Today, I found a picture of me sleeping in bed on my phone. I live alone.”

“My parents insisted that the urban legend of people being buried in walls was just that: an urban legend. Last week, construction workers found the house’s former owner in our living room wall.”

“My uncle’s hobby is making dolls, and I love how he can bring them to life. How do I tell him that their eyes always follow me?”

“It’s 3 a.m., and my cellphone’s ringing. I think I’ll answer it.”

“It’s our two-year anniversary, and I plan to surprise my husband. It wasn’t easy pulling myself up from under the flowerbed, after all.”

“The first successful cryogenic freezing was held last month. Too bad the candidate couldn’t tell the scientists that she was still conscious.”

“Cover up every mirror in your house. The people on the other side are always watching you.”

“Today, I woke up to my answering machine turning itself on. I’m sure I heard my brother calling for help on the last message.”

“My best friend keeps messaging me on Facebook. She died last week.”

“Dad said that I should stop asking about Mom, asking him if she’s dead. Why can’t he see she’s behind him?”

“Paintings are alive. I saw my great-uncle’s self-portrait smile at me yesterday.”

“I felt cold breath on my neck as I stepped into my house. There was nobody behind me when I looked.”

“People say that the ghost of a little girl likes it when visitors to the library read bedtime stories to her, and I believe them. I read to her an hour ago.”

“The hotel guests say they can hear children giggling and running down the halls late at night. We have a strict no-children policy.”

#October night fright #two sentence horror stories #Halloween short horror stories #thehuggamugcafe's short horror stories

11 notes · View notes

shintaroux · 7 years ago

Text

YOU CAN HAVE THE MIDDLE FROM MY BONE

Akashi took him away when he was only one year old and named him Midorima, because his small, round eyes were as green as meadows used to be before they got torn down for the sake of a concrete wasteland. When Akashi saw him carelessly resting in the baby carriage on the street, Midorima didn’t shy away from his stern voice or his harsh stare but embraced them with a curious glint to his eyes. Akashi was never surer of finding the one.

Midorima started devouring books as soon as Akashi taught him how to read, and Akashi’s library was vast and smelled of history and decay, decay and history. It was cosy, thick-walled, lined with fine, ancient furniture and Midorima meandered among the labyrinth of its shelves with grace and prowess that could’ve saved Icarus from his tragic destiny.

The first time Midorima didn’t want Akashi to read for him, Akashi wondered if this was where their paths would diverge. Midorima was six and a half and he put away the book Akashi’s planned to read to him. If Akashi’s heart was still functional, it would certainly be pounding against his chest in a violent surge of emotions as he watched Midorima disappear between the shelves.

When Midorima came back, he was holding a different book in his hands, the one he chose himself. He walked to the couch on which Akashi sat and gracefully climbed onto his lap.

“I will read for you, this time,” he said in a small but assured voice.

Akashi leaned back and listened to the story he has already heard countless times before.

III

“Are you a vampire?”

Midorima was nine and he was waiting for Akashi to correct his test. So far, all his answers were correct. It was, in fact, way past Midorima’s bedtime but Akashi allowed for deviance this once as their study session wasn’t as intense as usual.

Akashi didn’t lift his gaze from the test he was grading as he answered: “And what if I was?”

A brief moment of silence was followed by a pair of small, shaky hands placing themselves on the surface of the table: “Can you make me one too?”

The tip of the pen Akashi was holding tore into the paper.

“Go to sleep, Shintarou. You shall not mention this matter again.”

Midorima was only fifteen but he has already outgrown the lithe frame Akashi that stopped developing decades ago, both in height and weight.

“You’ve grown taller again,” Akashi said as he fixed Midorima’s tie. Usually, Midorima was prim and proper in everything he did, just as Akashi’s taught him, but tying a tie seemed to cause him great distress. Akashi found it oddly endearing.

“Soon, you won’t be able to do this for me,” Midorima said and fixed his glasses. His hair was longer now and it did for his face what a frame did for its picture – made it more prominent and… beautiful – and his bottomless green eyes held silence Akashi could no longer understand if it wasn’t accompanied by words.

Akashi brought his heels back to the ground.

“Unless you stand on a chair,” Midorima added as a shadow of a smile touched his lips.

With a practiced simper, Akashi grabbed Midorima’s tie and yanked it downwards. He took pleasure in watching Midorima’s eyes widen in both fear and anticipation.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Shintarou. I can always pull you down.”

Akashi rose with the sunset and lied down with the first crack of dawn so when Midorima entered high school, they barely saw each other anymore.

Midorima attended classes during the day and slept or studied during the night; that’s how it should be, that’s how Midorima was supposed to grow. Akashi has cultivated him until now; he gave him nourishment when he couldn’t provide it for himself, and now it was Midorima’s turn to pave his own way until he reached the destination, the purpose Akashi had for him.

But each day he awoke to the sound of Midorima closing the doors to his room, he had yet another reason to curse his immortal existence. He quietly strolled to Midorima’s room and peeked into it to find Midorima studying at the table. Akashi saw the shadow Midorima’s long eyelashes cast on the bags under his eyes and he knew he shouldn’t disturb him.

When the morning neared, Akashi was already laying in his bed with darkness surrounding him in a thick veil. That’s when the door of his room opened with a shy crack. A small echo of tiptoes neared his bed and then his bed moved under the weight of this very intruder as he slid under the covers, as close to Akashi as he presumed was allowed.

“What is the meaning of this, Shintarou?”

“I’m tired.”

“You have your own bed.”

“I’m tired of being alone.”

Akashi pondered for a moment. “You may stay, then.”

On the night of Midorima’s prom, he walked into Akashi’s room with his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He stood before Akashi, who made no effort to move as he observed the fine man Midorima’s grown into, the honour student, the captain of the basketball team, and then he kneeled.

Wordless, Akashi grasped the tie and folded it neatly and tightly. Such a simple task, yet Midorima still couldn’t do it.

Or he pretended he couldn’t.

Akashi smiled at himself for entertaining that thought. He had picked up a wine glass of scarlet liquid and brought it to his lips when he noticed Midorima’s eyes following his every move.

“Is something the matter, Shintarou?”

Midorima didn’t bat an eyelash. Akashi noticed the quiver of his lip – a sign that he was brainstorming through possible replies.

“I’m of age now, you could turn me.”

“I told you to leave that matter be,” Akashi replied curtly.

“Why? Together, we could—“

“That is not the purpose I have in mind for you,” Akashi cut him off. Midorima pressed his lips together, his brows knitted tightly together.

“Purpose? Am I just a tool to you? After everything, you only plan to use me and then dispose of me?”

“I would never dispose of you.”

“Then why can’t you tell me what it is you want from me? I never complained once even after I realized that I’m not yours. I’ve let you teach me, make me just the way you wanted me to be without asking questions because I thought you wanted someone, me, by your side. Forever,” Midorima paused and, even during the longest rant Midorima’s ever made, his pristine composure never slipped. “I would do anything for you, if you asked.”

Akashi took a sip from the glass, swallowed the thick liquid and smiled as he said: “That’s exactly why you’re the one.”

VII

To Midorima, it must’ve been a long struggle but to Akashi it was over in a blink of an eye; and there he was, standing before a twenty-five year old Midorima who had a college degree and an internship, connections in the right place and a promising future. He had all those things Akashi had always wanted to, not just obtain and hold onto because he had no other choice, appreciate because they weren’t eternal.

Midorima wore a black suit, custom-tailored, whose fabric clung to his sinewy, powerful frame; he looked like a man who could stir the world and then leave it to churn once he’s had enough of it.

Akashi couldn’t.

“You look beautiful,” Akashi said as he watched Midorima descent from the marble staircase of their home. Midorima needlessly adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit if he had any.

“Thank you.” When Midorima reached the bottom of the stairs, he pulled out a ring of silver colour with a crown of blue forget-me-nots embroiled on its surface. He put out his hand for Akashi to take and Akashi knew there were only two ways this could go, but he opted for one he normally wouldn’t have.

He put his hand in Midorima’s. “You shouldn’t have,” he said as he carefully studied the way the ring slid on his finger.

“I wanted to. Happy birthday, Akashi.”

Akashi smiled a genuine smile that touched his eyes, the kind of smile he thought his face had forgotten to imitate. He took a step back, spread his fingers and looked at the ring.

In that very moment, he realized that Midorima really didn’t know a thing.

VIII

“Come,” Akashi said with his arms spread as if he was welcoming an embrace, “I want you to think of me as you would an enemy.”

Midorima clutched the item in his hand – a stake – and met Akashi’s unrelenting gaze. That very gaze spoke volumes of what was about to transpire and Akashi didn’t want to Midorima to look away.

“Why?” Midorima whined. He never whined, but he’d never been told to kill someone either; especially not the person who had raised him.

“Everything was for this moment. When I first saw you in your carriage, alone, outside, I thought I’d scare you a little, children dislike me after all, but you weren’t afraid at all. And then I knew. I knew I could make you into someone who could put me out of my misery.”

Midorima all but snarled. “Misery? What misery? You have it all!”

“I never asked for it.”

Akashi noticed that the hand clutching the stake was starting to turn blue.

“Midorima,” he said, in his soothing voice, the same voice he used to read stories to him, “right here.” He pointed to his chest and smiled once again. But this smile was old, tired, and he felt it leave hollows on his face that burned.

Midorima shook his head so violently that his glasses slipped halfway down his nose. He didn’t bother fixing them. “You’ll make me do this even though you know how I feel about you?”

Akashi took a few steps forward, Midorima’s shoulder slouched. He stopped in front of the taller boy, no, a man and gently placed his hand on top of the one holding the stake.

“That’s exactly why I’m asking you. I wouldn’t be able to go by the hand of somebody I didn’t love.”

Akashi heard Midorima’s voice get stuck in his throat. His hair fell over his beautiful, so-very-green eyes as he leaned towards Akashi. Akashi took this moment of human weakness to lead Midorima’s hand towards his chest. Midorima didn’t protest. He kept lowering his head, lower, lower, just a bit more and then—

Cold and warm lips, soft flesh and hard stake met at the same time. The air around them ceased to flow, time might as well have stopped. Akashi’s lips danced with Midorima’s until his body sagged, his limbs growing heavier by the moment.

If it weren’t for the piercing pain of the stake in his chest, dying would’ve felt like having your life spill from your lips into somebody else’s mouth.

Akashi wondered why he ever thought he wanted to leave as Midorima’s enemy.

How foolish.

Midorima played with the ring around his finger. It was an old ring; a ring of silver colour with a crown of blue forget-me-nots embroiled on its surface. That ring has been nervously twirled around his finger for way too long. That ring burned his skin, but he wore it every day.

Like a reminder. Like a scar.

He still didn’t understand.

Years have passed but they haven’t given him wisdom. Money, success, friends – yes, but those were a distraction, not a cure.

In the morning he’d wake up from a nostalgic dream that smelled of red hair and old books.

In the noon he’d forget to eat.

In the afternoon, he’d fall asleep on the bed that didn’t smell like him anymore.

In the evening, he’d read a book he knew by heart until he fell asleep.

Rinse and repeat.

And, sometimes, he’d look in the mirror and remember he was called beautiful in a suit.

He stopped wearing a tie.

#midoaka #knb

9 notes · View notes

moonraccoon-exe · 7 years ago

Note

Smol child Gladiolus

Oh yes, smol child Gladiolus.

Baby Gladio dressed in a garula onesie.

When he’s in it he baby growls at everyone he sees and ends up giggling because he feels so scary.

Look at him. So scary. Don’t mess with him.

Almost 2 y.o. Gladio has mastered Running.

Somebody please catch that child.

Almost 2 y.o. Gladio escaping from his parents’ grasp and running across all the Citadel at least twice. ALL. The Citadel.

Cor’s running behind him.

“Does this child never tire!?”

He does. But his will is stronger than you can expect.

2 y.o. Gladio stopping for a breath unless somebody’s near.

2 y.o. Gladio’s a rocket.

You won’t catch him, sorry.

2 y.o. Gladio’s in the Council room meeting.

2 y.o. Gladio’s pulling at Dad’s cape and sleeve.

“Papa…papa…papa…”

The king will stop the meeting to give Clarus a chance to see what’s wrong.

“I wanna pee, papa- oh…no…wait…I don’t wanna pee anymore, papa. :’(”

2 y.o. Gladio screams No when Papa Clarus has to leave for work.

2 y.o. Gladio hugs Clarus’ leg and clings to it.

Clarus walks all the way to his car with 2 y.o. Gladio hugged to his leg.

He weights nothing, the little ass.

2 y.o. Gladio’s usually left home.

3 y.o. Gladio isn’t.

3 y.o. Gladio figured ways of sneaking into Papa’s car when he’s not watching.

3 y.o. Gladio inevitably back in Citadel, running.

3 y.o. Gladio watching the Crownsguard train.

3 y.o. Gladio is personally amazed by Cor.

“ThEY SAY- THEY SAY- THEY SAY THAT YOU KILLED A VENNU BIRD ON YOUR OWN USING A STRAW AND THAT YOU ATE ITS HEAD WITH ONLY ONE BITE, IS THAT TRUE!?”

“…no”

“IT IS TRUE, YOU’RE LYING.”

You shouldn’t have taught smol child Gladiolus to talk.

4 y.o. Gladio’s favorite phrases:

“Are we there yet papa?”

“NOOOOO! ;_____;”

“CAN WE GO THERE”

“I’m bored”

Putting smol kid Gladio to sleep.

“I need no nap! Naps are for kids! I am not a kid, I’m 4, I’m a grown up and I have a sword and I have a shield and I have a hundred feet tall behemoth by pet and I-”

4 y.o. Gladio sleeps either way.

Smol child Gladio loves naps.

Even adult Gladio loves naps but no time for adult Gladio here.

Smol child Gladio’s very social.

Smol child Gladio tries to befriend everyone.

4 y.o. Gladio suggested 3 y.o. Iggy to adopt a stick so that his pet rock Lord Petram Lapis Ishi Iwa the First wouldn’t be lonely.

5 y.o. Gladio’s favorite phrase

“WATCH ME WATCH ME”

5 y.o. Gladio asked Cor to teach him “stuff and things and that other thing you do like *motion* SNAP ZAH BOOM I wanna be like you and dad!”

5 y.o. Gladio’s taught the basics of the basics by Cor.

5 y.o. Gladio cartwheeling. WATCH HIM.

5 y.o. Gladio learning to backflip. WATCH HIM.

5 y.o. Gladio with a wooden sword. WATCH HIM, SWEET ASTRALS, WATCH HIM.

Smol kid Gladio hates homework.

Smol kid Gladio doesn’t want dad to leave home.

Unless he goes too.

When he can’t go and stays home, he knows when Papa’s coming back.

3 y.o. Gladio sits at the door half an hour before Clarus’ supposed to arrive.

3 y.o. Gladio will just stare at the door, the clock, door, clock, door.

3 y.o. Gladio will yell out “NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” when it’s ONE minute past Clarus’ usual hour of arrival.

3 y.o. Gladio won’t shut up until Clarus opens the damn door.

Also

“NO! >:’(”

No what? Nobody knows. Just…no.

“NOOOOOOOO! >:’(”

Smol kid Gladio’s stealing your food.

4 y.o. Gladio’s staring at you waiting so you get distracted so he can sneak a hand up to your dish and steal your food.

“Does this child not eat at home?”

Smol kid Gladio eats in excess.

How is this child not growing fat, he eats like an adult, omg.

Smol kid Gladio doesn’t know how to win argues with grown ups.

So he just repeats what they said.

Smol kid Gladio doesn’t make weird faces or distortions the voice to mimic you funnily.

He’s literally just saying what you just said, normal voice.

Also staring at you like ._.

4 y.o. Gladio starts going to classes.

4 y.o. Gladio always has cookies in all the pockets of his uniform.

Also fills the pockets of his backpack with more cookies.

4 y.o. Gladio reaches to befriend other kids and gifts them a cookie.

Smol kid Gladio’s always cleaning his nose with his sleeves.

Smol kid Gladio’s scared of thunders and lightning.

Smol kid Gladio wants bedtime story ALWAYS.

“Gladio, I’ve already read you this one-”

“AGAIN”

“But we’ve read it 10 times alrea-”

“DADDY PLEASE :3″

Smol kid Gladio sneaking into the Citadel’s library.

“They have no children books here, papa :’(”

Smol kid Gladio’s sanctuary is the school’s library.

SO MANY BOOKS.

SO MANY COLORS.

ADSKFGKADJ THIS IS A NOVEL FOR GROWN KIDS, I AM SO SUPERIOR. I AM SUCH A SMARTY GROWN UP.

Smol kid Gladio’s hitting the table with the fists to a certain rhythm like it’s an ancient ritual cause IT’S EATING TIME, HE’S SO EXCITED.

Smol kid Gladio’s licking everything.

6 y.o. Gladio smacked a kid in the face because kid was being mean to smaller kid.

6 y.o. Gladio turns into smaller kids’ protector.

6 y.o. Gladio also smacked 7 y.o. that was picking on 5 y.o. Iggy.

“You don’t punch him just because he’s so smart and annoying. He IS smart and annoying but I don’t punch him just for that, he’s a good kid >:(”

6 y.o. Gladio’s jumping into every puddle he sees.

6 y.o. Gladio’s running from nannies when they try to get him clean.

6 y.o. Gladio’s running and screaming NNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOO when nannies want to bathe him.

6 y.o. Gladio’s also running from them when they want to comb his hair.

Smol kid Gladio’s pulling at the collar, sleeves, edges, buttons and every other inch of the suits he has to wear to his father’s formal events.

6 y.o. Gladio once used his tie to smack another kid in the face because he was saying a mean comment about 3 y.o. prince Noctis.

“PAPA THAT’S TREAS- THAT’S TRE- TRA- THAT’S TRE…TREASON, PAPA, HE SAID THE PRINCE IS UGLY, THAT’S TRE- TRAI- TREASON, PAPA, YOU HAVE TO JAIL HIM, THE PRINCE IS SO PRETTY HOW COULD HE SAY HE’S UGLY!? >:’C”

6 y.o. Gladio was personally upset and offended for like a month.

Smol kid Gladio’s going around Citadel pretending he’s Gladio the Super Immortal looking for innocent victims that require his aid.

He has his toy sword with him and takes very seriously his patrolling.

“*gasps* OH NO, they’re fighting, I will stop them!”

“Gladio, they’re training”

“NO, THEY’RE FIGHTING, I MUST STOP THEM.”

“*gasps* Oh no, an old man that needs my help! Don’t worry, old man, I will protect you, I’m your…whatisitcalled…your personal guard!”

The man was going to the bathroom. Also he’s just 50 and Council member.

“*gasps* Oh no, the smart kid’s crying! Don’t worry, smart kid, who hurt you? Was it a daemon? I have a sword, I can protect you, it won’t come back, are you okay do you want- have this cookie. It’s the last I have but you can have it, I have another one home so it’s okay, please don’t cry.”

“Papa nothing dangerous every happens at the Citadel, how am I supposed to protect the prince and everyone if nothing ever happens? :’(”

Clarus SO asked different Crownsguard trainees to pretend to be possesed by “the spirit of evil daemons” and “attack” him or attack each other when Gladio’s nearby.

Smol kid Gladio’s work and schedule is “so heavy, so much work lately.”

Smol kid Gladio the Super Immortal is defending people from other people’s attacks and makes sure not to kill the attacker because “Dad says ‘no kill unless necessary’ and you’re a Lucian citizen and I am the great heir of the Amicitia so I’m super strong and it’d be unfair if I attack you because you’re not as strong as I am and I don’t wanna hurt anyone :’(”

“Papa, I don’t wanna hurt anyone :’(”

Smol kid Gladio is protector of other children in his school and that never changes.

Smol kid Gladio’s ALWAYS trying to help and ALWAYS offering help around.

To everyone he sees.

Everyone.

Everywhere.

A L W A Y S.

3 y.o. Gladio patrolling around newborn Noctis’ crib.

3 y.o. Gladio attacks Noctis’ nannies if they get near.

Not on his watch, uh uh.

3 y.o. Gladio’s questioning both king and queen when they enter.

“HOW DO I KNOW YOU NOT A BAD PERSON DRESSED AS THE KING/QUEEN >:’(”

Regis and Aulea just laugh every time.

“Gladiolus, you’re not supposed to put the queen and king to question, you, rude kid!”

“It’s okay, don’t nag him. He’s going to be a fantastic shield, Clarus. :)”

The queen has passed.

Smol kid Gladio’s patrolling the door and not the crib.

“Why’re you outside now, Gladio?”

“I once read in a tale that ghosts and spirits appear to their loved people in privacy, so I don’t want to stop the queen from visiting prince Noctis. I think I’d like my mama to visit me if I lost her too, and I’d be very upset if there was somebody else stopping her from visiting, so I thought it was fine to patrol outside so I wouldn’t interrupt. I think she visits the prince very often, he never cries during naps. :) Maybe she’s humming for him like before, do you think she’s going to leave if I hear? Cor? Are you upset? Did I say something bad? Should I- I’ll go patrol inside if you want to…why are you crying, Cor? I’m sorry :’(”

Gladio thinks about it for a week…

But smol kid Gladio will offer his eternally favorite, dearest, most loved book to King Regis, with a bow on it.

“What is this, Gladio?”

“It’s my favorite book. It’s about a queen and a moogle and a purple chocobo, and there’s an evil wizard and behemoth fights and super amazing adventures. I have it since I was small” Regis smiles at that part “and it always makes me very very very happy.”

“Then you should keep it, Gladiolus. It’s your favorite. I’d feel bad accepting it.”

“And I’ll feel bad if I don’t give it to you, King Regis. You say it’s fine but I think you’re very sad. I would be if I lost my mommy. She was not your mommy, but you loved her, right? And I love my mommy, so it’s similar, so if I’d get sad I imagine you are sad right now, and I don’t want you to be because you’re the best person I know and you’re so important and you’re so awesome and you should be happy, so this is my strongest tool of happiness. You’ll like it, I swear. And don’t worry about the prince, I patrol outside instead of around the crib this time :)”

Regis doesn’t understand that last part and won’t ask for explanations.

He’s kinda broken and touched right now to care. :’(

Smol kid Gladio’s starting to patrol outside Regis’ door as well.

“Papa, the king must be so sad, and if he’s sad he can’t fight, right? So we should- PAPA WE SHOULD PROTECT HIM”

“I already do, son”

“YES BUT WHAT IF AN EVIL MONSTER TRIES TO ATTACK THE KING WHEN HE’S ASLEEP BECAUSE HE’S SAD”

Gladio’s on watch at Regis’ door at times.

Sometimes along Clarus. :)

Smol kid Gladio fights with all his might against sleep until he literally can’t stand on his feet.

Smol kid Gladio asleep carried away by a super proud Clarus.

8 y.o. Gladio watching the first generation of Glaives start their training.

8 y.o. Gladio swearing on top of his favorite book that he’s going to be the best Glaive and Shield one day.

8 y.o. Gladio sneaks into the Glaive’s garrison and tried on a uniform.

It fitted him past big. It’s ridiculous.

8 y.o. Gladio tried stealing the uniform.

The only thing that stopped him was his own honor.

“I’m a bad person, I shouldn’t steal :’(”

Cor’s gift to 9 y.o. Gladio was a Glaive uniform his size, just with no official symbol to it.

“You’ve got to earn it yourself, did you hear me?”

“YES SIR :3″

9 y.o. Gladio’s SUPER CONFIDENT and SUPER MOTIVATED to be the damn best and earn his real uniform at his time.

This is smol kid Gladio.

Here’s smol kid Noctis.Here’s smol kid Ignis.Here’s smol kid Prompto.

Both are adorable. Hug them. Protect them. Love them.

#kid gladio #smol child gladio

270 notes · View notes